Young Love in Old Chicago

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  Later, when I was changing into my nightgown in my upstairs bedroom, a piece of paper fell out of my dress’s pocket and landed gently on my bare foot. I bent down to pick it up. Stay awake was written on it in the same handwriting the thank you note had been. I held it in front of my face and stared at it. Stay awake. Was it from Mason? It had to be. There was no way it could’ve gotten from his building to me accidentally. He must have slipped it in my pocket somehow without me knowing. And that meant that he wrote the note the night before, too. I wondered why he would be thanking me. The second note was even stranger, though. Stay awake? Why? Maybe he’ll come see me tonight. The thought sent a thrill and a shiver up my spine.

  But it would be wrong, an absolute scandal. Then again, what harm could come from meeting him at the door for a couple of minutes.

  “I can’t let him see me in this,” I said to myself, looking down at my warm nightgown and placing a hand on the curlers in my hair. But my mother would be in to tell me goodnight at nine, just before she went to bed.

  So I climbed into bed and sat there with my blanket pulled up around me, wide awake. The moonlight poured in from the window right behind me, lighting up the pale yellow walls of my room.

  I wondered how late he would come, or if he would come at all. I wondered if I should tell him I never wanted to see him again when he came, after he asked me to do such a thing. But that would become something I regretted for the rest of my life, I knew.

  Fifteen minutes passed by before I heard my door open. “Still awake?” my mother asked quietly.

  “Yes.”

  She moved across my room and sat beside me on my bed. “So, how serious do you think things are with Mason?” she asked.

  “There’s nothing there, Mother.” Well, at least not from his side of things.

  “Come on, Alexandra.” My mother went on for a while, trying to get anything out of me that she could. And I kept telling her he was just a friend.

  I wanted us to be more, of course. I found myself just as desperately attracted to Mason’s personality and the fun we had together as I was to his appearance, but I doubted he viewed me the same way.

  When my mother realized she was getting nowhere, she gave me a hug and left to go to bed. I waited a few minutes to jump out of bed, put my dress back on, and pull the curlers out of my hair.

  Then I got back into my bed and waited. The previous two afternoons played through my head. I closed my eyes and saw Mason’s gorgeous face. I still couldn’t believe how things had gone. But how long could it go on? How long would it be until he realized he was too good-looking to be spending any time with me? How long would it take him to see his own flawlessness and to realize how full of flaws I was? How long…I would worry about that tomorrow. Tonight, I would be with him, a wakeful dream…Tonight…me…with Mason…