Someday Is Here

Chapter One

The blue velvet curtain billowing in an unseen wind revealed the man she hardly dared think of, though no matter how many times she saw him, she could never describe him to anyone. But she knew him…loved him…longed for him to take her in his arms as the music swelled beyond the velvet portiere. His fingers on her cheek electrified her. Then he smoothed her hair away from her face, and let his hand skim her shoulder and drift down her arm until he enveloped her hand in his. Leaning toward her, he brushed her lips, then her throat. An unbearable ache possessed her body. Smiling in silent invitation, he stepped away from her, moving inexorably toward the shimmering midnight blue drape until it parted. Though he stood there waiting, his hand extended, beckoning her beyond the confines of her sheltered life, she couldn’t move, couldn’t even lift her arm. His smile faded, and the curtain billowed outward, this time with the roar of the ocean, and swept him away before falling limp and still. She thought she heard him calling her, but her lips wouldn’t part in response. When she woke, her pillow was wet with tears.

****

          “Come on, Cece, it’s the weekend. Put away that dreary paper bag and come with us to Concho Drug for lunch.” Celeste shook her head, wishing her straight shoulder-length hair, the color of her paper lunch sack, didn’t fall over her face every time she moved, and continued to spread her lunch on the desk.

 “Thanks, Marilyn, but I’m going to eat here. Saves money.”

“Isn’t that what we work for? Money to do something fun with?”

“Sure, I guess, but I’ve got a Christmas layaway at Cox-Rushing-Greer, and I need every penny.”

          “Then be that way. I’ll think of you and that boring apple when I’m eating my yummy grilled cheese.” With a toss of her head and a friendly wink, the other girl swept out of the upstairs office at Woolworth.

         Celeste’s mouth twisted with regret as she refastened the tortoiseshell barrette that was supposed to keep her shiny hair in place. It might have been nice to go out to lunch with Marilyn and the others for a change, but it was already the end of October, and she’d told the truth—she needed every penny to pay for the Christmas presents she’d bought for her sister Coralee, her brother-in-law Ben, and her three-year-old niece Barbara.

  She needed some things, too, like dresses for work and a new pair of shoes. So far she’d gotten by with her high school and junior college wardrobe, but it made her appear school-girlish. Being upstairs in the office kept her out of the public eye, and her boss, Mr. Thomas, didn’t seem to care what she looked like as long as she did her job. He wouldn’t, either. He liked her and said she was the best assistant bookkeeper he’d had in years, since his wife retired to stay home with their three daughters.

          Celeste bit into her apple and leaned back in the padded chair Mr. Thomas had scraped up for her. The work wasn’t hard. She was good with numbers and liked seeing them balance out. Working up here instead of down on the floor had a lot of advantages, not to mention a fatter paycheck. She got off at four every afternoon and at noon on Saturdays. Today, Friday, she’d done the payroll first thing this morning. With luck, there would be just enough time after work to deposit her check and walk down to the department store to make a payment before she met her father at the bank for her ride home.

           She thought, without enthusiasm, of the weekend ahead. Her father would start drinking as soon as they got home. She didn’t cook much on weekends because he didn’t eat, just holed up on the back porch or in his bedroom with a bottle. It had been that way for as long as she could remember, or, at least, since her mother died when she was five.

           Fourteen years. Had it been so long? Though she kept a framed picture of Anne Riley on her dressing table, it was becoming harder and harder to remember the woman she called Mamma. Her older sister Coralee had more memories because she’d been twelve. Though she answered Celeste’s questions readily enough, lately Celeste had the feeling there were things Coralee left out.

           Sometimes, if she thought about it hard enough, Celeste could pull up vague memories of special occasions like Christmas, when she’d snuggled in her father’s lap on Christmas Eve to hear him read The Night Before Christmas. The year her mother died, they hadn’t even had a tree. In succeeding years, Coralee managed to scrounge a tree and presents, but their father never acknowledged the holiday except with more liquid “holiday cheer.”

