She turned. He had her glove in hand, and was just swallowing a big bite of hamburger. Then he smiled that magnanimous smile. He had a tiny smear of mustard at the corner of his mouth. “Think you dropped this,” he said, holding the glove out to her.

“Oh, thank you so much,” she said, a little breathless despite herself, stepping forward to take it from him. She wished she could say something else, but he was already turning away, so she turned away, too, not wanting to make a fool of herself.

Still, as she and Jane exited Bridgeman’s into the starry night, she was pleased, and told Jane, “Did you see the way he looked right in my eyes? I always knew he’d be the nicest boy in the world!” She smelled her glove, and was thrilled to think it smelled of onion from his hands.

“Of course,” Jane said.

Disappointingly, when questioned after their wedding, Byron didn’t recall the incident at Bridgeman’s, not even the glance they had shared that Dolly regarded as having moved the earth. Because, after that, there was no way she would even consider dating any other boy.

Her pursuit of Byron was subtle but plotted, involving numerous small sabotages to her father’s brand-new 1946 Chrysler, which had just been purchased from Mike Sullivan’s dealership. Mike Sullivan was Byron’s stepfather, and it wasn’t long before Dolly discovered that Byron was working there selling cars.

“I’ll take the car down to have it looked at, Dad, I don’t mind,” Dolly would tell her father, that spring of 1946, having loosened this or punctured that the night before.

Her father would shake his head. “Just can’t understand how in the world so much can go wrong on a new car.”

“I don’t know, Dad,” Dolly would chirp, running off to fix her hair. Of course, she always waited at the dealership while the repairs were being made. At first, Byron would merely acknowledge her presence with a nod and, later, that cute smile, but toward April, he sat down and talked with her.

“You’re here just about every Saturday,” he observed. He looked younger again than he had when he’d just returned from the war, and handsome in his salesman’s outfit of white shirt, black pants and necktie. Dolly supposed that soon he would be taking over the management of the dealership.

“Oh, my father’s had awful trouble with his car,” she said.