Music in the Night (4 page)

"Yes, sir," Robert said.
I looked for Cary, but he hadn't come out of the dining room.
"Good night, Cary," I called. There was no response. I flashed a weak smile at Mommy, who nodded, her face full of light, her eyes brighter than ever, and then Robert and I stepped out into the night.
He opened the car door for me and I got in. He hurried around and got behind the wheel.
"Well, I guess I have the prettiest date at the dance tonight," he said and turned to me. "Laura, you look more beautiful than I ever dreamed."
"Thank you, Robert. You're very handsome yourself." "I guess we'll knock 'em dead then," he predicted and started the engine.
As we backed out, I looked toward the front door, half expecting to see Cary, but he wasn't anywhere to be seen.

2
I Could Have Danced
All Night
.
"Oh, Robert," I said the moment we walked

into the school gymnasium and saw how wonderfully the dance committee had decorated, "I wish Cary had come. He wouldn't be down on the dance if he saw what they've done to this place. It looks like a real ballroom!"

"I don't think that's really what kept him from coming, Laura," Robert said softly. He smiled sympathetically, his eyes soft and gentle. I nodded, knowing he was right.

There was a makeshift stage directly in front of us for the four-piece band. They were already playing, and the floor was crowded with dancers. Above us, ribbons of crepe paper crisscrossed around mounds of multicolored balloons with long tails of tinsel. At the far right, there were long tables with red, green, and blue paper tablecloths set up for the food, and to the left and down the sides of the gymnasium, there were tables with the same color paper tablecloths and chairs. A large poster on the left wall read:

Everyone was dressed up, some of the girls in dresses so formal and expensive-looking, I was sure Mommy would feel what she had made for me was inadequate, even though I thought my dress was just perfect. However, I was happy now that I had agreed to wear Mommy's necklace. Many of the girls wore earrings, necklaces, bracelets, and rings on most of their fingers. It looked like a contest to see who could be the most overdressed.

"Well," Robert said after we put my shawl on a chair and set my purse aside, "why don't we join the fun?"

He led me onto the dance floor and we began dancing. As we moved across the crowded floor, I felt as if everyone's eyes were on us. When I let my gaze shift from Robert's, I saw some of the girls in my class gathered in a small pack, watching us with twisted smiles on their faces. I felt a tightness in my stomach.

The music was loud and fast. I hoped I didn't look foolish, but Robert seemed pleased. He was a very good dancer and I started to imitate some of his movements with my arms and hips. As long as I concentrated on him, fixed my eyes on his, I felt secure and comfortable. He had such an air of confidence about him. There was enough for me to share.

When there was a pause between songs, we stopped, embraced each other, and laughed. He turned me toward the punch bowl, waving to some of the boys he knew and they waved back, giving Robert the thumbs-up sign to indicate they approved.

"We're going to have fun tonight," he promised, his eyes full of excitement. "We're going to dance until our feet beg for mercy."

