Texas Rich

Chapter One The crisscross-patterned lace curtains, which should have been silk organdy but were rayon instead, billowed in the soft May breeze. The chitterings of birds and new green scents drifted into Billie Ames's room. She drew in her breath, savoring the tantalizing fragrances. Spring was her favorite time of year and this year it had seemed such a long time coming. In thirty-seven days she would graduate from high school. Adulthood. Grown-up. She bent to tie her saddle shoes, brushing impatiently at her ash-blond hair, which fell over her eyes, and frowned. Multistriped shoelaces and white anklets? Some grown-up! She should be wearing nylon stockings and heels, not these remnants of girlhood. But the war had been on in Europe for some time now and since the attack on Pearl Harbor last December, Billie had wondered if sheer stockings would go the way of the passenger pigeon: extinct. Not that it mattered, because they were beyond the limits of her clothing allowance anyway. Lots of women wore leg makeup and drew seams on the backs of their legs. But only pagans and Philistines did such things, declared Billie's mother. And Agnes Ames rarely, if ever, admitted she was wrong. Billie's thoughts circled back to graduation. When she flipped the tassel of her mortarboard from one side to the other it would be the beginning of her last free summer and then off to Penn State. She'd already signed up for a major in English, because she had to pick something; but the truth was she hated the whole idea. What Billie wanted, really wanted, was to go to a good design and textile school. Agnes said that wouldn't be seemly. The best schools were in New York City and young girls just didn't live there alone. Not nice girls, at any rate. Later, after Billie had her degree, she could fool with such notions. But Billie suspected the real reason was that the cost of design school was prohibitive. She wished she knew more about the family finances. Were they comfortable or merely keeping their heads above water? Agnes said that was hardly the concern of a young girl. Study, socialize with "acceptable youngsters," and dress well. That was Agnes's credo, and it always ended with: "Then you'll marry a young man from an old mainline family and your future will be secured. And always remember that no man wants used merchandise. Virginity is your most prized possession. Guard it well!" It was hard not to giggle when Agnes began preaching. Sighing, Billie buttoned the straps of her jumper, which she'd made herself. It was such a beautiful shade of lavender and it had huge pearl buttons on the shoulder straps and two smaller ones on the patch pockets. Instead of hemming the skirt, she'd fringed it. She was the only girl in school with a fringed skirt, so far. By next week there would be at least twenty others; she was certain of it. Billie Ames enjoyed being something of a style setter. Virginity. Agnes put great store in preserving it. Temptation was something to be fought and conquered until one's wedding night. Billie sighed again, this time more deeply. Temptation wasn't a problem for her. She had no steady boyfriend, didn't want one, either. And the boys she knew were certainly not worth wasting her virginity on. They had pimply faces, sloppy clothes, and bicycles with chipped paint and chains that always slipped off when they rode double. There was nothing at all romantic about them! Besides, most of the boys had nothing except the war on their minds, hardly able to wait for graduation when they could enlist and prove what big men they were. Girls were only secondary to the German and Japanese armies. Billie's world was simply too narrow, she thought. She wished she had more opportunities to travel, see things, do things. EvenMichaels, Fern is the author of 'Texas Rich' with ISBN 9780345401144 and ISBN 034540114X.