Dream When You're Feeling Blue by Elizabeth Berg Read Free Book Online

habits rubbed off, you know. A girl could be perfectly innocent, but put her around enough of those who weren’t, and…Well. Lie down with dogs and you’ll rise up with fleas. Remember where you came from, and get home at a decent hour. “Remember where you came from” was Margaretese for “Remember your morals.” And “morals” was Margaretese for everything from unfolding your napkin to laying it properly across your lap to…much more.
    The tall, redheaded girl serving as hostess at the refreshment table poured punch for Kitty and nearly missed her cup, so busy was she scanning the crowd. “Sorry!” she told Kitty, and Kitty said it was okay, although if the girl had spilled on her new dress there’d have been hell to pay. “Lotta cute guys tonight, huh?” the girl said.
    “I just got here,” Kitty said, and the girl, scanning the crowd again, said, “Well, take my word for it, sister, there’s a surplus of droolies here tonight!” Kitty smiled; this one was what Julian would call “khaki wacky.” But he would also say that she was Able-Grable. A blackout girl. A dilly. Good-looking, in other words.
    Kitty walked back over to Louise and nudged her. She pointed with her chin to a couple getting amorous in the corner. The man’s mouth was barely an inch away from the girl’s. Louise drew in a breath and turned away. “Stop staring!” she told Kitty, but Kitty wouldn’t. If they were going to kiss, Kitty wanted to see. But they didn’t kiss. They joined hands and moved farther into the shadows.
    Tish had hit the dance floor as soon as they arrived. It was so crowded, it was sometimes hard to move. But move they did. Kitty saw every variation of the jitterbug: the Lindy Hop, the Balboa, the Jersey Bounce. Some people were doing the Jig Walk and the Flea Hop. They were shagging, trucking, and Suzy-Qing. Some couples were conversation dancing, standing close together and holding each other’s hands. Kitty moved her shoulders from side to side and tapped her foot. She knew all those dances, as well as the rumba and the fox-trot and the polka, too—people used to make admiring circles around her and Julian when they danced. It would be odd to dance with someone other than Julian, but Kitty couldn’t wait to get onto the floor. “War is
fun
!” Kitty had overheard a girl at the office say today, and she had been horrified. But maybe, in some respects, it was true.
    The band ended its rousing rendition of “Dipsy Doodle,” and the dancers whooped and whistled. The boys mopped their foreheads, and the girls fanned their faces. Then a petite, dark-haired woman was pulled onto the stage, and people began to clap and cheer. “Hey!” Louise said. “I know that woman! I went to school with her. That’s Dorothy Hermann!” She grabbed Kitty’s hand, and they pressed closer. Dorothy, a pretty brunette with a dazzling smile, began to sing, “There’ll be bluebirds over / The white cliffs of Dover / Tomorrow, just you wait and see,” and the room quieted. The woman’s voice was lovely, and the song, with its message of hopefulness for peace and for freedom, never failed to stir its listeners. Kitty felt a tapping on her shoulder. A man whom she’d noticed on walking in, a tall, handsome, serious-faced man who’d been standing alone, his hands in his pockets, was asking her to dance. Kitty nodded and stepped into his arms.
             
    “WILL YOU HURRY UP ? ” Kitty told Tish. “We’re going to miss the streetcar!”
    “I can’t,” Tish whined. “I’m telling you, my dogs are barking!”
    “Oh, stop,” Louise said. “You’ve gone to dances lots of times before. You must be used to this by now. You’re not even wearing very high heels!”
    “It’s not the shoes,” Tish said. “It’s that dead hoofer I got stuck with for the last two dances. He stepped all over my feet. And then he kept laughing. He didn’t even apologize.”
    “He was probably too embarrassed to know what