"Are you kidding? If they have a dance contest, we're entering," he said.
"Robert Royce, we are not." Just the thought of such a thing took my breath away.
We drank some punch and ate some chips with cheese dip. Marsha Winslow and the class president, Adam Jackson, joined us. Marsha was in charge of the party. She was a tall, attractive girl who spoke with a slightly nasal tone, as if she were looking down her nose at the rest of the world. She carried a clipboard.
"Excuse me," she said, "but we don't have any record of your paying for your tickets."
"What? Of course you do. I gave the money to Betty Hargate," Robert said.
"Betty has you down, but not Laura," she replied.
"That's ridiculous."
"Are you calling Marsha ridiculous?" Adam asked. "You know, she doesn't get paid for doing all this work that makes it possible for everyone else to enjoy themselves. She's just doing her job."
"I'm not calling her ridiculous. I'm just saying . . . where is Betty? There she is." Robert pointed. "Let's call her over," he suggested.
"Good idea," Adam said, and he waved at Betty, who was standing with Lorraine Rudolph. The two hurried over.
"What's up?" Betty demanded impatiently, her hand on her hip. It was as if she had been asked to wallow with the undesirables.
"Robert Royce claims," Marsha said, rolling her eyes, "that he paid for Laura, too, but that's not indicated on the sheet I have."
"I gave you the money in the cafeteria last Tuesday," Robert insisted. "Remember?"
"Whatever is written on the paper is what I received," Betty said in a singsong, smug voice. "I don't have to steal party ticket money."
"I didn't say you stole it," Robert cried, growing increasingly frustrated.
"I only have one ticket marked of after your name," Marsha repeated. "That means you paid for only one ticket."
"I can't believe this," Robert said.
"Are you sure you just didn't
think
you paid for Laura? Maybe you weren't sure she was going with you last Tuesday," Lorraine quipped, a tight smile on her lips. She shifted her eyes to Adam and back to Robert.
"Of course, I'm sure. I paid," Robert
maintained. "All the money checks out," Marsha said.
"That means we don't have more money than tickets issued," Adam added.
"I know what it means," Robert said.
"Do you have the tickets, Robert?" I whispered. He thought a moment and then nodded with a confident smile, pulling them out of the inside of his sports jacket.
"If I didn't pay for them, how did I get them?" he asked Marsha, thrusting the tickets in front of her face.
She gazed at the tickets and then looked at her clipboard again.
"I don't understand," she said.
"Maybe Betty gave him two tickets and he promised to give her the money for the second one later," Adam suggested.
"Yes," Betty said quickly. "That's it."
"No, it's not and you know it," Robert insisted.
"Betty's too responsible to give out tickets and not collect the money for them," I suggested calmly. Everyone paused and gazed at me a moment. "Someone just made a simple mistake."
"Well . . ." Marsha glanced at Adam.
"I don't think Robert would steal a dance ticket, do you?" I followed.
"I hope not," Betty blurted.
"We'll straighten it out later," Marsha said. "Right now, we're all wasting time when we should be having fun."
"Exactly," Adam said, taking her arm. "To the dance floor, Madam Chairman."
The others laughed and then left with them.
"That was a pretty stupid bit of meanness," Robert said, easing after them.
"Maybe it was just an honest mistake, Robert."
He continued to glare in their direction, just daring one of them to look back at us.
"Somehow, I doubt it," he said. "Those kind don't make honest mistakes."
"Let's not let them ruin our night, Robert," I said, touching his hand. He relaxed, smiled at me, and nodded.
"Right. Shall we?" he asked, taking the punch glass from my hand and putting it on one of the tables.
We returned to the dance floor. It didn't take us long to get lost in the music and each other. We soon forgot about the ticket incident and danced until I declared my feet were really begging for mercy. Robert laughed and suggested it was time we had something to eat anyway.
"I guess we've worked up an appetite."
We got in line and filled our plates. Some of the girls in my English class complimented me on my dancing, and girls who had come together without dates gathered around Robert, commenting on his dancing ability too.
Theresa Patterson was there with some of her Brava friends. They kept to themselves, but Theresa gave me a bright, friendly smile when I waved.
As I looked over the endless plates of food I had to give the devils their due: Betty and Marsha had planned a wonderful party. There were steamed clams, of course, and all sorts of chicken dishes, including Southern fried, bowls of tricolor pasta, salads, plates of fruit, loaves of Portuguese bread, rolls, and a table of desserts that would surely be the first to be picked clean.
