Because We Are by Mildred Pitts; Walter

time.

Twelve
    When people are happy, they look pretty, Emma said to herself as she put on makeup, getting ready for Cheryl’s party. She decided she was not happy. She would prefer to be going with Marvin, but she knew that she would have to ignore him if he showed. He would show, all right, she was sure of that. Thank goodness Allan would be there. He had called to ask if he could bring a friend who was home from Stanford for the holidays. Could it be a girl? He had better not bring a girl, with all of her friends waiting to look him over. Suppose he brought a white chick? He wouldn’t dare . Not Allan.
    As her mother drove to Cheryl’s, Emma told her about her father’s visit.
    â€œDid they like my fruitcake?”
    â€œOh, Mama, they sure did. But I think they liked your bread better. Daddy asked for some to take home. I gave him some cookies, too.”
    â€œGood thinking. How’re you gonna get home?”
    â€œCall you. Or should I take a taxi?”
    â€œCall me. I don’t want you coming alone.”
    â€œI’m a big girl, Mama.”
    â€œI’ll say!” They both laughed.
    Emma thought of the possibility of making up with Marvin. “If I get a ride, I’ll let you know, OK?” Then she began to worry. How would her friends react to her? Only Dee had come by during the crisis, and only Cheryl had called, just to verify Allan’s coming. Would they be glad to see her? She wished Allan had a car so he could have picked her up.
    Her mother waited at the curb until Cheryl let her in. The party was underway with mostly girls. Emma was welcomed with squeals of delight. All of the girls who had been at Dee’s slumber party were there; girls from Marlborough she hadn’t seen since she’d left were there. She looked around, wondering where the fellows were. She hoped the room would not remain full of girls only.
    Already Melanie was a frequent visitor to the punch bowl; and Emma learned that Cheryl’s idea of two punch bowls was working in Melanie’s favor. Cheryl had convinced her mother that a bowl of grapefruit juice would be great for those on a diet, and a heavy, fruity punch would do for the others. Melanie claimed the grapefruit juice for her flask of vodka and was happy.
    The music was going and the girls were dancing en masse with those boys who cared to dance. Every time the doorbell rang, Emma’s heartbeat quickened. How would she act if Marvin came in?
    â€œEmma, where’s Marvin?” Tanya asked.
    Emma controlled the impulse to refer the question to Melanie and said, “I haven’t heard from him. Ask Cheryl if she invited him.”
    â€œAsk me if I invited who?”
    â€œMarvin, Cheryl,” Tanya said.
    â€œYes. But I’m waiting for Emma’s Manning friend.”
    â€œThat’s the guest we’re all waiting for,” Dee shouted.
    Fellows dribbled in and out, and soon there were enough for couples to dance. Finally the odor of weed crept through the room. Marvin walked in and Emma’s heart flip-flopped. Immediately he was surrounded with admirers. Some welcome for one they were all mad at, she thought.
    â€œThe Bacardi for the party is here,” Marvin said and produced a bottle of rum for the fruit punch. Everybody cheered and the party took on new life.
    Emma waited. She pretended not to notice-his watching her, as if he were waiting for her to make the initial move. Finally she went into an adjoining space where Linda was banging on the piano. They formed a duet and played “Chopsticks” against the sound of the record player. Then Emma felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked around. At first she did not recognize the fellow. Suddenly she squealed, “Allan! You’re so dressed up.”
    He hugged her. “I didn’t know you played the piano.”
    â€œYou call that playing? We were just clowning.”
    â€œCome, meet my friend and we’ll come back to the