I hated it. I was so embarrassed to have to wear it. But there were shortages because of the war.’ She smiled. ‘So you know what Tante Elfie did?’
‘What?’
‘She saw me standing in the hallway at the mirror and she brought me her shawl. Her white one. Made of crocheted cotton. I’ve told you about it, ja? Anyhow, she gave it to me to wear that night. I was very touched. You see, I thought she was still böse – angry – with me for wanting so badly to go out with Hans Klaus. But she said, “This is to make you feel beautiful, Mara, because now you are a woman.”’
Mama rose from the bed and came to stand behind me. She touched the soft material of the shawl on both my shoulders. ‘It meant very much to me, that she understood. I thought I would want it that way for you.’
I was watching her reflection in the mirror. She was smiling. Her hands remained on my shoulders. ‘This is a very good colour for you. When I saw it, I was thinking, this colour will make my Lesley very beautiful. This will make this boy know how lucky he is to take her dancing.’
‘Thank you, Mama. It’s really super. Thanks for thinking of me.’
For several moments she continued to stand there. The smile played itself out on her lips to be replaced with a more thoughtful expression. Still she studied my face in the mirror. Her head tipped to one side. ‘This boy, this Paul,’ she asked, ‘is he a virgin?’
‘Mama!’ In astonishment I whirled around to look her directly in the eye. She could do that to you, Mama could, just ask you those kinds of questions. ‘Mama, how on earth should I know that? I just met him. I hardly even know him. Cripes, Mama, what a thing to ask!’
She smiled pleasantly. Turning away from me, she went over and gently closed the door of my room. She leaned back against it. ‘I will tell you something about men,’ she said. ‘I want you to know how important it is to be very gentle with men who are virgins. You must be good to this boy.’
‘Mama, for Pete’s sake. I’m just going on a date with him. I’m not planning anything else.’
‘Men are very different from women.’ She tapped her chest. ‘In here, they are. You see, in here they’re different. Not as strong. Men hurt more when they love. They give themselves more. Women don’t. Women always keep a little piece of themselves back just for themselves. Women are more complicated in that way. But men, they aren’t. They just love. And you see, they get hurt.’
The shawl still around my shoulders, I walked back to the bed and sat down. Mama continued to lean against the door, hands in her pockets. She was still smiling slightly, her eyes going dreamy.
‘O’Malley, he was a virgin,’ she said. She called my father O’Malley. His first name was Cowan but I never heard my mother ever call him that. When I was young, I thought my father had only one name, rather like Ann-Margaret. ‘He was a boy still. You know. With a baby face.’ She grinned. ‘And me, I was no winner either. I was just over typhus, you see. I was skinny as a toothpick. My hair stuck out. It was only this long.’ She measured with her fingers. ‘But O’Malley, he thinks I’m beautiful. He was so afraid. Of me. Men, they have many fears. You must be very gentle with a man, because if you let him love you too much and then hurt him, he’ll never get over it. A woman will. But not a man. He’ll be afraid. He will never be able to love as well again, if you hurt him. It gives you power over him. You must remember that.’
‘Mama,’ I said, ‘I’m just going on a date with this guy.’
She nodded and pushed herself off the door. ‘Ja, ja, I know. But I am telling you this so you remember it. You must be aware of what you do. You bind a man to you in the way you love him. And if he’s a virgin, then he will always love you just a little bit, even after you are gone. So you must be good to this boy.’
‘Mama, it’s not just him. What about me?’
She chuckled and reached out to touch me. ‘I just want you to find a good boy to make you happy. I want you to have a boy to make you as happy as O’Malley’s made me.’
On Friday night Paul picked me up at the nursing home about 8.30. He had his mom’s car, a little red Ford that smelled of wet dogs. Paul knew it smelled. Even as I was first putting my foot into the car, he apologized and explained that they had two Labradors that rode around in the backseat when his mom was driving. Their names were Fortnum and Mason, which referred to a high-class store in London that I’d never heard of. I made a joke out of it, saying what a good thing it was that she didn’t name them after Barnum Hooker’s Drugs downtown, because I didn’t want Paul to feel too self-conscious about the stink. He thought my comment was hilarious and laughed. I was surprised how easy it was to talk to him. Normally, when I became uncomfortable around people, I tended to go dead silent, and that had been one of my major worries about the evening.
We were among the last couples to arrive at Claire’s party. The band was already playing, and most of the others were dancing. The small room was oppressive with the heat of moving bodies.
Throughout most of the evening Paul and I sat on folding chairs and drank Cokes. He said that he didn’t really like dancing particularly, and I told him that was OK because I didn’t either – which wasn’t precisely true, but I said it anyway. The music was so loud that it was impossible to carry on a conversation. So we just sat and drank. I watched Frog Newton playing his drums. He wasn’t as grotesque as Brianna had made him out to be. His hairstyle was rather unique, but aside from that, I thought he was good to look at. He had a nice body.
A little after eleven Paul suggested we go. The volume of the music was making my insides vibrate, and I was hoarse from shouting over it, so I agreed.
Coming outside was a shock. After all the noise and humid, sweaty heat, the January cold ripped my breath away. Shivering violently, I tried to zip up my jacket.
‘You want to go for a drive or something?’ Paul asked, as he unlocked the car door for me.
I glanced at my watch. I was supposed to be home by midnight, which Paul knew, and it was already 11.15. I showed him the time. ‘A short one, maybe.’
We drove down the street that led to the highway. Paul turned west and we sped out beyond the reaches of the town lights. It’s very flat in that part of Kansas. All Kansas is more or less flat, but out there in the western reaches, I reckon you could see the headlights of a car in Colorado, if you tried.
‘That’s not really my scene,’ Paul said as he drove. ‘That back there. Claire’s brother told me I had to go. It was all right, I guess, but it’s not for me. I hardly ever go to parties.’
I didn’t answer. I was wondering if Claire’s brother had also told him to invite me.
Leaning back on the headrest, I closed my eyes. Paul had turned the heater to its highest setting, and the car grew very warm. It also smelled incredibly of dog.
It was a nice feeling, speeding silently along the highway in the darkness. For a split second I let myself slip into dreams, imagining that this warm, shadowy quiet was my life to come, that Paul was my husband and we were off across the country, speeding to some secret destination in the west. It wasn’t that I wanted to be married to Paul or even that I wanted to be married at all. It
