I checked the fit of my dress in the bedroom mirror and decided that I looked pretty good tonight. It didn’t really matter how I looked as I was going to the local high school’s senior prom with my brother-in-law Richard, but I didn’t want him to be embarrassed to be seen with me.
Though Richard was good-looking and fun to be around, he was somewhat shy around girls his age, so by the time he’d worked up the courage to ask Angie Paulson to the prom, she already had a date. He had been complaining about not having a date and I asked him, “Why don’t you go solo? There might be a pretty girl there solo also.” Women’s lib was in full swing so I thought there’d be a few there.
“Aw, Shelley, the ones who’d go alone wouldn’t be pretty,” Richard replied. He went to the refrigerator and extracted a can of Coke. When he turned around and popped the top, he said, “You could go with me. You’ve still got the dress you wore when you went to your senior prom, don’t you.”
Evidently Richard had been listening when his older sister and I had been discussing clothes in our closets that we’d probably never wear again.
“I do. But do you think you would enjoy yourself if I went with you?”
“Why wouldn’t I? You and I always laugh at the same jokes.”
Just then Stephen came into the kitchen; he’d been golfing and was ready for supper, which was on the stove. “What joke are you two laughing about?” he asked.
“No joke,” Richard told Stephen. “I asked Shelley to go to the prom with me and she doesn’t think I’d enjoy myself. Tell her to go with me.”
“Why not?” Stephen replied. “No one here much knows you, and it’d give you something different to do.” He grinned at me. “Besides, Richard needs to be seen out with someone besides his sister and aunts.”
I had to laugh at that. One of Richard and Stephen’s sisters was only twelve so Richard was her unofficial chauffeur. Two of their aunts didn’t drive, so Richard took them to the grocery store, their doctors, clothes shopping and to church on Sundays. How he had time to work part-time to pay for his car and gas always amazed me.
“Okay, I’ll go,” I told them. I hadn’t done much socializing since Stephen and I moved to his home town a few months earlier. I did free-lance proofreading for publishing companies so didn’t get out of the house much. Most of the people I’d met were family and church members.
So, here I am, on prom night, checking how I look, seeing if my hair is behaving, and wondering why I was doing this. Oh yeah, something different to do.
Satisfied that my hair is in place, my dress fits nicely, and my shoes aren’t too tight, I walk to the living room where Richard is waiting for me, wearing a nice-fitting black suit. Not a tux, but he doesn’t need one. It’s a wonder girls aren’t calling him all the time.
We go out to Richard’s well-maintained Lexus. He bought it from an elderly neighbor when her doctor and her children insisted she stop driving. Maybe that was why his aunts always wanted him to drive them around; a luxury car driven by a good-looking young man let them impress other women their age.
We arrive at the high school, park and walk into the gym. The prom theme is “Magic Is In The Air” and the gym is decorated accordingly, with plenty of sparkle on nearly every surface. Silver glitter on the floor swirls in the slight breezes generated by the swish of the girls’ evening gowns.
Everyone seems to be in a good mood, laughing and speaking to everyone they meet. Richard and I get some questioning looks, and he introduces me to a few of his friends; I have met one or two and they seem amused by my attendance.
Once into the main part of the gym, among the tables and near the dance floor, one of Richard’s friends leans over and asks, “Did you see the limo outside?”
Richard says, “Yeah. Who’s in it?”
“You should know,” the friend replies. “Jasper Elwood, who else?”
“That figures,” Richard says. “He’s always trying to impress someone. What’s he wearing, a baby-blue tux?”
“Worse,” the friend says. “A red crushed-velvet one.”
“Oh boy,” Richard says.
While I am wondering whether or not to ask Richard about this Jasper, he finds an empty table and we sit down. As the band starts playing, we are joined by two of Richard’s friends and their dates. Introductions are made: Chad and Rose, David and Julie. The conversation centers around who is with who and who looks the best in their fancy clothes.
“Oh shit,” mutters Chad. “Tell me Jasper is not coming to our table.”
“Jasper is not coming to our table,” David says and laughs, as he is turning to see what Chad is looking at. “Oh shit. Jasper is coming to our table.”
I turn to my left and see who I assume is Jasper walking toward us. He has on a red crushed-velvet tux, and wears it well. Black hair curls over the collar of the tux, and sweeps across his forehead. While not classically handsome, nor as good-looking as Richard, Jasper makes an impression on me. Immediately.
Ignoring everyone else at the table, Jasper extends his hand to me and asks, “May I have this dance?”
I look at Richard and raise an eyebrow. He nods, but his expression is not friendly.
I turn back to Jasper, and answer, “Yes, you may.” I put my hand in his and am astonished at the jolt I feel as he wraps his fingers around mine. I am surprised that my legs support me when I stand and Jasper pulls me closer to him. We walk to the dance floor and I thank all my lucky stars that the band is playing a waltz, for I don’t believe I have the strength to do any dance requiring rhythm and movement.
We step onto the dance floor and Jasper pulls me into his arms and I gasp. The heat I feel emanating from him is startling. He pulls me closer and all I can do is hope I don’t collapse on the dance floor, as my entire body is wanting to fully relax into Jasper’s embrace and never leave. He whispers in my ear, “Stay with me, babe.”
All I can say is, “Oh, yes.” I really have no choice for Jasper’s right arm is around my waist so tight I don’t think I could leave his embrace even if I wanted to.
Jasper holds me close through the waltz. As the band does the intro to a faster song, Jasper guides me through the other couples on the dance floor, back to the table.
Once there, he keeps a firm grip on my hand, and tells Richard, “She’s going home with me.”
That I do not expect, nor do I expect Richard’s response, a gruff, “Like hell she is. She’s my sister-in-law, not some skank like you usually date.”
“I don’t care who she is,” Jasper replies. “She’s mine now and no one else’s.”
Richard stands up slowly, and takes a step toward Jasper and me. I put my hand on his chest and say, “Please don’t start anything because of me.”
He looks down at my hand, gently removes it from his chest, and before I am aware of his intent, punches Jasper in the jaw.
Jasper returns the punch. Rose, Julie and I can only watch as Chad and David join the fray, trying desperately to separate Jasper and Richard.
Two hours, some broken furniture, five cops and dozens of questions later, Jasper and I are in the limo.
“Babe,” he says, I don’t even know your name, but when I saw you, I knew you were the one for me for the rest of my life. Will you be my wife?”
I look into his deep brown eyes and wonder at this strange state of affairs. I had thought I was in love with Stephen, that we had passion in our life, but the instant Jasper touched me, I knew his love was the love I had been needing.
I reply, “Yes, I will.”
Jasper pulls me to him, gives me a tender kiss, and tells the chauffeur to take us home. As we sit close together, his arm around my shoulders, my head on his chest, Jasper says, “Babe, I still don’t know your name.”
