She felt her face grow hot.
His hands slipped down her shoulders to her back, and pressed her against him. “Someday,” he murmured, kissing the tip of her ear. “Someday.”
“After the war.”
“I hope it won’t be that long.” He moved his lips along the line of her jaw toward her chin, then up to her mouth. “You’re all I’ll ever want, Velvet, and I want you so much.”
Only later, after she’d hung up her dress and gotten under the covers, did she let herself think of the long, passionate kiss they’d shared before Kent went back to his ride waiting at the curb. His hands on her back under her coat, his warm breath on her neck, his lips possessing hers as they never had before, stirred a longing in her for something she now recognized and understood.
Hugging the extra pillow to her breast, she let the longing fill her.
Kent, oh, Kent, how I wish you were here with me. I understand now about wanting…and I want you, too, so much…so much.
****
“I’ve got thirty days, as it turns out,” Kent said when he called from Brownwood the next night. “I’ll make sure Mother and Neil are okay, and maybe I can get back down there to see you before I ship out.”
“I hope so, Kent. Do you know where you’re going?”
“Europe. The bombers fly out of bases all over England.”
“I wish you didn’t have to go.”
“The sooner we go and get this thing over with, the better.”
“I’ll write to you every night.”
“And send me a picture? One in the blue velvet dress?”
“I’ll get one made as soon as I can.”
“I love you, Velvet, and when I come home, well, we’ll just pretend all the bad things never happened.”
She sat holding the phone long after he’d hung up.
Pretend all the bad things never happened. Mamma didn’t run off and end up with me. Daddy didn’t hit me. The man I love isn’t going to war and maybe get killed.
The blue velvet curtain filled her dreams that night. When she woke the next morning, she only remembered the silence beyond it.
****
Mrs. Clay had shown her where to look for her mail on the long foyer table. “You already know about the phone in the little closet under the stairs. You’ll have plenty of privacy.”
Celeste blushed, but when Kent called again on Saturday night, she welcomed the seclusion. “I think about you all the time,” he said.
“I think about you, too.”
“But not all the time.”
“Well, not at work.”
“I don’t have much to do here. Neil’s sort of taken over.”
“That’s good, isn’t it?”
“Oh, sure. Makes me feel good that he can do it.”
“How is your mother?”
“Not very happy about me shipping out.”
“Neither am I.”
“I’m going to try to hitch a ride up next weekend and meet you at the Canteen.”“Where will you stay?”
“With a friend’s aunt. She said anytime I wanted to bunk there, it was okay.” His voice dropped. “I want to hold you again, Velvet.”
She tried to stop the feelings threatening to take her over. “It’ll be safer at the Canteen,” she said.
“I don’t like that, but it’ll have to do. Have you had any trouble with Claudia?”
“Not since Mr. Thomas warned her not to bother me.”
“She doesn’t listen very well. I hope she’ll leave pretty soon.”
“I guess I do, too, but she’s not bothering me.”
“I wish I could kiss you right now. I’d start at your forehead and move down. Nibble your ears and your neck.”
Celeste felt her face grow hot.
“You’re so nice to kiss, Velvet.”
“Next weekend maybe, if you can get a ride.”
“At least we’ll have your room for some privacy.”
“That’s not a good idea, Kent. Besides, my landlady told me in no uncertain terms that she doesn’t allow men upstairs.”
“She didn’t tell me that.”
“Did you ask her?”
“No, just about calling.”
“We don’t need the chance to get carried away.”
“We could get married.”
“Married!”
“That way I’d know you’d be waiting for me.”
“You should know that now.”
He blew out his breath in a long sigh.
“I don’t want a hurried-up wedding, Kent. I want a real wedding someday. A honeymoon that lasts more than a weekend. A marriage that lasts more than a few days.”
“Isn’t a few days better than nothing at all? What if…”
“You’ll come back, Kent. I know you will.”
****
By noon the following Saturday, Celeste’s excitement at seeing Kent again had reached a fever pitch. Then she ran into Claudia in the corridor on her way out. “I thought you should see this,” Claudia said, pulling a framed picture from a paper bag.
Celeste shook her head. “I don’t think we should be talking.”
