So Close to You (So Close to You - Trilogy) (25 page)

Wes chased me into the past against every order he’s ever had. I think he’s starting to feel something for me now, but I can’t be sure. He was raised in a cold place, with no love and no warmth. Does he even know what loving someone means? Could we ever care about each other in the same way?

Mary nudges me and I turn to her. “Here.” She holds out a tube of lipstick.

I point to my lips. “I already have some.”

“I know, silly! But this is for later, when you go to the powder room. You don’t want a pale mouth.”

“Where am I supposed to put that? I don’t have a purse.”

“You can put it in mine.” Susie holds up a tiny beaded clutch. “Though I might not have room.”

“Just stick it in your bra,” Mary says.

“What?”

She rolls her eyes, holding out the tube. “Your bra! Put it in.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Everyone does it.” I gawk at her. “Fine, I’ll do it for you. Come here.” She lunges at me, lipstick in hand.

“Get away from me!” We both fall back onto the bed, a tangle of red taffeta. I roll over, shrieking with laughter.

“Okay, okay!” I push her away. “Give me the tube.”

Still laughing, she shoves the curls out of her face and hands it over. I stick it down my cleavage, tucking it into my bra.

“Happy?”

“Very.” Mary gets up from the bed, smoothing down her dress.

“Oh no,” Susie gasps. “Don’t look.”

“What, what it is?” Mary asks. She lifts the hem of her dress. “Drat!” Some of the leg makeup must have rubbed off on the skirt, which now has a slight tannish smear near the bottom. “What am I going to do?”

“We’ll put cold water on it.” Susie steers Mary toward the bedroom door. “Let’s get a washcloth from the bathroom.”

The two girls disappear. I reach for the blue dress that’s hanging near Mary’s closet. I step into it, struggling to zip up the back by myself, then turn to examine myself in the mirror.

My dress is a shiny, sapphire blue that falls around my body like liquid. The dress has princess shoulders with long sleeves, a scooped neck, and a slinky skirt. The color is bright against my pale skin and makes my eyes look even greener. I slip on the short white beaded gloves that Mary left out for me, and step into low black heels. I twirl around, watching the skirt flare out around me.

Since I’ve been in the past, I’ve been consumed by thoughts of Dean and the Montauk Project. Tomorrow I
have
to tell Dean what’s going to happen to him. I have to confront the new future I’m trying to create.

But tonight I want to put those thoughts aside. Tonight I want to drink punch and dance and laugh with Mary and her friends, knowing that tomorrow everything could change forever.

I hope that Wes
is
spying on me, because right now I don’t care if we’ve been doomed from the start. I want, for just one night, to close the distance that always seems to separate us.

M
ary
, Susie, and I sit in the backseat of Dr. Bentley’s car, our skirts a waterfall of red, black, and blue. It’s a short drive to the Tennis Auditorium, a large Tudor clubhouse not far from Montauk Manor. In my time it’s a playhouse and a community center, but in 1944 it’s another building occupied by the navy.

The road around us is dotted with parked cars, army trucks, and navy jeeps. We pass a group of girls, their heels sinking into the dirt. Dr. Bentley drives slowly, stopping when we’re near the entrance. Toward the side of the building, I can see glowing lights and bodies moving through the shadows in between them.

“Thanks for driving us.” Mary climbs out of the car. Susie and I follow her. We walk through the dark, weaving around parked cars as we make our way toward the bright spot on the lawn. I hear music, the blare of a trumpet, the low moan of a saxophone.

“Jimmy, no. We can’t!” A girl’s voice giggles from behind one of the cars, and I see the shape of a couple embracing, his head in her neck, his hand high on her thigh. He whispers something to her and she giggles again, leaning into his arms. I look away, my face hot, and I can’t help but think of Wes leaning over me on the beach last night.

The dance has been set up on the side lawn, a large open space surrounded by trees. A wide dance floor has been created in the middle of it, and a band is raised on a small stage made of plywood. Two trumpeters stand toward the back of the stage. A saxophone player and a clarinetist sit in front of them on wooden folding chairs. There’s a man holding a stand-up bass, while a blond woman in a tight dress sings into a microphone. She’s belting out a fast song, about bugle boys in Company B, and she twists her hips and hands as she sings.

“What is this song?” I ask.

Mary gives me a strange look. “‘Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy.’ Everyone knows that, Lyd.”

Wooden poles with hanging glass lanterns surround the dance floor. As we get closer, I realize that they’re actually large mason jars with candles inside. The makeshift lanterns swing from side to side in the breeze. More jars are scattered around the lawn, dangling from nearby trees or tucked into the grass.

We walk across the lawn. The dance floor is already packed with couples, some pressed close, oblivious to the music, most twisting and turning to the fast beat of the song, their legs kicking to the sides, their arms tight around each other. The men lead, twirling the women in circles, whipping them to the sides and then back, sometimes lifting them up in the air, so high their skirts fly in different directions. I pause, taking it all in. I’ve never seen anything like this, never been to a dance that didn’t have a DJ playing overproduced techno. This is different, strange … magical.

Mary sees me standing still, a little dazed, and she grabs my arm and yanks me to the edge of the dance floor, where wooden folding chairs have been set up on one side. She pulls off her jacket, throwing it onto a nearby chair. “Let’s get a drink first!” she shouts over the music. Susie nods and we follow Mary toward a refreshment table. Mary picks up a glass of pink punch, sipping it as she sways from side to side.

