The House of Eve (12)



Suddenly, a shrill voice calling William’s name interrupted the moment between them.

They both turned to see Greta Hepburn, president of the ABCs and homecoming queen for two years straight, gliding in their direction. She nearly fell into William’s arms as she pecked him on his cheek.

He looked startled by the affection. “Good to see you, Greta,” he said, taking a step back, forcing her to drop her embrace.

Greta flung her soft wavy hair over her shoulder and turned to Eleanor. “I assume you received your letter?” She looked as if she was trying to muster sympathy, but it never reached her honey-colored eyes.

Eleanor nodded, desperately wishing that Greta had kept her mouth shut in front of William.

“Better luck next year. Stay persistent,” she cooed, then twirled to William. “I’m so thirsty. Would you be a doll and get me some punch?”

“Sure,” William said. “Eleanor, anything else?”

“No, thank you.”

William walked off as Greta moved so close that Eleanor could smell expensive department store perfume.

“How do you know William?”

“We just met.”

“He and I go way back. We practically bathed together as children,” she laughed. “Our families are very close.”

Eleanor didn’t know what to say, so she nodded and sipped her drink. William made his way back toward them grinning. Was the affectionate look for her or Greta? It was hard to tell with them standing so close to each other, but it was probably for Greta. Eleanor had to admit that Greta was a sight. Everyone on campus said so. Eleanor had never seen her without every hair perfect and in place. She reeked of money, dressed in the most eye-catching clothes and carried herself like she was the prima donna of Howard. Greta’s skin was so white the only thing that identified her as a Negro was that she attended Howard with the rest of them.

“Here you are.” William extended the drink toward Greta, and as she reached for it, her elbow slipped back behind her, knocking against Eleanor’s glass and tipping the bright Orange Crush down the front of her borrowed frock.

“I’m so sorry,” she shrieked, but didn’t move to do anything about it.

William stepped in and handed Eleanor his embroidered handkerchief. “Are you okay?”

“Fine.”

Just humiliated, she thought. The band started playing again.

“William, let’s dance.” Greta grabbed him by the arm. William looked at Eleanor.

“I’m going to pop into the ladies’ lounge to clean up. You two have fun,” Eleanor offered, walking away before anyone had a chance to respond.

When she peered at herself in the long mirror, she saw the wet spot soaked down the front of Nadine’s frock. Now she’d have to spring for dry cleaning. Greta had bumped her on purpose, Eleanor was sure of it. Was it not enough to reject her from the ABCs?

Eleanor dabbed at the neckline with a wet paper towel, at least thankful the drink hadn’t been tea or Coke. Still, she was ruined for the night, and knew the best thing for her to do was to return to her dormitory. There was time enough for her to get in a few chapters of philosophy before bed if she left now.

On her way out, Eleanor glanced at the dance floor, where Greta swayed, her arms wrapped around William’s neck. They made the most handsome pair, looking like a couple right out of a magazine.

We practically bathed together as children.

It was just as well. There was no way that William Pride, a future doctor, could be interested in a girl like Eleanor. He had all but declared her a boring bookworm on the dance floor. Eleanor patted herself on the back for not getting too swept up in the easy nature of his hands around her waist and the kind voice in her ear. William had been polite to call on her, but it meant nothing.

She took one last look at the dance floor. Nadine was shimmying on one end, and on the other, Greta leaned in and said something that made William chuckle. Eleanor headed for the door. It wasn’t until she landed outside and felt the cool night air graze her knuckles that she realized she was still clutching William’s handkerchief.





CHAPTER FIVE ACTING UGLY



Ruby




Sunlight flooded the apartment, making it hard for me to sleep in. I rolled over on the lumpy pullout sofa to the sight of Aunt Marie sitting at the table with a piece of frozen beef against her face.

“What happened?” My wool blanket fell to my hips.

“Right before closing, I had to sucker punch a fool who couldn’t hold his liquor and was running off at the mouth.”

“You all right?”

“Looks worse than it is. Just mad at myself for not ducking.” She winced through the gap in her teeth. “I don’t know who let him in, but I could tell he was trouble by the way he sat through the show jeering all night. Management gon’ to have to do a better job screening folk. Kiki’s is a safe haven for us.”

By “us” she didn’t mean just our people, she meant her kind of people. The kind that wore what they wanted and kissed who they wanted. She let the meat down, and I could see the swirl of black and blue marbling around her left eye.

“What you need me to do?”

“Run on over to 31st Street and pick up a few things.”

When I slid my bare feet onto the cold hardwood floor, I immediately started to tremble. The furnace had gone out, but I could still smell the embers. The chill made me sneeze over and over again until my eyes watered.

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