“Then don’t talk, but look. Look good.” Claudia thrust the photograph in front of Celeste’s face. A little boy, perhaps three or four years old and dressed in a sailor suit, smiled at the camera while clutching a model airplane. “This is my little boy, Jonny. Jonathan Kent Goddard, the Third.”
Celeste grabbed for the wall to keep from toppling over. Then she rushed for the door as bile rose in her throat.
****
I won’t go to the Canteen tonight. I’ll call Mrs. Lowe and tell her I’m sick again. No, I can’t do that. She’ll think… No, she wouldn’t think that. Or maybe she would. Oh, Kent, why did you do it? How could you have a child with that girl?
Celeste sank down on the bench at the bus stop and tried to stop her mind from racing as fast as her heart.
No, I know how. You were on your way to the same thing with me the night we went to the store lounge. You said you were a man, and I was still a little girl because I wouldn’t let you go any further. But you were wrong. You’re the little boy, thinking about what you want and not about what happens to the girl.
As the bus rolled to a stop, the doors opened with a soft swoosh. Celeste stepped on and deposited her fare before taking a seat near the front.
Did you have a special name for Claudia? Did you tell her the things you’ve said to me, that you liked kissing her, that you just wanted to hold her?
She leaned her head against the window.
You aren’t my prince after all. Coralee found hers, and I thought I’d found mine, but I was wrong. I was stupid to think that anybody who picked me up off the street and at a dance could be the right sort of man. I’m no better than Mamma, just lucky that I stopped in time before I ended up with a baby.
****
By five o’clock, Celeste knew she would go to the Canteen, though she wasn’t quite sure why.
Maybe Kent couldn’t get a ride, so he won’t be there. Even if he is, I don’t have to meet him at the corner afterward. I don’t have to talk to him and dance with him all evening. There are other soldiers who need company, and that’s why I’m there, isn’t it? To be nice to all the servicemen?
She took the last bus back to Main Street. A scared, sick feeling engulfed her when she saw Kent waiting at the Canteen door as she stepped off the bus. She stiffened as he threw his arms around her. He stepped back immediately. “What’s wrong, Velvet?”
“Why didn’t you tell me about Claudia and you? About your little boy?”
She thought he looked like someone had knocked him back a few feet.
“Oh, my God, she didn’t pull that, did she?”
“She showed me the picture of him. Jonathan Kent Goddard, the Third.” Celeste glanced around at the other girls arriving. “I’ve got to go inside.”
He caught her arm. “Not until we straighten this out.”
“Let go of me.”
He didn’t. “You believe her? You believe I fathered her child?”
“What am I supposed to believe?”
“I told you—she let everybody.”
“You’re not everybody.”
He dropped her arm. “You believe her and not me.”
“I know what happened the night we went to the store lounge. I know the way you’ve touched me and kissed me, the things you’ve said.”
“I told you I knew when to pull back, and it only happened once.”
“You went way too far with me.”
“I said I was sorry.”
“Sorry for what? That you’re a man, and I’m still a little girl?”
“I shouldn’t have said that.”
“You were right. You’re a man, and you do the things a man does, only I thought you were different.”
He looked at her for a long moment. “I thought you were different, too, Velvet.” Then he turned and walked away into the dusk.
Veda found her crying in the bathroom and managed to elicit the information that it was over between Celeste and Kent but not why. “He’s not the only fish in the sea,” she said with a heartiness that Celeste didn’t find comforting. “Wash your face and powder your nose, and go play on the beach.”
When Veda had gone, Celeste stared at herself in the mirror.
You really hurt him. Maybe he deserved it and maybe he didn’t, but it wasn’t up to you to be his judge and jury. Even if he’s not everything you wanted him to be, he’s not a bad person, either. He made a mistake. And you made a mistake, too. Now he’s gone, and so are you. Velvet’s gone forever.
Chapter Thirteen
Mrs. Clay didn’t comment on Celeste’s empty mail tray. Veda didn’t ask questions when they ran into each other at work. Claudia’s expression, like a cat replete with cream, made Celeste wonder if she knew what had happened between Kent and her.
