Catherine did most of the planning. She chose the dress, the jewelry, and the hair-do. She picked up the boutonniere and fussed over every tiny detail.
Emma just wanted it all to end so that she could get back to her real life. The one that was quiet and uneventful—except, of course, for the time she spent with an angel.
Prom night had arrived. Emma was not looking forward to what lay ahead. In fact, she felt a little sick.
She didn’t want to admit it and prove Micah right, but she had never been on a real date before. It had become apparent over the years that she wasn’t good at interacting with kids her age.
Why had she let Micah talk her into this? It was sure to be a total disaster.
“You look beautiful!” Catherine spoke from behind Emma who stood in front of a full length mirror, examining the person looking back at her with apprehension.
"You have to say that, you're my mom," Emma said, looking skeptical.
Her dress was straight out of Gone With The Wind, complete with hoop skirt and lace gloves; her mother’s idea of course. The swirling purple organdy gown with black lace was not going to let Emma fade into the background like she wished she could.
Against her mother’s prodding, she'd chosen shoes that were flat; Emma wasn’t going to compromise on that, she wasn’t good on heels. Her smooth brown hair was half up in pin curls held by a million bobby pins, with the remainder hanging down over her shoulders in wispy ringlets. She looked like the perfect southern belle, stepping out of an old movie.
“I guess there’s no way I could fake sudden illness and stay home is there?” Emma grumbled.
“Don’t even think about it young lady! Not after all of this work!” Catherine was aghast at the idea.
“Maybe you’ll get lucky and your date will realize what a giant dork you are, and won’t show.” Cody teased from the sofa where he sat, viewing the whole scene with apparent disgust.
“Cody! Mind your tongue!” Catherine scolded then turned back to Emma. She looked all proud like she was about to get mushy. Emma quickly walked over to the window, and pretended to wonder where her date was.
In reality, she would have liked it very much if he didn’t show up. All hope of that was quickly dashed though as she spotted an old gray Chevy step-side turning into the drive.
“Crap, he’s here,” suddenly Emma was a nervous wreck. Was she supposed to answer the door, or make an entrance once he was inside? The room started to get hot, and she thought she might faint.
The doorbell rang. Still undecided about which part she was supposed to play, Emma froze in the middle of the floor. Catherine quickly brushed past with a worried glance in her direction and opened the door.
Emma tried to compose her face as Destry stepped into the living room. She had to admit he looked amazing!
He was dressed in a black tuxedo top with tails and a white button up dress shirt underneath. His pants were black Wrangler jeans—they lived in “Hick-Ville” after all, so that was proper dress for any special occasion. He wore his black boots, and topped it off with a black cowboy hat. He looked as if he had stepped out of the same old movie she had.
Destry was staring at her like the whole world was gone and she was the only thing left in the universe. She felt uncomfortable under that stare, and cleared her throat, successfully bringing him out of his daze.
He smiled a crooked smile at her, and pulled a corsage out from behind his back, his hand shaking slightly.
Emma swallowed hard. Here we go, she thought to herself. She forced her feet to move forward so he could place the corsage on her wrist.
Emma smiled politely at him. “Thanks, it’s really pretty,” she managed to squeak out.
“You look very pretty too,” Destry responded quietly, avoiding her eyes.
“Oh, I almost forgot! I have your boutonniere in the kitchen,” Emma said nervously. She made a dash for the kitchen. Once out of view, she stood with her hands gripping the counter, trying to breathe.
Everything will be okay, she told herself over and over. This will all be just a memory in a few hours, there’s no need to freak out. Emma took one last deep breath. She grabbed his flower and headed back to the living room.
His face brightened noticeably as she reappeared. She timidly reached for his lapel and pinned the boutonniere into place. Emma thought she heard his breathing stop as she touched his jacket, and then resume again after she took a step back.
Unbelievably, this seemed to be as uncomfortable for him as it was for her; either that or she smelled bad. She took a quick whiff of the air around her, and decided he was just nervous. Emma knew she'd better get control of herself if they were going to make it through the night.
