Go on an adventure today. Write Hopey.
The reminder notes that Emily Gilmore had written to herself before bed the previous night were simple. Go on an adventure. The second part was to write her sister Hope, which she would do eventually. Hopey was a senior in high school, and Emily did miss her dearly. She'd been meaning to drop a letter in the mail, but her life seemed much less exciting written down in words.
Friday nights at Smith College were often filled with sleepovers, trips to the theater, dreaded meals with the girls and mother of the house, and chapel. A mixer might be planned at one of the local bars or hotels with either Dartmouth or Yale, but those were far from her idea of an adventure. Who wanted a forced meeting overwatched by the college? Some girls might have their boyfriends visit them. But Emily wanted more excitement. She wanted to dance, let loose, and maybe kiss a boy or two. Whatever would be in the cards, she hoped it would be enchanting.
"Carollllll," Emily crooned, attempting to get the attention of her roommate.
"Yeah, Em?" Carol responded questioningly. Seeing her friend in the vanity mirror, Emily turned to face her. A mischievous smile danced on her lips as she began to speak. "You know how you always say you want a boyfriend? I've got an idea. Put down that Mockingbird book you've been obsessing over. I think we should go to Yale. Find a party. The rest of the story will write itself."
"Emily you're crazy!" Carol shrieked. The book in her hands hit her lap at the shock of the words she was hearing. Emily suggesting a party? Emily was usually prim and proper. She never would miss curfew, always finished her homework for studies the day they were given, and refused to dress in anything other than a skirt and pearls. Carol herself was the friend that would rather get a pizza and share gossip of the week, but the look on Emily's face was one that said she was determined to get out of the college house.
"Come on Carol Anne Miller. I'll buy you a pizza tomorrow. You don't want to wake up one day as an old maid wishing you'd have come along."
—-—
The night air wrapped Emily's shoulders in a chill. The dress that Carol had lent her was nothing like the clothes she normally would wear, and the brisk air was sneaking through the lacy fabric. It was a black number, with lace sleeves and lace details on the sides. The dress didn't leave much to the imagination and was Emily's first step in making sure her night ended in enchanting adventure. Of course, she still wore her pearls around her neck.
"Here's the plan, Emmy. We are going to the party Pennilyn Lott was going on about in the cafeteria yesterday. It's a weekend, so plenty of girls will be there, but the Yale boys will also be in attendance. If we get separated, we will meet back here at this bench by ten so we make curfew at the house." Carol rattled off her plan, seeing as she was much more accustomed to these kinds of parties than Emily.
"Okay, Care," she nodded, letting her friend know she understood. From where they stood, she could hear music and see people milling about. Although the air was still chilling, a warmth of excitement spread through her body.
—
Sipping on a glass of punch that she had accepted from a nice looking gentleman, Emily surveyed the crowd. Across the room she spotted Pennilyn, the perky blonde that she had despised since her first year at Smith. Sure Pennilyn was nice enough. She was smart too. But there was something about the way professors always treated her like she was the golden child and the way boys swooned at her feet that made Emily want to vomit. Sure enough, a tall and handsome male was by Pennilyn's side. Emily could picture herself marching over to him, taking him by the collar, and kissing him just to shock her enemy. She'd then lead the boy away. But no, that wasn't in her nature, and she wasn't even sure why such things were running through her mind. Maybe it was jealousy or maybe it was the fact that she felt the boy was looking at her across the way, but she waved the thought from her mind.
"As I was saying, we can sneak off to my room if you'd like." The boy whose name she hadn't bothered to remember spoke, willing her attention back to him.
"In your dreams," Emily scoffed, walking away from him. A random hookup with a gentleman she felt no attraction to wasn't the adventure she was after.
Giving up on finding any kind of decent excitement, she leaned against the wall of the room hugging her arms around herself. From her resting place, she could see others dancing and could hear laughter. That kind of freedom just didn't seem to be in the cards for her.
"Everything ok, Miss?" the voice sent chills down her spine. Every nerve in her body felt electrified at once. Her gaze drifted up, away from the crowd to find the mesmerizing eyes of a man that made her want to melt right there into the marbled floor.
"I'm - I'm alright, now," she nearly whispered , struggling to form a coherent thought in his presence. It wasn't like Emily to be at a loss for words. Her vocabulary was far superior to her peers, so she surprised herself when all she could do was stare at this gentleman.
"You seem cold. Would you like my jacket?" The male's eyes scanned her body, stopping for a moment on her bosom before finally making his way back up to her face. "I'd be honored to lend you it."
