Young Love in Old Chicago

  Chapter Eight

  I refused to come to dinner later when my mother called us all down to eat. But my father said I could either come to dinner or miss the dance. So I came down, for Emmaline.

  Katy seemed so unaffected, chattering away with my mother about what had happened at school that day, while I felt the burden of guilt and the fear of being caught, even though Katy had been the one to take the letter—hopefully, anyway.

  As I picked up my corn on the cob, I remembered that there was something I had to ask my father, no matter how I was feeling. “I need to ask you something about Hayden, Father,” I said as I set the corn back down on my plate.

  “All right.” I hated the way he looked at me with such disappointment.

  “Have you and his father been planning our marriage?”

  Katy dropped her overloaded spoon, splattering the table around her with mashed potatoes, and began coughing uncontrollably. “Are you all right, dear?” my mother asked, as she hurried over to her and began patting her back. Katy picked up her glass of water and took a few gulps, then went back into a fit of coughing.

  “I’m—I’m okay,” she said between coughs.

  My mother picked up her glass and tried to hand it back to her. “Drink some more water.”

  “I’m fine, Mother.” Katy took the glass and set it down in bits of mashed potatoes as she struggled to stop coughing.

  My mother went back to her seat, but continued to watch Katy apprehensively.

  “Not exactly,” my father began. “Of course we’ve talked about how nice it would be if you two ended up together. It’s something we’ve both hoped for since you were born. It would certainly be much better than you marrying…never mind.”

  “Why? Are you going to be dating Hayden now?” my mother asked expectantly.

  “No. He just said you and his father were planning our marriage,” I said, directing the conversation back to my father.

  He looked at me thoughtfully and nodded before he spoke. “I can see how he could think that. We have spoken about it in front of him a few times. But it’s just talk. I believe we both know that we have to wait and see how things go. We’ve made sure you two grew up very close, but we certainly can’t force something like that on you. It wouldn’t be right. What exactly did Hayden say?”

  “He said that you and his father had been discussing it for as long as he could remember and that it wouldn’t be long until we were married.”

  My father looked like he was trying not to laugh. “I bet that came as shock to you, didn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “And I take it you told him that you weren’t going to marry him.”

  “I did.”

  “Thank goodness,” Katy said.

  “Poor Hayden,” my mother said. “I wonder if they’re having the same conversation we’re having right now. Maybe I should call his mother after dinner.”

  “That might be a good idea,” my father said.

  I stayed silent for the rest of dinner and refused dessert to go to bed early. I really just wanted to be alone…to cry.

  My clock told me that it was eight thirty when I heard everyone coming up the stairs. Half an hour later, when everything was silent, I heard a quiet creak coming from my door. So I turned my lamp on to find Katy coming into my room. She shut the door slowly and came to sit beside me on my bed.

  “Did you get it?” I asked.

  “Of course.” She took her slippers off and pulled a piece of paper out of one. “I told you it would be easy.”

  “Thank you, Katy,” I said as I threw my arms around her.

  “It was kind of a waste, though. There’s nothing good in there. But I bet it saves you a lot of trouble.”

  “You read it?”

  “Yeah.” She held it out to me and I started to unfold it, but stopped, not wanting to read it with her in the room.

  Then a terrible thought occurred to me. “What happens when he realizes it’s gone? He’ll think I took it.”

  “Do you really believe I didn’t already think of that? I put a fake note in the coat I switched with it, and luckily I put it in the right pocket. I figured if I got it wrong he wouldn’t think much about it.”

  “You’re a genius, Katy.”

  “Thanks, but I know that.”

  “So what does the letter you wrote say?”

  “It says he thinks you’re really pretty and that he had fun with you when he took you skating—a lot of boring stuff that I don’t know why he would be writing and slipping into your pocket. But I’m sure Father will just read it and throw it away or decide it’s harmless and give it back to you.”

  “But what if Father already read this one? He’ll know you switched it.” I looked down at the letter in my hand.

  “Trust me, if he had read it, you would know. So you’re going to keep seeing Mason, right?”

  “I can’t. I’m not allowed to.”

  “Well Mason doesn’t care, and you shouldn’t either. Honestly, you two are nothing alike, and he’s a bit of a genius too, I’d say. He thought to write you that letter ahead of time.”

  “He doesn’t care? Did he say that?”

  “I’ll just leave you alone with your letter. Hopefully you’ll agree with everything it says, and I’ll still have my connection through you to the mob.”

  “Katy, he’s not in the mob.”

  She stood up and shrugged her shoulders. “Whatever you say.” It occurred to me, as she left my room, that maybe she was the one my parents should be worried about instead of me.

  Carefully, I unfolded the note and began to read.

  Dear Alexandra,

  I hope this isn’t the letter you find in your pocket. If it is, we’ve got a problem, but it’s nothing we can’t get through. I don’t mean any disrespect toward your parents, but I need you. I need to see your beautiful face, I need to look forward to seeing you, I need to know you’re mine. To me a father’s worry and demand not to see me anymore aren’t enough to justify losing these things.

  And I have a confession to make.

  I stopped for a second as I remembered the last confession Mason had made, …I felt drawn to you…It’s been hard to stay away from you ever since… and hoped for another confession like that one.

  I lay awake at night and think of you. Besides seeing you, it’s the best part of everyday. It can’t become the worst. I can’t lay awake hurting and wondering what you’ve been doing. For some people it takes months or years or even a lifetime to know who they want to be with, but for me it only took a day. So tomorrow after school, I’ll be at Swatches. Bring Emmaline and we can all do something together there.

  Try not to worry too much. The day will come when all this business with my father will be cleared up and things will get better. Please be there tomorrow. I’ll fall asleep tonight looking forward to seeing you, dreaming of your dark green eyes and the way your hair smells and feels against my cheek. This can’t be the end for us Alexandra.

  Love, Mason

  With my emotions already running so high, I began to cry, even though his words were so sweet. He put some of my own thoughts and feelings into words perfectly. I needed him, too. As I wiped the tears away, I realized that it had hurt to breathe since the night before up until that moment, when the raw aching in my chest finally began to subside.

  I closed my eyes and thought of his face—his gray eyes fixed on me—the light that filled them every time he saw me.

  Could I really go against what my father had vehemently forbidden me from doing? Could I risk my reputation and the trouble continuing to see Mason might cause? In my mind he closed his silver eyes and leaned forward, tilting his head before he kissed me, something I still craved. “Yes,” I whispered to myself. “He is absolutely worth it.” No matter what my father said, I knew Mason, and I trusted myself to make that decision.

  I opened my eyes and took all the notes Mason had given me out of my jewelry box. Then I opened the little drawer in the ni
ghtstand and put the notes and the letter in the front cover of one of my books. “You’ll be safer in there,” I said to them before I closed the drawer.

  As I lay down and pulled my blanket up over me, I could feel my pain draining away. Tomorrow I would go to Swatches, and Mason’s heart was still mine to keep.