“Probably,” she said. “But I like hearing it all again.” She was hanging on my every word.

I continued to describe the gala and Garland, even after we were on our cycles and pedaling through the streets, making sure to go by Emma’s house. When we parted at the corner that veered off right to her house, I promised to keep her up to date on anything that occurred between me and Garland Foxworth. She rode off thinking she had been admitted to the most secret romance of the age.

My father arrived shortly after I had returned. He received all our mail at the bank and brought home anything personal. I wasn’t anticipating anything yet, but to my happy surprise, Garland’s reply to my letter came faster in the mail than Great-aunt Nettie’s response. Anticipating my mother’s horrified reaction to my starting a relationship with a man in his mid-twenties, a man I had met only at a gala and a man who had not been formally introduced to her, my father smiled and winked like a fellow conspirator when he handed Garland’s letter to me. I hurried away to read it privately.

At first, I thought Garland might have just decided to write a letter hoping I would see him again. Maybe he had written it immediately after the Wexler gala, even on his way home. That was an exciting thought, but when I opened the envelope, I saw this was not a letter full of compliments and eagerness for us to meet again soon. It was so disappointingly short and curt I almost crumpled it up and threw it away. I wanted to have something I could read repeatedly, perhaps memorize, or at least receive something from him that was filled with flowery, emotional comments suggesting his hope for a longer relationship. I even was considering letting Daisy read it.

I had received notes from boys who had crushes on me, but this was really going to be my first love letter. At least, that was what I had dreamed I would receive.

Instead, his first letter was scratched quickly on the back of some billing form, looking like it was done as an afterthought. Why would I ever show this to Daisy or press this into my book of memories?

Dear Miss Dixon,

Do let me know your arrival date whenever it is determined. Maybe I’ll continue teaching you the waltz.

Garland Foxworth