           Too soon, Coralee finished high school and married Ben, who took her to live on his family’s ranch in Sterling City. When Ben’s parents, Big Ben and Pearl, offered to take Celeste to the ranch, too, her father smashed a vase and a couple of her mother’s leprechaun figurines, and yelled, “Hell, no!” before Coralee hustled Celeste off to her room and closed the door.

 “Why won’t he let me go, Sister? He never pays any attention to me anyway. It’s like I’m not even here.”

“We’ll work it out, sweetie, I promise.” Coralee wrapped Celeste in her arms and stroked her hair.

          They hadn’t worked it out, but Coralee got the last word anyway. She told August Riley she didn’t want him to even come to the wedding, much less walk her down the aisle, and he hadn’t. Celeste always thought there was more to that decision than the fact he wouldn’t let her go to the ranch, but Coralee put her off every time she brought it up.

Celeste shook her head. No use thinking about all that now. She’d been lucky, getting a scholarship to the junior college and being able to work her classes around her job in the notions department at Woolworth. Then, when she finished last spring, Mr. Thomas hired her for the office at a nice increase in salary. Soon afterward, her nights became filled with blue velvet and tears.

Celeste leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Will it be like this forever? Going to work, going home…going nowhere?

“Not going out with the others, Miss Riley?”

Celeste startled. “Oh, no, sir, I have my lunch here, Mr. Thomas.”

“Seems to me a young girl like you would want to go out and have some fun.”

“I go with them sometimes.”

“You should go more often.”

“Maybe.”

“Is it the money? Do you need more?”

“No, sir, I get along fine. It’s just that Christmas is coming, and I’ve got to think ahead.”

“Most girls your age wouldn’t.”

Celeste smiled and shrugged.

“But, of course, your daddy’s a banker. I guess he taught you how to handle money.”

         “Yes, sir.” It was a lie. Daddy never taught her anything, and he never paid for anything either except the household expenses. Even then, he went over the grocery bill with a fine-tooth comb and made her justify every purchase, as well as kick in five dollars a week for her board. Sometimes Celeste wondered if he knew how carefully she planned meals and shopped. Or how she managed to put clothes on her own back, since he never contributed a penny in that direction.

By the time she was twelve, Celeste was earning her own money by babysitting and cleaning house for a couple of neighbor women who seemed to know she needed the work. Shortly after beginning high school, she’d gotten the job at Woolworth.

“Well, enjoy your lunch. I’m going to run home for a few minutes. I guess you’ve already done the payroll.”

“Yes, sir. The checks are ready for you to look over and sign.”

“Good girl. I’ll take care of them as soon as I get back.”

Celeste watched him leave, then curled up in a tight ball in her chair and closed her eyes. Everyoneb thought the banker’s daughter lived such a charmed life. She had decent clothes only because she worked to earn the money for them and because Coralee came to San Angelo several times a year and took her shopping. Celeste always protested that Coralee shouldn’t buy her so much, but Coralee always came back\ with, “Ben’s father pays me a salary for keeping his ranch accounts, and I can do what I want to with the money. Ben says I couldn’t spend it any better than on you. I want you to have nice things like your friends.”

        Her father never seemed to know or care how she managed to dress properly or afford things like a class ring or a yearbook or a dress for the senior prom. Actually, she and Coralee made her dress with help from Pearl. Her date, Pete Frame, said she was the prettiest girl there.

       She opened her eyes and bit into her apple again, then rose, stretched, and wandered to the window overlooking Chadbourne Street, listening to the silence and regretting just a little that she wasn’t sitting in a booth at Concho Drug with Marilyn and the others, eating grilled cheese sandwiches and enjoying a chocolate milkshake.

        Balancing the apple on the wide sill, she pushed up the window and leaned out. Too late, she grabbed for the half-eaten fruit now spiraling toward the sidewalk below—and the head of an unfortunate passerby. Celeste’s hand flew to her mouth as the startled young man stopped and looked up. Retrieving the apple from the sidewalk, he held it up with a question in his eyes, eyes that were laughing at her. She felt her face grow hot and ducked back inside, still seeing the amusement in the man’s hazel eyes. Dumb, Celeste! He couldn’t be hurt, not by a little apple, but he could come inside and complain. Mr. Thomas will probably think it’s funny, but…

         Returning to her desk, she pulled a shortbread cookie out of her bag and unfastened the waxed paper. She really should have gone to lunch with Marilyn and the others. But this was good enough, and she had the layaway to consider, after all.