The following Friday, Celeste paid out her Christmas layaway, managing to struggle onto the bus and finally up the stairs to her room with the huge box. Before she could open it, Mrs. Clay called her to the telephone.
“I’m sorry, Velvet.”
Celeste’s heart turned over at the sound of Kent’s voice. “I’m sorry, too.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m all right.”
“I’m not. That’s the other thing I called to tell you.”
“What’s wrong?”
“My mother knows someone… Well, she’s from a family that had pull in a lot of places. She’s still got it, and she used it. I’m not shipping out with my squadron. I’m coming back to San Angelo as an instructor.”
Relief washed over Celeste like a giant wave before she realized what his return would mean.
“I don’t mind telling you I’m pretty teed off about it.”
“Your mother just wanted to help.”
“No, it’s not like that. You wouldn’t understand.”
“Why?”
“She ran Dad’s life, and she wants to run mine, too.”
“Oh.”
“Anyway, I’m coming back after Christmas.”
Celeste tried to think of something to say and couldn’t.
“But I won’t bother you if you still feel the same. I won’t come to the Canteen or to church.”
“I shouldn’t have judged you.”
“The boy isn’t mine.”
“All right.”
“Do you believe me?”
“I want to.”
“I love you, Velvet.”
She wanted to say that she loved him, too, but the words stuck in her throat.
“Well, that’s it, I guess. I just wanted you to know I’m coming back.”
“Maybe you’ll like being an instructor.”
“I’d like being with my squadron better.”
“At least you’ll be safe.”
“Training accidents happen. I’d rather buy it from German flak than with a wet-behind-the-ears student pilot.”
A long, uncomfortable silence followed.
“When you get back,” Celeste began, then stopped.
“When I get back, what?”
“I don’t know, Kent. I’ll see you sometime at the Canteen…or at church.”
“You mean that?”
“Yes.”
“I love you.”
“I know.”
“Well, goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Kent.”
She let the phone fall back into the cradle.
If he comes back…when he comes back, it’ll be like it was before. I can’t do anything about it. I couldn’t make Daddy love me, and I can’t make myself not love Kent. If only I hadn’t seen that picture. Maybe it’s really true that what you don’t know doesn’t hurt you.
Upstairs she began to wrap Christmas gifts, but her heart wasn’t in preparations for the holiday.
Now Claudia will stay. I wonder if she has the little boy here with her? What does he do while she’s at work? Has she told the other girls at Woolworth? Do they all know that I’m going out with the man she says is the father of her child?
She laid down the scissors she’d just used to cut ribbon for Barbara’s gift, a pair of pink pajamas with satin trim around the boat neck, and matching fuzzy pink slippers, and perched on the end of the bed.
Why is everything such a mess? If I hadn’t gone back to look at that blue velvet dress after church…if I hadn’t gone to the dance at the Roof Garden…
She lay back against the two new pillows she’d found on sale in Hemphill-Wells’ bargain basement.
I don’t want Kent to go to war and get killed, but why couldn’t he have been sent to instruct anywhere but here?
****
Celeste hadn’t told Coralee about her fight with Kent, but she did tell her he was coming back to San Angelo.
“You don’t sound very excited about it.”
“He’s not happy that his mother pulled strings to keep him out of going overseas.”
“I guess not. Ben wants to enlist, and Big Ben told him to follow his conscience, that we’d get along all right.”
“Is he going to?”
“He knows I don’t want him to.”
“But you wouldn’t do or say anything to keep him from doing what he felt was right.”
“No. I told him I’d support whatever decision he made.”
“Good for you.”
“It wouldn’t be good for me if he got himself killed, but I love him too much to fight him on it. Pearl says I’m supposed to be his partner, not a millstone around his neck. She doesn’t want him to go either, but she’d never say so, not out loud. On a happier note, when will you be here for Christmas?”
“Mr. Thomas decided to close at noon on Christmas Eve this year, so I’ll get the early bus. And I don’t have to go in on Saturday morning.”
“It’ll be a nice long weekend for you.”
“I can’t wait, Sister.”
“You’re really doing all right?”
“Mrs. Clay is wonderful to me, and the other roomers are really friendly. Most of them have husbands at Goodfellow Field or Concho Field.”