Kansas Summer

A Prom and A Promise

“I'm coming!” Jenna's voice rings from upstairs. I turn away from my conversation with Mr. Jackson to watch my girlfriend make her way down the stairs, slowly, to the foyer. Her mom and dad stand beside me. Both of their hands are clutched together. I smile. This was just as much a moment for them as it was for Jenna and I. I hold my breath as she steps onto the first step.

She takes the air out of my throat as she walks into the light, flashing her pearly teeth. Her chocolate hair is let down, and hangs down her left shoulder. Her dress is navy blue. It has spaghetti straps, a half-back, and a train that reaches to the floor and trails a little behind Jenna. The dress is rather skinny, but it displays her slender physique perfectly. Once she has descended to our level, Jenna picks up a side of her dress and spins around for effect. She stops, and walks up to me.

“King, your mouth is agape.”

I shut it immediately, not noticing before that it was hanging open. She turns away from me and walks up to her parents. Her father embraces her in a tight hug.

“You don't know how—happy—I am for you, Jen.” His voice cracks, and I know he is trying to contain his tears. Jenna's mom, on the other hand, cannot hold it in. She bursts into tears, and has to lean on her husband for support. She sniffles, and wipes her red eyes with her sleeve.

“My girl. My—beautiful—girl. Come here, honey.” Jenna's mom falls onto her daughter, who stands at least a half foot over her. I see Jenna roll her eyes, and stare into my direction. Breaking apart from her mom, she slowly steps over to where I'm standing in a simple tuxedo.

“You're a lucky man, Colin,” Jenna's father tells me, “A father couldn't be more happy than to lend his daughter to a deserving man such as yourself.” I nod my head to him, and move closer to Jenna.

“I can't say anything,” I breathe, taking her hand in mine, and kissing it. Jenna blushes.

“Now don't you wish you had asked me properly?” We meet eye-to-eye and stare at each other for a few seconds.

“I'll make it up to you somehow,” I promise. I wrap my arms around her, pulling her close into me. Jenna lays her head on my shoulder, and I gently run my hand through her hair. I close my eyes, enjoying the moment.

“Pictures,” mutters Mrs. Jackson, “I must get pictures.” Jenna and I are startled from our moment, and we pull away from each other quickly. Mr. Jackson fidgets with something in his pocket.

“Here, Colin. Take the Neon instead of your truck. I trust you. Now, 7th Heaven is on, and I—uh—don't want to be missing anything. Women can have their pictures!” Mr. Jackson snorts before becoming more serious. “Take care of my girl, Colin, and Jen, you be safe. No romping around the punch bowl. Oh, Colin,” he turns to me with almost a glare on his face, “dance with her.” Satisfied that he has made his point, Mr. Jackson marches out of the foyer and into the living room, where he sits down to watch his favorite T.V. Show.

Jenna is smirking. “You heard my dad! Now you have to dance with me!”

“To be honest with you, I don't know a lot about dancing,” I mutter, scuffing the floor lightly with my shoes.

“It's easy,” Jenna assures me, “I'll show you a simple one. Here, take my hand. There you go, now put your hand on my waist.”

“Put my hand where?” I blurt out, taken quite aback.

“Yes, on my waist. But only on my waist! If your hands go wandering, Colin King, these shoes—.” She pulls her dress off of her dark slippers, showing me how tight and pointed they are. “—will hurt! Need I say more?”