****

         She loved the lobby of the bank in the next block. It was like a palace, she imagined, as she ran her hand along the cool, satiny marble of the balustrade before she went to one of the windows. Her father, one of the bank officers, had his own work space upstairs, so she never saw him, which was all right. All the tellers knew her, though, and greeted her like she belonged to them. She stood in line, soaking up the majestic beauty of the lobby, until it was her turn, then handed her check and deposit slip through the window.

“Hi, Celeste, how are you?” Mrs. Banner smiled. “How was your week?”

“Fine, thank you, Mrs. Banner. I had a good week.”

“You want ten dollars back, right?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Hot date tonight?”

Celeste felt her face grow warm, thinking of how her dream lover would most certainly step from

behind the blue velvet curtain as soon as she fell asleep. “No, ma’am, unless you count the library book I got yesterday.”

“You should get out more, Celeste. A pretty girl like you should be out on the town on Friday night.”

“Well, sometimes I go to the movies with a friend.”

“But not a boyfriend. What happened to that boy you used to date in high school?”

“He’s at the University.”

“I remember now. Football player, wasn’t he?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Don’t you miss having your boyfriend around?”

“We were just good friends. I’m glad he had the chance for college.”

          The woman looked like she didn’t believe Celeste. “Well, here’s your receipt and your money. I’ll see you next Friday, I guess.”

“Yes, ma’am, thank you.” Celeste turned right outside the door and walked the few steps to Cox-Rushing-Greer. It was her favorite department store, even though Hemphill-Wells had a bargain basement better suited to her budget. She had her hand on the door when the dress in the window display caught her eye. She froze, eyes riveted on the mannequin wearing the blue dress, blue velvet the color of a starlit midnight sky…the color of the curtain in her dreams. She twisted her head to see a price tag, but it was hidden. Touching the glass with one finger, she almost ached to feel the skirt that fell from a nipped-in waist and swirled at the hem.

          “It’s new,” said the saleswoman when Celeste finally exhaled and walked through the door. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“It’s the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen.”

“We only got four of them. What size do you wear?”

“Ten, but I couldn’t afford it.”

“Are you sure?”

Celeste laughed. “I’m real sure.”

         “You ought to try it on anyway. You’d be a knockout in it, with that peachy complexion and shiny hair.”

“No, ma’am, I just came in to pay on my layaway, but thank you.”

         Celeste took the elevator upstairs and made her payment, gratified that the receipt showed she had only fifteen dollars more to pay before she could take home the carefully-selected gifts and wrap them for Christmas. On top of that, she’d have two nice new dresses and a pair of pumps to change her image from schoolgirl to career woman.

          In the empty elevator on the way down, she laughed at herself. Career woman. She didn’t mind working, but she wanted a home and family like Coralee. Someday she wanted them. She’d taken the business classes in high school and college because she needed them to survive, but she’d always known she didn’t want to juggle ledgers for the rest of her life.

The saleswoman who emerged from behind the counter as Celeste stepped off the elevator reminded her of a spider waiting for its prey. “Are you sure you don’t want to try it on? There’s plenty of time before closing.”

          Celeste hesitated. Would it hurt to try it on? It wasn’t exactly honest, since she couldn’t afford it, but…her hands tingled at the thought of touching the alluring material.

“I wouldn’t have anywhere to wear it,” she said.

“A pretty girl like you?”

“I don’t go out much. It’s for a formal party or a dance.”

“You don’t go dancing at the St. Angelus Roof Garden?”

Celeste shook her head.

         “You should. I can see you in that dress now, dancing to the music with all those lights sparkling around you.”

Celeste’s heart sped up. “I couldn’t afford it anyway.”

         “Try it on, honey. You know you love it. I’ve already put a size ten in the dressing room over there.”

Celeste looked at the price tag before she slipped the dress over her head. Forty-nine-fifty—a fortune! She’d never spent so much on anything for herself before and never would. Even if she paid it out, a few dollars a week, she couldn’t have it before spring, and by then velvet would be out of season.

