His gaze flashed to mine and his cheeks flushed. “I don’t like to see you dancing with them girls.”
“And why’s that?”
He put his face as close to my ear as he could without ending up in my arms, so he wouldn’t be overheard. “Because I want to dance with you, Jimmy. And we can’t. Not here.”
“You’re right. But we can do it at home. And we can do it at Clarence and Irene’s,” I said, taking a glass of punch off a tray that one of the ladies was carrying around. She smiled and moved on.
“I don’t reckon we’ll be going to more than one of these things a year, and I figure we can show our faces every spring and set the town to talking about who we are and why we ain’t keen on hooking up with anyone. They’ll make up their own minds about why that is. Nobody’s gonna jump to the one conclusion that’s the simplest, because most folks don’t think that way. They prefer to ignore the things they don’t understand, or that make them uncomfortable. They’ll decide we’re simply committed bachelors or too ornery for marriage, or that we simply ain’t got no interest in it. There are people who are like that, and I reckon that’s easier for most folks to deal with than the truth. So, it’s best for them that we keep our secret, as well as for us.”
“I suppose,” Oscar said, sighing. “You look mighty handsome is all, and I wish I could show you off as my husband.”
“I know,” I said. “We’d best stop talking about this, but I feel the same way. I want you to know that.”
Irene came o’er and collapsed against the wall beside Oscar, lifting a hand to her forehead.
“Well, my goodness, I don’t think I can go another round, Clarence! You’ve tuckered me right out.”
Clarence had a very satisfied look on his face. “I reckon I have.”
“You know everyone’s staring at us? Because you’re usually so grumpy and nobody ever knew you could have this much fun.”
T’was true. The townsfolk did seem surprised by Clarence and Irene being here in the first place, and also because they’d spent the entire social dancing together.
Clarence shrugged. “Hmph. They can be surprised. I don’t care a whit.”
“Ah, there you go. Back to your old self, now,” Irene said, grinning at him fondly. “Now everyone can relax.”
Clarence narrowed his eyes at her. “You watch yourself, woman.”
But Irene only laughed and turned to Oscar. “How are you and Jimmy doing? Are you ready to go home or do you want to stay a bit longer?”
“Home,” Oscar said. “Please.”
“Oh, Oscar,” Irene murmured, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine. I just want to go home.”
She looked back and forth between us. “Clarence, you’d better get the wagon.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Reparations
Irene, who’d spent the entire evening with Clarence, declined to sit with him in the wagon and insisted on getting into the box with Oscar and me. T’was covered with a wool blanket so our fancy clothes would stay clean. We arranged Oscar in between us and leaned against the sides of the wagon box, gazing at the trees beside the dirt road and the stars o’er our heads.
Irene produced a flask from inside her skirts and offered it to Oscar, who took it with a grin. He had a long swallow then passed it to me.
“Irene, you’re all right,” I said.
“That punch was fine but, goddamn it, I need a real drink,” Irene said, throwing her arm around Oscar.
“How did you enjoy it, Oscar?”
“Truly?”
“Truly.”
“I hated every minute of it. I hated that I couldn’t walk in there, hand-in-hand with my husband, and show him off as mine.”
