The Wedding Dress(10)

“But you love baseball, Daniel. What about your chance at the plate, to swing the bat at whatever fancy pitch you choose, to ‘feel the thrill of wood cracking’ . . . Isn’t that what you told me you loved about the game?” Emily popped the air with a pretend bat, smiling, trying to sell Daniel on his own dream, trying to move him away from querying her further about Phillip. She’d not planned for this interaction today. Or tomorrow. Or ever, if she were honest. Oh, Daniel.

“I didn’t think you were listening to me all those nights we walked the quad at school.”

“I heard every word. I loved our evening walks.”

“If I’d had money, I’d have taken you to a picture show or fancy dinner.” He turned his pockets inside out. “What’s a poor college boy to do with a beautiful girl like you? Baseball was all I had to make me sound important.”

“You need not sound important to me. Walking the quad was a fine date, Daniel Ludlow. I still think of those times.”

“So do I and that’s why I quit baseball, Emily. Playing didn’t make sense anymore when I thought of you. Which was all the time.” His breath thinned as his voice became thick. His eyes searched hers. “I don’t love baseball. I love you.”

“Love me? How can you love me? I’ve not seen or heard from you since April.”

“I mailed five or six letters every Saturday asking you to wait for me.” He regarded her from under the bill of his cap. “You really didn’t receive them?”

“Would I say I didn’t if I did?” Emily walked around him, toward the swing hanging from the elm. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her Mother would be serving supper soon, but she couldn’t leave Daniel yet. She pushed her toes against the grass, setting the swing into motion. Daniel leaned against the trunk of the tree.

“Would I say I wrote to you if I didn’t, Emily?” Daniel removed his cap, and his tangled mop of thick brown hair curled over his forehead and around his temples. Emily used to pull his curls free to tease him after he’d worked so hard to slick his hair into place. “I’d like to come calling later this evening if it’s all right with you.”

Emily kicked her feet and raised the swing higher. The August evening hosted an array of colors—pink, purple, orange, and blue—and gave her no ideas on how to tell Daniel, dear Daniel, the news.

Daniel watched her, smiling, but inquiring of her each time their eyes met. May I come calling? Finally he caught the swing and lowered his face to hers.

“What are you not telling me?”

“I didn’t receive your letters, Daniel.” Panic swirled in Emily’s chest and around her thoughts. She slid off the wide wooden seat, trying to press around Daniel into the open yard, but he trapped her in his arms.

“But I’m home now. Letters or not, I feel the same. I’ve secured a job and a large apartment in the Ridley house . . . Emily, I want to speak to your father.”

“Father?” Emily unlocked his arms from around her. “The Ridley?” Did he intend to propose marriage and bring her to live in the Ridley?

“The Ridley is a fine apartment. Not a mansion like your father’s . . .” He waved the cap in his hand toward the large stone house where a cut of the blue day seemed to rest on the dark roof. “But it’s a good, fine place for couples in love to start out. I don’t plan to be a teacher forever, Emily. I have plans to—”

“Phillip—there’s the matter of Phillip, Daniel.”

“W-what do you mean? Phillip who? I thought we had an understanding, Emily.” A sad confusion weighted his expression and his inquiry.

“But you left.” Emily spun away from him. Oh blast, how could she tell him?

“I’ve been gone five months, not five years.” Daniel touched Emily’s shoulder and gentled her around to face him. “You gave up on me so quickly?”

“Daniel, we took a few turns around the campus quad, attended dances and fraternity socials, but . . . it was hardly an understanding.” Emily pressed her hands together. Did her words sound convincing? She’d spent the last five months telling herself what she had with Daniel was infatuation, not love. “Phillip and I became reacquainted at the Black and White Ball. In May.”

“I see.” Daniel averted his gaze as he pressed his cap onto his head.

Stinging tears washed Emily’s eyes when she saw the red tinge on the tip of Daniel’s nose. She covered her exhale and quivering lips with her hand.

“Daniel, listen to me, be serious for a moment. Did you really believe we’d marry?” She stretched her hand to him but pulled back without touching him. “We were and always will be college friends. Nothing more.” Please agree, Daniel. Please agree.

“No, we were much more. I believed we’d marry. That’s why I quit the Barons and returned home.”

“But we made no real declarations. No promises.” No, she did not betray him.

“How could I ask you to marry me when I was riding off in a jitney? But it was understood, Em. Wasn’t it? That we loved each other and wanted to be together?”

“Phillip and I . . . we’re right for each other. Our families have been friends for years. We have the same—”

“Social connections? The same opulent wealth?” Daniel’s tender pleading about-faced to sour and snarly.