         The dress molded to her lithe, slender frame as if it had been custom-fitted. She risked a glance in the mirror and gasped. Who was this fairy princess looking back at her? She smoothed her hair, which looked golden in the lights. Coralee said it was their mother’s hair. Then she touched the skin of her throat, white above the gently scooped neckline of dark fabric. Her arms floated in the full sleeves ending in tight cuffs at the wrist.

“Come out and let me see you,” called the saleswoman.

Celeste stepped from behind the curtain. “It doesn’t look so good with my saddle shoes, does it?”

“It was made for you.”

“It’s a little long.”

“We do alterations.”

“It’s almost fifty dollars.”

“There’s layaway.”

“But I already have some things there.”

          “Turn around.” The saleswoman checked the waist, which hugged Celeste with only enough room left for comfort. She lifted the hair that fell just to Celeste’s shoulders and pulled it to one side. “A rhinestone clip,” she said. “Right here, and one for the dress. No necklace.”

“I can’t spend fifty dollars I don’t have on a dress I don’t have anyplace to wear.”

          “There’s the Roof Garden, honey. You might meet the man of your dreams.” She narrowed her eyes in a knowing way. “You just might.”

The man of my dreams. Does he even exist in real life? If he does, then where is he, and when will Imeet him? Certainly not dropping apples on his head. She giggled at the memory.

“I can’t,” Celeste said, averting her eyes from the mirror so she wouldn’t be tempted further. “I just can’t.”

          She left the dress hanging in the fitting room and walked out of the store, calling a polite, “Thank you,” over her shoulder. She didn’t dare look back or even glance in the window at the mannequin.

****

        Her father, tall and square-shouldered like Coralee, paced the lot behind the bank where he parked his ’38 Packard. Coralee had thrown a fit when he bought it new right after refusing to pay for Celeste to go to junior college that year. “Where’ve you been?”

“I went to pay on my layaway at Cox-Rushing- Greer,” Celeste said, sliding into the passenger seat.

Her father grunted and pulled out his keys. “Got groceries for the weekend?”

“Yes, sir.” I don’t know why you even ask. You don’t eat anyway, just drink.

He grunted again. They drove home in silence.

****

         Celeste made herself a grilled cheese sandwich for supper and offered one to her father who, as expected, declined. He was already slightly drunk, making her wonder—not for the first time—if he kept a bottle in his desk at the bank. Taking her supper into her bedroom, she curled into the deep pink-tufted chair with her library book and put her father out of her mind.

****

        Later, after rinsing her dishes and putting them aside to drain, she stepped out onto the back porch after first checking to be sure that her father wasn’t there. It was dark, but there was what everyone called a harvest moon already beginning to rise. “Shine on, shine on harvest moon...” The words slipped unbidden from her lips. She’d sung that song with her friends around more than one campfire. Sometimes Pete had harmonized, barbershop style. He had a nice voice to go with his handsome face.

        She shook her head. Why was she thinking about Pete? She wasn’t in love with him, never had been, never would be. They’d been good companions, but it ended there. Pete liked team sports, hunting, and fishing, all of which bored her, just like her talk of books and music bored him.

“We’re an odd pair,” he said once. “Salt and pepper.”

“Well, a meal needs both to be seasoned just right,” she replied.

“But you don’t mix them in the shaker.”

“No,” she agreed, “you don’t mix them in the shaker or you make a mess.”

As she stepped back inside, she thought of calling Coralee, but before she could pick up the

phone, it rang. “Hi there, little sister.”

“Hi, Coralee. I was just thinking about you.”

“How was your week?”

“It was good.” I dropped an apple on a man’s head, but at least he didn’t come after me.

“Going out this weekend?”

“No, I don’t guess so.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“My laundry, I guess.”

“You ought to do more than that on a gorgeous fall weekend.”

          “Well, I’ve got a new library book. I might take it to the park tomorrow after work. It’s still warm enough.”

Coralee sighed. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with you.”

“I’m all right, Sister.”

“Is he...”

“In his room.”