“Hi,” a boy shouts into her ear, smiling. He’s on the short side, with brownish hair and kind of a square head. He’s wearing a white navy uniform. “You’re a real blackout girl.” Mary giggles. “Let’s dance.” He grabs her hand and pulls her into the crowd. She has just enough time to shove her drink in my direction and give us a playful shrug before she’s swallowed up in the sea of dancers.

“Are you going to dance too?” I ask Susie as the song changes. It’s slower, but still swingy and loose.

“Of course she is,” a male voice says, his arm swooping in and pulling Susie forward. It’s Mick, her fiancé. Apparently he didn’t have to work tonight. He sweeps her out onto the floor.

“Hey, sugar, are you rationed?” A nearby sailor asks me.

“I don’t know.” I take a sip of the sugary punch. I’m pretty sure there’s rum in it. “What does it mean?”

I feel someone beside me, and I look up to see Lucas standing near my shoulder. He’s glaring at the soldier. “Scram,” he says.

“Looks like you are, honey.” The sailor winks at me and turns to join his buddies.

I face Lucas. He gives me an appraising look, taking in my slinky dress, my curls. His eyes linger on my dark red lips.

I fidget under his gaze. So much has happened since I last saw him: I discovered that Mary is his future bride. I started to realize my feelings for Wes. I’m not sure how to act around Lucas now.

“Do you want to dance?” he asks.

I look out at the couples, at the swingy steps they all seem to know by heart.

“I don’t really know how to dance like that.”

“The jitterbug?” He points to a couple moving their arms and legs in quick, bouncing steps.

“Or any of it.”

“Hmm.” He leans forward. “Some of that Lindy hopping might be a bit hard, but we can certainly teach you how to swing. You
do
know the triple step, right?”

I shake my head.

“It’s real easy.” He holds out a hand. I hesitate for a second, but then I take it. Lucas and I are friends, and he’s never given me any real indication that he wants more. We can certainly share a harmless dance. “Just follow my lead.”

He pulls me onto the dance floor. We’re surrounded by sweating, bouncing couples. Someone bumps into me and we’re pushed closer together. The music is loud, the woman’s voice high and staccato.

“Put your arm on my shoulder,” Lucas says. “And give me your other hand.” I close my fingers around his. “Step forward as I step back. Then back as I step forward.” We complete the short movements.

“Now to the side, and then in a circle.” He guides me with a hand on my back, and my body moves with his. We turn in a circle, not quite as fast as the other couples, but I’m not tripping over myself either. He steps me backward, then spins me around, catching me as I twirl into him.

“See? Easy.” He smiles, holding me against his chest.

“Easy,” I repeat, grinning back.

There’s a tap on my shoulder. It’s Mary, standing with her partner.

“Time to switch!”

Lucas opens his mouth to say something, then pauses, glancing from me to Mary. “Of course. Let’s dance, Mary.”

I step away from Lucas and take the square-headed soldier’s outstretched hand. He’s not much taller than I am, and his palms are slick. I almost trip as he twirls me, pulling me forward roughly. When the song comes to an end, I quickly escape back to the refreshment table.

I pick up my glass and take another sip. There’s definitely rum in this punch. I consider leaving it on the table. But tonight I want to step outside myself, and that includes trying something new. I toss back the punch, grimacing as the sugary liquid slides down my throat.

Mary and Lucas join me at the end of the next song, laughing and fanning themselves. Mick and Susie come to grab a drink, and Lucas entertains us with stories about growing up on the farm. I drink another glass of punch.

Mick puts down his cup and grabs Mary, pulling her onto the dance floor. They start to jitterbug, their legs kicking up in unison, their arms bouncing and swaying.

“They’re so good!” I say to no one in particular.

“Yeah, and they know it.” Susie laughs. “I need to go get my man.” She cuts in on the couple, pulling Mick close. Mary is snatched up by another boy, and they start dancing, her skirt flying up around her makeup-covered legs.

I see Jinx in the crowd, dark hair bouncing as she flies across the floor. The music changes again, and the song is slow. I’m starting to feel the effects of the rum punch; the lights are hazy inside their glass jars, the couples spin and spin, blending together. I don’t even flinch when I feel Lucas close his hand over mine. I think he’s leading me to join our friends on the dance floor, but instead he pulls me away toward the other side of the lawn.

He stops near the edge of the trees, where a single lantern hangs on a branch above our heads.

I look up at him. “What is it?”

“I think we should talk.” He taps his finger against his pant leg in a nervous gesture.

“Okay.” My voice is slow. “About what?”

“I know we haven’t known each other for very long.” He pauses. It’s dark, but I think he might be blushing. “I’ve been thinking about you lately. A lot.”

My mouth falls open. “What?”

“I wanted to ask you tonight.” He still won’t look me full in the face. “To go with me to the dance.”

“Lucas—” I try to cut him off, but he plows ahead.

“But then you were sick and I … lost my nerve.” He shrugs, one corner of his mouth lifting into a lopsided smile. “I feel like I know you, Lydia. Like we have this connection I can’t explain. Maybe it’s because we both lost someone we love. I don’t know. I just feel different about you, and I have since we first met on the base.”

Guilt blossoms inside of me. Guilt from my lie. Guilt about Mary. Even guilt over Wes, though I still don’t know how he feels about me. “Lucas, there’s a lot you don’t know....”

“I’m willing to learn. I want to
know
you, Lydia.” His face is so open and trusting. I turn my head away quickly and then close my eyes as the world realigns.