Because We Are by Mildred Pitts; Walter Page A

piano.” He pulled her through the crowd, and even before they reached him, Emma knew he was the one. He was older, and he looked so … how could she put it? Distinguished. Not the way he was dressed, but the way he stood there: in the crowd, but definitely apart.
    â€œYou’re Emma,” he said. “I would have known you without Allan. He’s told me so much about you.” He took both of her hands.
    â€œHey, Gary, did he tell you she belongs to me?” Marvin had interrupted, putting an arm around Emma’s shoulder.
    â€œAw, come off it, man,” Gary said, grinning at Marvin. “You can’t claim all the beautiful women in the world.”
    So this was Gary and he knew Marvin. Emma wiggled Marvin’s arm off her shoulder. “From Stanford, eh?” She ignored Marvin.
    â€œFrom the ghetto, attending Stanford.”
    â€œAll right! Got it. Let’s go back to the piano,” Emma said, still ignoring Marvin.
    â€œLet me meet some of these fine ladies first,” Allan said.
    Emma introduced Allan and Gary around the room. There were never enough men at a party. Many of the girls joined them as Allan sat at the piano. Suddenly there was quiet and Emma was surprised as Allan tested the keys. “You didn’t tell me you could play,” she cried.
    He grinned. “You didn’t ask me.”
    The record player was no competition. Everybody wanted Allan to go on playing. Emma danced with Gary again and again. She learned he was a sophomore in pre-med. “So you’re going to be a doctor, too,” she said.
    â€œWhy you say ‘too’?”
    â€œMy father’s a doctor, and I’ll be a doctor one of these days.”
    â€œSo you’re not in awe of the profession. Good. I can relax and make some mistakes. Meeting you proves I’m lucky to know Allan.”
    â€œWho doesn’t feel lucky knowing Allan? He’s my ace. How do you know him?”
    â€œWe played in a combo together before I left. He’s a way-out musician, never had a lesson. But let’s not talk about Allan. You’re far more interesting. Where will I send my messages to you?”
    Suddenly Allan stopped playing. “Start the record player,” he said. “I gotta git in one dance, at least.” He grabbed Emma.
    In the middle of the dance, Marvin moved in. “What you trying to do, man? You know this is my woman. You guys from the ghetto think you can just come in and take over,” he said angrily.
    Allan raised both hands and laughed as if to say he was not armed. “Say, man, I don’t intend to take over. She’s your lady. I understand that.” Allan moved away.
    â€œNo, Allan,” Emma said, taking his hand. “Let’s finish this dance.”
    â€œYou come over here with me,” Marvin demanded, taking Emma by the arm.
    To avoid a scene, Emma followed him into a corner. “Listen, Marvin, I don’t like what you’re doing. I am not your woman . I’m not your lady.”
    â€œSince when?”
    â€œSince you haven’t bothered to call; since you can feel free to do with or without me; and since you’re acting so silly. Allan is your friend as well as mine.”
    â€œNo such thing as friendship between a man and a woman. If you’re not my woman, whose woman are you?”
    For the first time she was beginning to see through Marvin’s selfishness. She had known all along that he took her love for granted, unconditionally; but she could not admit it before. “I’m my own woman,” she said, trying to control her anger. “And I’ll have you know, I’ll dance with Allan, I’ll dance with Gary, I’ll dance with anybody I please. ”
    â€œHey-y-y.” He took her hands and tried to draw her to him.
    She pushed him away. “It won’t work this time, Marvin. I never interfered with you and your women because I have no claim on you. I