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I stood there, my skin tingling, wanting it to go on forever. When had it happened? When had my feelings stepped over the line? I hadn't planned it. I'd tried to avoid it. I'd set out to prevent it even. Yet there I stood motionless, his hand resting on my face, and I couldn't envision myself with anyone else. Was that love?
The moment had to end for the sun set rapidly in the sky, and my papa would want to know where I was. I opened my mouth to say so, but the words just wouldn't come. He solved the problem by kissing me again. However, this time the passion of his embrace spread up my spine and into my limbs.
"Dear God," I expressed when the air returned to my lungs. "I will never sleep tonight."
He laughed and shook his head. "Tell me when I can see you then."
"Tomorrow I have to work at the store, but we could do somethin’ after. Come by around six."
The front door opened, and Marta's head peered out. "Is it safe?" she called.
I stuck my tongue out at her and moved away, with great reluctance releasing his hand.
"Tomorrow," he said, and I nodded.
Marta snagged me when I approached and yanked me inside. I always felt so small in their entrance. Her father had lavish taste.
"Tell me. Tell me. Tell me," she babbled, springing up and down.
I laughed at her and looked up the stairwell. Voices down here always carried. "Tell you what?"
"Tomorrow?"
I shrugged, "Oh that. Just more talk."
She threw her hands to her hips, her eyes sparkling. "But you said he should meet you at the store, so things are good between you?"
"Gloriously, wonderfully good," I declared.
"Did he? I mean ... you know," and she looked upward too.
"Uh huh. Twice."
She grabbed my arm. "Oh! Then it's serious?"
The clock in the hallway gonged loudly, and I peeled her fingers away. "I gotta go. It's late. Is your mother feelin’ any better?"
Marta made a face. "I think she's upstairs, as usual. Papa says she needs more rest."
I called back as I exited the doorway. "I'll pray for her."
Arthur crouched around the corner his ear pressed to the wall. He'd risked a lot coming here at this hour while the family was awake. Finding the door open, he’d entered. He wanted to talk to him, but perhaps it wasn't necessary.
His mind spun. Tomorrow.
What if he moved things up? It was only the matter of one day. If he moved it up, then he could be at the Christmas Eve dance tomorrow–with Marta. It meant doing this himself, but he was able. He glanced down at his lame leg. He'd have to time it just right.
His pulse raced, and he pictured himself with Marta on his arm, her eyes looking adoring into his.
Yes, it would work, and he knew how to go about it.
I stared at the clock and paced again to the door for the hundredth time. Craning my neck this way and that, I saw no sign of Elias. It was only fifteen minutes past six, so maybe he'd been detained. When six thirty rolled around, I decided to walk to Marta's.
Elias and I had parted on good terms yesterday. My face heated at the thought. In fact, more than good terms, so there was no reason why he'd avoid coming. My steps took me a different route to her house than normal, and I arrived at their doorstep some fifteen minutes later. I knocked loudly.
Marta opened the door. "Angel? But I thought ..."
"Is Elias here?" I asked. "I waited and waited, but he didn't come to the store.”
She stepped out onto the porch, and the door slammed shut behind her. "He left just a few minutes ago. He said you sent a note askin’ him to come later."
I wrinkled my brow. "A note?"
She tilted her head at me. "You didn't send a note?"
"No."
“Perhaps he was confused. Hans said he talked in his sleep last night, kept mumblin’ your name." She laughed. "He probably didn't get enough rest. Too busy moonin’ over you."
My insides fluttered. "Well, I’ll walk back then. Maybe we missed each other.”
She nodded and waved as I returned to the street. Halfway through the park, I heard a splintering crash of glass and strident voices from the direction of the store and so I picked up the pace. Dashing between the benches and across the brick street, I slid to a stop.
"Elias?"
Stiff and unnatural, he turned around, the shattered store window behind him.