The Girl With No Name

And here it is, Evelyn's side of Wendell's story.  I suggest you read The Traveling Man first, but it's not needed to understand this story.  Dedicated to Paristella, who is hosting a Christmas/winter story contest that I'm participating in.  Thanks for giving me an excuse to write completely about Evelyn!

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A small town in Delaware 

1937

Evelyn was bored out of her mind.

 

Her mother insisted that she come to this horrendously dull Christmas party at their church, and Evelyn learned from her twenty years of living that under no circumstance should she ever try to argue with her mother.  “Evelyn, you need to socialize!  You haven’t seen your friends since you came home from college,” her mother had said.

 

“I have friends at college, Mom,” Evelyn protested.  “And I’ve been studying every day for the past month!  I just want to stay home and sleep.”

 

“Oh, Evelyn, it’s Christmas Eve!  You need to have some fun!  Come now, we’re both going to this party and–”

 

“Mom,” Evelyn groaned.

 

Her mother held up a hand to silence her.  “And that’s the end of it.  Now please go do something with your hair.  It’s a mess.”

 

Evelyn had decided not to push it any further.  She put on a frilly red dress that she spent a month’s salary on – in hindsight, it was a foolish thing to do, given the economic crisis at hand – and struggled with her stubborn hair that wouldn’t twist into a proper bun.  After nearly an hour of trying to calm the frizz, Evelyn gave up and carelessly pinned her hair up into an updo, thinking it was good enough and no one would notice (probably).  A dab of lipstick was applied, high heels were strapped on, and a pleasant smile was plastered on her face.

 

And now here she was at the church, restlessly shifting her weight from her right leg to her left while drinking her fifth cup of punch.  Her dress was starting to feel uncomfortable, and her hair was deflating from the warmth in the room.  A crowd of her old high school friends were gathered around her, and Evelyn forced a smile and laughed stiffly at their tedious gossip.  How she wished she could escape their incessant chatter.

 

“Wait!” one of her friends suddenly spoke up, interrupting the flow of conversation.  “Girls, do you hear that?”

 

They fell quiet for a few glorious seconds, just enough time for Evelyn to hear the upbeat swinging tune that lured everyone to the center of the room.  The girls’ excited voices started talking over each other again.  

 

“Oh, that’s my favorite song!”