“I like your tux.” Emma said lightly, giving him a friendly smile.
“Thanks, I’m not used to dressing up. Sorry about the Wranglers, but the other pants felt weird.” Destry grimaced at some painful thought involving the tuxedo pants and fidgeted with his bow-tie, trying to loosen it.
“I think you look great!” Emma admitted.
He looked relieved this first awkward moment was over and stepped toward the door.
“Don’t move a muscle!” Catherine shouted, holding her hand up to stop him. She dashed into the kitchen and came back carrying her camera. Shoot, Emma had hoped they were going to get away without pictures. How embarrassing!
“Stand next to each other and smile,” Catherine prodded. Destry took a step back to Emma's side and put his arm loosely around her waist as if he wasn't sure he wanted to touch her.
This was awkward, Emma thought, being that they barely knew each other. This probably wouldn't be the last time this evening he would be touching her though, so she'd better get used to it.
Suddenly the flash was going off. Emma was blinded momentarily. When her sight came back, Destry was already over by the door again with one hand on the knob and the other held out to her.
“Shall we?” He grinned, but his voice seemed to shake.
“Yes, let’s go,” Emma said in quick agreement. She didn’t want to give her mom a chance to grab the video camera.
She walked quickly to the door. Her hoop skirt caught slightly as she stepped through, obviously doors weren’t quite as wide in this century. Emma didn’t stop and her dress popped through the door reluctantly after her.
When they reached his truck, Destry opened the passenger side door and offered her a hand up. Emma could see it wasn’t going to be easy to get into the truck without her dress ending up over her head, but she did it. He closed the door and jogged around to the driver’s side and climbed in. The engine roared to life, startling Emma a bit. He must need a new muffler. She’d never heard a truck that loud in her life.
Conversation was a bit strained, either because of the noise barrier or because neither one of them knew what to say. They drove in silence for most of the trip.
Emma's hands were clutched together on her lap in a death grip. She tried to smile and act casual as she stared straight ahead.
Chapter 9: PROM
Destry kept his eyes focused on the winding road. Every once in a while Emma thought she saw him glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. He seemed to have a pleased look on his face, although she couldn’t figure out why? She was relieved his truck was a stick shift because it prevented her from having to sit too close to him.
As the truck rounded the last curve on the mountain road, their destination came into sight. Prom was being held at a mountain lodge at the base of the Snowbasin Ski Resort. It was all lit up with tiny lights, and it looked beautiful against the dark pine forest and snow covered hills.
Destry pulled into a parking place not far from the entrance to the lodge. Emma was grateful for this, first because they wouldn’t have to walk far in the chilly mountain air, which was good because she hadn’t brought a jacket. And second, they were under the lights of the sidewalk leading up to the front doors. She still didn’t feel comfortable be
ing alone in the dark with this boy she hardly knew.
He was suddenly at her side of the truck again, opening the door for her. He held her hand as she stepped out, knowing she wasn’t exactly coordinated in her dress. At least she was wearing sensible shoes, she thought thankfully. When Emma's feet reached the ground, Destry released her hand quickly. I must be making him nervous, she assumed, so she tried her best to be friendlier.
“This place looks awesome!” she said with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. Destry grinned a huge grin and nodded in agreement. As he turned to look at her his grin faded.
“Let’s go inside. It’s kinda’ cold out here,” he said quickly. His voice was trembling. Emma didn't think it was from the cold.
Sudden worry began to wash over her. Was he just nervous or was he not sure he wanted to go inside? Was it because of her Gone with the Wind getup? Emma hoped she wasn’t an embarrassment to him. Maybe he was rethinking his decision to bring her. She had probably seemed like a safe option to him, but then, he hadn’t counted on her mother’s influence over her choice of evening wear.