When we were satisfied we'd taken a bit of everything to sample, Robert and I sat with some of his friends and their dates. Everyone was so excited, they all talked at once. I really was having the time of my life, and when Robert leaned over to give me a small, quick kiss on the cheek, I blushed and told him how much fun I was having.
"I'm so glad," he said. "I was worried when Cary was so negative about the dance. I thought he might--"
"Might what?"
"Talk you out of coming," Robert confessed.
"He could never do that. We may be twins, but I still have a mind of my own, Robert."
"That's good," he said, smiling.
"You should know that by now, and if you don't, you will soon," I promised. Even I was surprised at how seductively it came out. His eyes widened with his smile. I turned away quickly, afraid I would become so crimson, everyone at the table would notice.
After we ate, the music got slower and the lights grew dim. I liked this kind of dancing more because I could rest my head against Robert's shoulder and feel his arms around me. We swayed to the rhythm, neither of us wanting to spoil the moment by talking. Occasionally, I felt his lips on my forehead and hair. My heart pounded so hard, I was sure he could feel it against his chest.
"I'm so glad you came to the dance with me, Laura," he whispered.
"Me too," I said.
"Maybe . . . we can leave a little earlier and just take a ride along the shore. It's a beautiful night," he said.
"I'd like that, Robert."
We moved through the shadows and light. I was dazzled by the glow of the round lanterns, and for a while, it was as if Robert and I were the only ones at the dance. Everyone else just faded away.
That is until I heard Janet Parker's sharp, cold laugh right behind us and turned to see her standing with Adam Jackson, Marsha, Betty, and Lorraine. Brad Laughton and Grant Simpson had joined them as well. Why weren't they dancing? I wondered. Did they come here just to watch and make fun of others? They kept looking our way and laughing.
"What's with them now?" Robert muttered.
"I don't care," I said, but he couldn't stop gazing at them, his eyes filling more and more with fury.
"It's got something to do with us," he said sharply and stopped dancing.
"Robert, forget about them."
"I'd like to know what's so damn funny," he said, taking my hand and crossing the dance floor toward them. They parted, expecting we would walk in between them, but Robert paused.
"Why don't you let us in on your little joke," he said sharply.
"Excuse me?" Adam said with his self-satisfied smirk. "You want to hear a little joke?"
They all laughed.
"What is it with you people?" Robert pursued. I tried to tug his hand, but he was determined to have his say. "Are you trying to ruin our good time? I feel sorry for you if that's all you have to keep you occupied."
"Are you kidding me?" Adam said, surprised that anyone would dare question his actions.
"Well?"
"We just wondered why Laura's brother didn't come to the dance. Couldn't he afford a ticket?" Lorraine asked.
"Robert could have bought him one the same way he bought Laura's," Adam suggested.
"That's not funny," Robert said, stepping toward him. Adam took a step back and held up his hands,
"Hey, take it easy. You wanted to hear a little joke, didn't you?"
"That's not
^-
a
^-
joke. You're a joke," Robert shot back.
"Whoa, buddy," Brad said. Robert's glare put him back a step, too. They all looked so shallow and cowardly to me, despite their expensive clothing and jewels.
"Come on, Robert," I said. "Let's not waste any more of our time on them."
"The reason we were wondering about your brother," Janet said, "is Grant just came in from having a cigarette and said he saw him loitering in the parking lot."
"What?"
"That's right. He's out there in the cold, dreaming of being in here with his sister," Brad blurted.
Robert's arm shot out so quickly, I didn't realize he had moved until I saw his hand bounce off Brad's chest, sending him back so awkwardly he lost his balance and landed hard on the gym floor. Some of the kids around him started to laugh. He turned red, but after scurrying back to his feet, he kept his distance.
"That was very rude," Betty exclaimed. "Maybe where you come from that happens all the time, but we aren't allowed to do that at our parties." Her eyes widened and she groaned. "Oh no! Mr. Rosner's coming across the floor already. He'll make us cut the party short if there's any wild or stupid stuff and I worked hard to make this a success!" she cried, her mouth twisted and distorted.
"What's going on here?" Mr. Rosner demanded, his hands on his hips. He looked from Brad to Robert and then at the others.
"Just a silly joke, Mr. Rosner," Adam said, smoothly cutting in front of him. "It's nothing. We're all cool."