“Cece, you need to get out of there. Find yourself a place somewhere, and a roommate. I’ll help you with money if you need it.”

“Oh, Sister, I can’t do that.”

 “Why not?”

“What would Daddy do?”

“Hire a housekeeper, that’s what. He can afford it.”

          “He wouldn’t like it if I left.” He probably wouldn’t even notice I was gone, but where would I go? And what would it be like not to have my pretty pink room to come home to?

“I guess not. You’re free labor. Sweetie, he’s not going to change. If you’re hanging around waiting for that to happen, you’re out of luck.”

“I’m not…”

“Oh, all right. So tell me something exciting that happened this week.”

“This is long distance, Coralee.”

“Ben doesn’t care.”

“Well, I went to work, and this afternoon after I got paid, I deposited my check and went to pay on my layaway. Wait ’til you see what I got Barbara for Christmas.”

         “You shouldn’t spend your money on her. She gets more than is good for her just from her grandparents here.”

“Who else would I spend it on?”

“Yourself, for one.”

“I tried on a dress.”

“What kind of dress?”

          “Oh, Coralee, it was so beautiful! It was blue velvet, but it was for a party or a dance. I couldn’t wear it to the places I go.”

“Not to church?”

“It’s way too fancy for that.”

“But you liked it.”

“The saleswoman said it was made for me. It’s a little long. Most things are long on me. I’m too short, but I guess I’m through growing, huh?”

“You’re just right. Tell me more about the dress.”

 “The saleslady had the idea I could wear it to go dancing at the Roof Garden.”

“You should.”

“I couldn’t. I mean, how would it look for me to go up there alone?”

          “You wouldn’t need a date. I used to go with some of my friends when I was in high school. Don’t you remember? I’d go on the weekends when Ben went home to see his parents. Get one of your friends from work to go with you. It might be fun.”

“Coralee, I just couldn’t. I’d be embarrassed.”

“How much does the dress cost?”

Too much.”

“How much?”

“I’m not going to tell you, because I’m not going to buy it.”

“Oh, Celeste, we’ve got to get you out of your rut.”

“I’m fine, Sister. Kiss Barbara for me, okay?”

“I will. Love you.”

“Love you, too. Bye.”

Celeste stood in the hall savoring the warmth of her sister’s voice. Without a doubt, Coralee was the best sister in the world. For awhile, after she first married, she’d bought Celeste a bus ticket to come to Sterling City every weekend. The visits tapered off when Celeste started high school and got involved in other activities, but holidays still meant the ranch and Coralee, Ben, and Barbara, Big Ben and Pearl.

****

         A vision of the blue velvet dress swayed provocatively in front of her eyes as she bathed and then got into bed. She almost wished she hadn’t seen it, but it was so lovely…so very beautiful…and she’d looked gorgeous in it. Gorgeous beyond belief. Celeste felt herself blushing. She wasn’t beautiful at all, but the dress…the dress was miraculous.

****

       The young man came across the dance floor holding out his hand, but she couldn’t quite see his face. “May I have this dance?” He moved with the grace of a willow tree blowing in the breeze, holding her at arms’ length as they danced and yet with an intimacy that both thrilled and frightened her. “You look like a princess,” he said.

“I am a princess in my blue velvet dress. I am a queen.”

“And I am a prince. I’ll take you away with me.”

“Are you really a prince?”

“I really am.”

“Then at midnight I’ll have to go, or everything

will turn back the way it was.”

“Not if you go with me.”

“If I go with you?”

“Don’t you want to?”

“Yes, I want to. I want very much to go.”

          He took her arm and led her toward an alcove hung with blue velvet like her dress. “If we go through that door, you’ll be safe.” He didn’t say safe from what. Somewhere a clock began to strike the hour. “Hurry.” Her feet, heavy like lead, refused to move. “Hurry,” he said again.

        She tried to move and couldn’t. When the last chime sounded, she stood alone, the blue velvet curtains billowing in front of her. And when she looked down, she was wearing her grey wool skirt and matching sweater, with her saddle shoes. “My dress!” she called out, her voice echoing eerily in the fading light. “My blue velvet dress!”