Emma was considering giving him the option of calling it a night when he grabbed her hand softly and twined his fingers through hers. That was unexpected. She felt a tingling sensation shoot up her arm. It must be an after effect of the cold. Destry's hand was warm. To Emma's surprise, it felt good to have it wrapped around hers.
They made it inside in record time. Luckily, the entrance to the lodge was a pair of large double doors. Emma maneuvered her skirt through easily.
It was elegant inside with just the right amount of rustic charm. Large elk antler chandeliers hung from the vaulted tongue and groove ceiling. The massive log staircase at the opposite end of the room had a pine garland and tiny white lights wound through its delicate wrought iron railing.
Against one wall there was a large stone fireplace with a fire blazing in it. The burning logs made the whole room smell wonderful. The small, round tables that were scattered around the perimeter of the polished wooden dance floor were draped with white satin tablecloths. Rose petals and floating candles adorned their centers. It made Emma almost forget that she lived in the red-necked town of Eden. This felt like a whole other place. It was like a dream.
Destry led her to an empty table near the fireplace. He could probably feel how cold her hands were. He pulled out a chair for her and motioned for her to sit.
"Would you like me to get you some punch?" Destry was smiling.
“Not right now, thanks,” she said, crinkling up her nose. “Knowing me, I’d spill it all over the front of me before the first dance,” she admitted with a chuckle.
“That sounds like something I would do,” Destry chuckled back. “I guess we have another thing in common.”
“Another thing?” Emma said, with a questioning look. “What was the first thing?”
“Well,” he paused momentarily, “it’s obvious isn’t it, we both look stunning this evening! Don’t you think?” His smile touched his eyes making them light up.
“Well, you’re a little stuck up aren’t you?” Emma teased, thankful he'd loosened up a bit.
“No. I’m not stuck up, I’m just confident, that’s all. I know I have good taste. Are you disagreeing with me?” He raised one eyebrow, teasing her. “Am I to take it that you don’t think I’m stunning?”
Emma couldn't believe how much at ease he seemed with her after only thirty seconds of conversation. “No, I told you, I think you look great. Me, on the other hand, that’s another question. Would you go for the excuse, that my mom dresses me funny?” Emma's eyebrows furrowed together.
He laughed, and his eyes seemed to sparkle, probably a reflection from all of the twinkle lights. “You are the strangest girl I’ve ever met,” he said with a smile. “Don’t you look in the mirror like the rest of the female population? You look beautiful. Plus, we match. Haven’t you noticed that we are kind of going with the same theme here? I’m thinking Civil War era, how ‘bout you?"
“That’s exactly what I was going for,” Emma grinned, rolling her eyes, relieved at how easy he was to get along with. She felt a little flushed over the fact that Destry McQuade had just called her beautiful. “Have you been spying on me or something?”
“Nope. Great minds think alike.” He leaned close to her and gently tapped his finger on her forehead, then pulled his hand away quickly.
From this close proximity, Emma could see clearly into his friendly blue eyes. She had to admit they were breathtaking. He seemed like a genuinely happy and good person, not at all what she had taken him for these past few months.
His smile was slightly crooked as it stretched across his face. After closer examination, Emma could see what made it look crooked. One half of his bottom lip was slightly thinner than the other half. Emma was pleased to know that he wasn’t as perfect as he seemed. It made her feel a little less odd next to him.
She actually seemed to fit in for once in her life. Destry had said she was strange, but he had also said she was beautiful. Emma was definitely starting to like this boy. She could see them becoming friends. He was easy to be with. All of this was easier than she had imagined it would be.
The music began to play and the other couples rose, in unison it seemed, and made their way onto the dance floor. Destry looked toward them and then turned back to Emma.
“Do you dance?” He asked coyly, raising an eyebrow.
“Only when forced,” she scowled playfully.
“Personally, I’m against forcible dancing,” he grinned, “so what do I have to do to persuade you to dance with me?” He looked her straight in the eye, her knees started to shake.