Mr. Rosner studied everyone and although he wasn't satisfied, nodded.
"I don't want to see any roughhousing," he warned. "You won't," Adam said. "I guarantee it, sir. As class president, I'll take full responsibility."
"I'm sure you will, Mr. Jackson," Mr. Rosner said. When his eyes fixed on me, he calmed down. "You all look very nice," he said, "and up until now, this has been a very nice affair. I hope you'll continue to make us proud of you."
"Thank you, Mr. Rosner," Lorraine said sweetly. I saw the corner of his mouth twitch as he turned and started away.
"That was close," Adam said, glaring at Robert. "It wasn't his fault," I said.
"No, that's for sure," Betty said. "Actually, we all feel sorry for him."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Robert demanded. "Robert, come on," I pleaded, desperate to get Robert away before they could elaborate on their ugly rumors. "No, what's it supposed to mean?" he pursued.
"Why don't you go, out and ask her brother?" Janet quipped and they all started to smile.
"Shall we dance?" Adam asked Marsha, holding out his hand.
"Anything to get away from this incestuous atmosphere," she said and they all laughed as they broke up to go their separate ways and leave us standing alone.
"Spoiled, rich--"
"It's all right, Robert. Let's not pay attention to them." He nodded and then looked at me.
"Do you think Grant was telling the truth? Do you think Cary's hanging around out there?"
"I hope not," I said. "I'm sure he made it up just to hurt us."
Robert forced a smile.
"If you want to go for that ride now," he said finally, "it's fine with me. The air is getting stale in here."
"Yes, I would," I answered him in what I hoped was a cheery tone of voice.
His mood softened.
"Great. I want to be sure to get you home before twelve," he said. "I wouldn't want your father mad at me."
"Most of the time, Daddy's growl is worse than his bite," I said.
"I'm not worried about being bitten; I'm worried about being forbidden," Robert said, slipping his hand into mine, "forbidden to see you."
Our eyes met and I felt a warm glow travel from my stomach to my heart. Was it possible to want to be with anyone more than I wanted to be with Robert? I didn't think so. Surely, this was what love was, and it had happened to me so soon after we had set our eyes on each other, it must be true love. Did that mean it was written in the stars like it had been for Romeo and Juliet? That was fine, as long as we didn't have the same destiny, I thought.
We started out of the gymnasium, gazing back only once to see Betty and Adam looking our way and laughing. It filled me with dread because it was as if they knew something I didn't.
There were some students huddled in the shadows and smoking outside, but I didn't see Cary anywhere. I released the breath I had held in my lungs and walked quickly across the front of the school toward the parking lot. We got into Robert's car and glanced at each other, both of us feeling nervous and excited. Robert took a deep breath and started the car. Then he turned to me.
"You all right with this?" he asked softly.
"Yes, Robert." I slid over to be closer to him and he smiled.
We drove out of the parking lot slowly. I looked back once and thought I saw a shadow scurrying away from a car. In a moment, the shadow disappeared in the darkness and was lost.
"You see something?"
"No," I said, shaking my head and turning back.
We drove quietly for a while, following the road out to the Point.
"I know the artist who lives down that road," I said, when we passed a beach road. "His name's Kenneth Childs. He's Judge Childs's son?'
"I've heard of him," Robert said. "In fact, I think we have one of his paintings in the hotel. It was there when we bought the place."
"Most likely. He is one of our most famous artists. He's a nice man, but keeps to himself. Some people call him a hermit."
"I'd still like to meet him. I like his painting in the hotel," Robert said, putting his arm around my shoulders as he slowed the car.
"I took a few exploratory rides down this way recently," he said.
"Oh? And for what reason?" I teased.
"Just to see the countryside," he claimed with an impish little smile.
Moments later he turned down a narrow beach road and then switched off the headlights as he continued a few yards farther. Darkness closed in behind us and on both sides, but before us was the ocean, with the dazzling sea of stars above it and the moonwalk that went to the end of the world.
Many times before, Cary and I had sat in the darkness and looked up at the vastness of space with all the stars twinkling, but it never set my heart pounding as it did this night while I leaned against Robert's shoulder, feeling his breath on my hair and then on my forehead before his lips gently touched my ears, my cheeks, and my eyes. I turned to bring my lips to his and we shared a long, soft kiss.