Standing in the Rainbow - Fannie Flagg [82]
Bobby looked at it again. “I want it to be more serious than that.”
“Ahh . . . I see.” She shuffled through the cards and picked up one with a cupid, looked at it, and put it back down. “No, you don’t want that; what we need is something in the middle, a cross between an adult valentine and a child’s valentine. Not silly . . . but not too mushy.” She chose another card. “Well . . . let’s see, no, you don’t want that either. All right, here’s one. . . . Look, it just has a nice simple heart on it and a nice simple message. You Are My Ideal Valentine . . . Be Mine.”
Bobby took it from her and studied it. “Do you really think this is a good one?”
“Oh yes, very tasteful, understated but to the point.”
“Are you sure?”
“Oh yes.”
Bobby seemed pleased and took his pen and wrote across the bottom. Guess Who. His mother looked at what he had signed. “Do you mean to tell me that you have gone through all this agony and you’re not even going to sign your name?”
Bobby was horrified. “I don’t want her to know it’s from me! Besides, we’re not supposed to sign our names.”
“Well, how about giving her a hint, just a little one? That would be O.K., wouldn’t it?”
“What kind of hint?”
“I don’t know. Maybe you could narrow it down for her just a tad.”
“Like what?”
“You could say, From your admirer, the boy with the brown hair.”
“Oh, Mother, that’s stupid.”
“No, it’s not. Think about it. Wouldn’t you hate it if a girl liked you and never let you know? You have to have courage about this. . . . Remember, you have to take a chance on romance.”
“What if she throws up or something?”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Bobby, I can’t believe with all the noise you make that now suddenly you’ve gone shy and retiring. What’s happened to you?”
Bobby sat and thought about it for a long time. Then, mustering up all his courage, he even went a step beyond, threw caution to the wind, and signed, From the boy in the third row with the brown hair and brown eyes.
The next morning Dorothy told her listeners, “If you are standing up, sit down, because I never thought I’d live to see the day that Bobby Smith actually got up, combed his hair without me having to send him back to his room. Oh, isn’t love grand . . . and I do speak from experience. For years now I have been wanting a Sweetheart Swing in the backyard. I don’t know how many times I have said to Doc, Wouldn’t the spot right under the crab apple tree be just perfect for a little Sweetheart Swing so we could sit out here and look out over the fields and watch the sun go down? If you can believe it, yesterday morning after the show, I looked out in the backyard and there was Glenn and Macky Warren putting up a brand-new Sweetheart Swing. Glenn said, ‘Doc sent us over and said to tell you Happy Valentine’s Day.’ So young people don’t have a monopoly on love.” Mother Smith played a few bars of “Don’t Sit Under the Apple Tree with Anyone Else but Me.” Neighbor Dorothy chuckled. “That’s right, Mother Smith . . . he better not sit under the apple or any tree with anybody else but me . . . or I’ll have to bean him. Are you listening, Doc?”
Bobby fidgeted in his seat all day, waiting for the valentine party to start, when finally Miss Henderson brought out the cookies and handed out all the valentines. When she called Claudia Albetta’s name, Bobby pretended to be looking around the room but he watched her as she sat down and opened the envelope. She then turned around and smiled and gave the sweetest little wave.
Bobby smiled and waved back but she did not see him. She was smiling at the boy who sat three seats behind him, a boy that Bobby forgot had brown hair and brown eyes as well. Rats.
When he came home Dorothy met him at the front door. “Well?” she said.
“I told you it was a stupid idea. Now she likes Eugene Whatley.”
“Oh, dear,” said Dorothy.
When their friend Mr. Charlie Fowler, the