Page 96 of Meet Me on Greenwood

"Dance with me?" I asked, extending my hand.

She looked around. "There isn’t any music."

"I can fix that," Paul said, rifling through boxes until he pulled out a record.

"See, Paul has us covered," I said, as the record began to play the St. Louis Blues. I pulled her out of her seat and into my arms.

"We have to get you ready for the ball this weekend."

She shook her head. "I’m not going to that."

I twirled her around the room. "And why not?" When she hesitated, I added, "Tell me ’what's really bothering you, if you’re regretting anything—"

"No," she said. "I just worry… Do you think Lettie disapproves?"

I felt more relieved than I cared to admit. "Is that who you are afraid of, Lettie? She is happy for us, I can promise you that. She is just—"

"Scared," she finished. "This is dangerous for you."

I gave her a sobering look. "I will be just fine. You’re the one I worry about."

She averted her gaze.

"Look at me, Gema."

I cupped her chin gently until her eyes were back on mine. "This isn’t a fleeting affair to me. Maybe we should have waited to do things properly, but I’m in this with you. Don’t push me away."

"You don’t understand."

"I do." I took a deep breath. "Will you attend the Cosmopolitan Ball with me?"

Her eyes widened. "You can’t."

"I’m a man in love. I can do anything."

She froze, motionless in my arms, her lips parted in shock.

"I didn’t mean to scare you, or put pressure on you." My tongue felt like lead as I tried to form a coherent sentence. "I also won’t take it back. I love you, Gemini Cross."

A single tear fell from her eye. I couldn’t fathom why the words would make her cry. She didn’t respond to my declaration, and I did not want her to until she was ready.

"I’ll go with you," she said, before giving me a kiss. I was so consumed, I didn’t even notice Lettie crying tears of joy in the corner of the room.

37

Gema

Woman Escapes Operation

Paul and I played cards in the kitchen. He was teaching me how to play Gin Rummy, though I quickly realized that Paul always won because he had a talent for counting cards. I didn’t say anything, because his ability was truly remarkable, especially considering the decline of his memory. It had to be part of what helped him stay lucid at varying parts of the day.

I was just about to give up when Houston burst through the front door. "I thought you were at Frissel," I said. "Weren’t you working the late shift?"

He came towards me with a grin and kissed me soundly.

"I think I’m going to go lie down," Paul said.

"Are you sure Paul?" I asked. "We didn’t mean to run you off."