In an instant, Emily remembered where she'd first spotted him, not too long ago. "Shouldn't you be offering the jacket to Pennilyn? I'm sure she wouldn't like seeing it on me."
"Lynnie has a coat of her own if she gets cold. Plus, she already left for the evening. If it helps make you more comfortable , I'm Richard Gilmore. Please take my jacket."
Before she could deny him, Richard had already removed his coat. As she slipped her arms into the warm sleeves, she finally took in his full appearance. He was tall, handsome, and the type of guy she could only dream to spend an evening with.
"Would you care to dance?" he asked as she swayed slowly to the rhythm of the song that was playing. Half of her wanted to deny his offer. He was clearly dating the girl she couldn't stand. The other half of her didn't want to miss a chance with the man who made her feel like a live wire. "Won't the others talk?" She retorted, a smile playing on her lips.
"Let them," was the answer she heard as his hand reached out to her. If she took it, she knew this would be the adventure she had been yearning for. Without letting her mind talk her out of it, she placed her hand in his. His rough skin was the perfect companion to her softness. Richard led her to the center of the party where the crowd was dancing the night away to a tune by Elvis. Wearing his suit jacket sent a message that he had claimed her. At least that's how she envisioned she would look to others as they grooved to the music.
A slower song poured from the speakers. Other couples were beginning to embrace one another. For a moment the two were frozen in time. Should they continue dancing or was this the moment they parted? The questions were running at hyper speed through Emily's mind. Slow dance with someone she just met? Someone who was in a relationship? Hopey would be squealing if she ever found out.
"And then it happened. It took me by surprise. I knew that you felt it too by the look in your eyes…" Emily's train of thought was broken as she realized this man who had captivated her was now moving closer to her, and he was singing along with the lyrics of the song that was playing. Against her better judgement, she helped close the distance between them by placing her hand in his and her other on his shoulder. Looking up into his eyes, she moved with him to the beat of the music. She'd have to remember to look for The Drifters record next time she went shopping.
Richard's free hand slid down the length of Emily's back, resting just above her derrière. The last man who had held her so close had broken her heart. This man, she feared would do the same, but tonight she felt different. She felt free. And that was enough to allow her to enjoy his embrace.
She let out the breath she didn't realize she had been holding as she leaned into him. Her cheek rested against the soft cotton of his shirt. He smelled like cigars and a hint of leather. Her hand had moved down from his shoulder to his side. Richard's hand moved further south, sliding over her backside. Just as the song came to an end, Emily tried to take a step back, but he held her close. "Richard…" she breathed out his name, loving the way it sounded coming from her mouth. "I'm afraid I need to cut our time short."
Rather than breaking the embrace, he released her hand that he had been holding and moved his beneath her chin, tilting her face up to look at him. "I've really enjoyed this," he began speaking. "I can't remember the last time I found dancing or even a party to be enjoyable." He smiled briefly before his face became more serious once again. "The only problem is that I never got your name."
Emily's cheeks blushed at his remarks. Suddenly she felt as though she was burning up. How could she have forgotten to introduce herself? "I'm Emily. Emily Reid," she rambled. "I've had an enchanting time myself…." Her words were interrupted by the lips that suddenly were pressed to her own. It took her a second to realize he was kissing her. Her lips parted ever so slightly and his hand brushed along her cheek. He tasted like the cigars she had smelled. The kiss was quick, but it was enough to buckle her knees and leave her feeling woozy.
"Well Emily, I'm glad our paths crossed. I'll be seeing you. Keep my jacket until then," Richard said as he let her go. His hand brushed along her arm before he turned to leave. As quickly as she had felt flames in her cheeks, she felt cold again. And she feared she'd feel cold until she saw him once more.
—
"Dear God, Em! I was beginning to think you'd shacked up with some fellow from the party. Not that I'd be judging," Carol nearly shrieked as Emily rounded the corner of the alley back to the bench where they'd agreed to meet. "But you've got to tell me. Where did you get that nice coat from?"
Emily wanted to keep her night to herself, at least for now. She wanted this memory, this magic night, to be just hers for now. "Oh just some guy that saw me shivering half to death. I didn't even catch his name," she lied to her friend.
"What a drag. Sorry you didn't have your little adventure you wanted, but let me tell you about my night! You'll never believe it," Carol chirped.
Emily listened to her friend's story about hanging with some folks she had met at the party. About sneaking away to smoke and drink. About the girl who had puked before she finally told them she had to go. Plenty of details that Emily could believe. All the time while Carol talked, Emily's mind was on one thing. Rather on one person, and his name was Richard Gilmore.