Emma blushed and looked at the floor. He had a strange effect on her when he looked into her eyes that way. It felt like he could see all of her secrets.
“Come on now,” he nudged Emma gently, “there must be something that will convince you to dance with me. I’m not as scary as I look, I promise.” He reached his hand over and locked his fingers with hers again.
Emma felt a little queasy. This wasn’t like her. She was usually quick to get down to business when there was something ahead of her that had to be done. That was quite enough of her strange behavior for the evening. If she had to be here then she was going to have fun!
“Let’s dance,” she said.
The evening that Emma had been dreading for over a week seemed to fly by. To her utter amazement she found she was even enjoying herself.
Who would have thought that Emma Baker could pull off a date? She didn’t even have to try. It came easily with this kind, handsome, cheerful boy at her side.
They were getting along better than she could have ever imagined. She was having fun too. It no longer felt like she was there under obligation. Everything was going perfectly.
Destry and Emma danced and twirled and—believe it or not—laughed the night away. Emma even braved the refreshment table after dancing so long she would have taken any excuse to sit down and catch her breath.
As they neared the table though, Emma caught sight of Chuck standing near the punch bowl. Great, she thought sarcastically, we're up for some stimulating conversation now.
Chuck was dressed in a pin striped suit with long tails, and wore white shoes with black toes. He looked corny, Emma thought, but she'd never had a high opinion of his taste so she didn't expect anything less from him.
Destry slapped Chuck on the shoulder, "Hey man, how's it goin'?"
Chuck smiled at Destry, then noticed Emma standing beside him and let out a snicker.
Emma raised an eyebrow at him.
"It's goin'. How 'bout with you?" Chuck said as he continued to look Emma up and down.
"Where's your date?" Destry asked as he stepped in front of Emma, pulling her behind him and holding her hand tightly. He'd obviously noticed the way Chuck was appraising her and didn't like it.
"She's around here somewhere," Chuck said, glancing around the room with a bored look.
&n
bsp; "Maybe you'd better go look for her," Destry said with an air of authority, "she'd probably like to dance, since this is prom and all."
"Yeah," Chuck said, eyeing Destry defensively, "I guess I will." He shot Emma an evil glare, winked at her, and then strode off through the crowd.
"What was that all about?" Emma mumbled.
"I think he's been drinking," Destry said with disgust. "He smelled like it."
"Oh," was all Emma could say. She hadn't been around drinking, or drunk people much. Alcohol had never appealed to her. She couldn't even take cough medicine when she was sick without it giving her weird hallucinations.
"How about we skip the punch and go for the bottled water instead?" Destry suggested. "You never know, someone could have spiked it." He glanced in Chuck's direction as he said it.
"Sounds good to me," Emma agreed quickly.
She was impressed. Destry obviously wasn't into drinking, and he had protected her from Chucks repulsive ogling. He really was a good guy.
After they had a bowl of fruit and a piece of cake, Destry got up from the table and offered Emma his hand. She took it and he steered her over toward the fireplace. They stood in front of it, letting the warmth wash over them.
Emma finally had to ask. "So why do you hang out with Chuck anyway? I mean, he doesn't seem to be anything like you and he's kind of thick in the head."
"He's my friend," Destry countered, shrugging.
"I guess," Emma sighed "but he's still thick in the head," she looked at Destry and smirked.
Before Destry could form a comeback, a voice came over the loud speaker announcing that it was time to name the prom King and Queen. Marci Johnston's name was called as prom Queen and Emma smiled and applauded with the rest of the student body.
Marci smiled and waved to Destry on her way up to the stage, while merely raising a speculative eyebrow at Emma. Destry didn't return Marci's wave and rolled his eyes at her brazenness which pleased Emma.
It was a surprise when they announced the last dance. Wow! That wasn’t hard at all, Emma thought to herself. She’d done it. She’d made it through the whole night without doing anything embarrassing, and she hadn’t even thought about Micah once.
Eternal (Eternal series) Page 8