Chapter 49

Debbie kept asking me to double date with her and Wally, but I had to decline most of the time. Wally didn’t work so he was free during the week like me and Debbie. But not Paul. He had a job. Knowing that, Wally asked Debbie if he should set me up with another boy. That was odd. Wally and Paul were best friends. Paul was my boyfriend. Of course I said no. Was I being tested or was Wally being disloyal to his best friend? I never found out.

On the weekend, Paul and I did double date with them and ended up parked at Canarsie Pier after Paul told Wally about it. Why did Paul and I double date with them? Paul and I had snuck into the school one more time and nearly got caught. The school was no longer an option and we had nowhere else to go. So why not double date? We had fun with Debbie and Wally. And I really liked when Debbie peeked into the back seat to spy on Paul and me. That excited me.

All kids in New York City understood the significance of the Labor Day holiday. They knew it meant they had one more week of summer vacation. Labor Day fell on the first Monday of September and school started the following Monday. In 1958, the first day of September was a Monday so the holiday fell on my birthday. My eighteenth birthday. My parents made a big fuss over me becoming eighteen, but I was more excited about my date with Paul the day before.

Paul had bought tickets to a Broadway play for Sunday, the day before my birthday. He had said he wanted to do it on my birthday, but Broadway went dark on Monday. When I had asked him what that meant, he told me the theaters were closed on Mondays. It was their day off. So he got tickets for the day before my birthday, on Sunday. The Sunday shows were matinees that started at three in the afternoon which he said was good for two reasons. First, we could go out to dinner in the City after the play. Second, the next day was the Labor Day holiday so he didn’t have to go to work.

I was so excited on Sunday that I was barely able to eat a light lunch and started getting ready right afterward. I stood in the bathroom in my bra and panties, leaning into the mirror over the sink. I poked at my hair, fixing a loose strand here and there until I made the final pats. Then I applied the last touches to my makeup. I wanted it to be perfect for this special birthday celebration—my first Broadway play followed by dinner in Manhattan.

Returning to my bedroom, I rummaged through the closet searching for my favorite dress. It was blue and elegant. Probably too fancy for a Sunday date, but I was going to a Broadway play. I took it off the hangar and laid it on my bed. Then I opened my underwear drawer and dug through the back until I found my garter belt. It was the only one I had and I rarely wore it since it was needed for nylons that I hardly ever wore. When my mother had bought it for me, she wanted me to buy an elastic girdle with clips attached. She had said some day I would need the girdle so why not, as she had said, “Kill two birds with one stone.” I had fought with her, claiming the girdle would be uncomfortable and I didn’t need it. She eventually relented and bought me the garter belt when I threatened never to wear nylons. After all, there were times a well brought up girl was required to wear nylons and no daughter of hers would be seen in bare legs at those times. It would not have been proper.

After strapping on the garter belt, I remembered the time I really needed to pee at a relative’s wedding and wasn’t able to pull my panties down because the garter belt was over them. As I said, I hardly ever wore nylons so I had forgotten. I took off the garter belt and then my panties. After putting the belt back on, I pulled my panties up over it, feeding the straps with its clips through the leg holes. After adjusting and smoothing out my panties, I carefully took my nylons out of the drawer and gently laid them on the bed as if they were the most fragile thing I owned. In a way they were. I only had two pairs of nylons and it was easy to get a run in them.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I cautiously inserted my foot into one of the nylons, curling my toes so as not to snag it with my toenails. I dragged it over my heel and smoothed it up my leg and fastened it to the garter clips. I then did the same with the other nylon and put on my shoes. I stood and looked down, adjusting my panties and the garter straps until I was satisfied. Then I stepped into the dress, shimmied it up my body, reached behind me, and zipped it closed.

Just as I checked the clock, the doorbell rang. My heart raced. It was time for my special date with Paul. I felt like a queen. I wanted to rush down the stairs, but I was afraid of falling. My strapped dress shoes weren’t as sturdy as my everyday ones so I walked down slowly. Plus they had a two-inch heel.

“You look handsome,” my mother said to Paul as I neared the bottom of the staircase.

Oh god! I couldn’t believe she had said that. But when I was standing at her side, I had to admit she was right. Paul did look handsome in his suit and tie.

Paul whistled at me. “You look great!” he said.

“Yeah,” my mother said, “Julie looks all grown up.”

Oh no! How many ways could my mother embarrass me? I pushed past her, grabbed Paul’s arm, and dragged him down the cement steps in front of my house while my mother was shouting for us to have a good time. At his car, he held the door open for me and I got in as ladylike as I could, but the dress snagged on the bracelet I wore and rode up my leg showing the top of my stocking and the clips holding it up. I freed the material caught in my bracelet and quickly yanked my dress down and smoothed it out.

Paul whistled again. “You’re wearing nylons.”

I quickly glanced at my front door, but it was already closed. I smiled at Paul.

“I wanted to look pretty for you,” I said.

“You do. You look awesome.”

Paul rushed around the front of the car and got in.

“So where’s my surprise?” I asked.

“Is that all you want to know?”

My cheeks flushed. I was being silly. “No, it’s just that you wouldn’t tell me and I’ve been dying to know.”

Paul smiled. “You’ll get it soon. Now don’t talk about it right now. I’m nervous as it is.”

Nervous? Why would Paul be nervous? What kind of surprise was he planning? I knew! He was going to take me to a hotel after dinner. How would I explain getting home so late? Oh god! Was Paul expecting me to spend the night in a hotel with him? He didn’t have work the next day. Yeah! I was definitely going to do that. We could make love in the comfort of a bed without worrying about prying eyes. Like I used to do with Mr. Russo and Mr. Roman. If my parents punished me it would be worth it. I wasn’t a kid anymore. I was going to be eighteen tomorrow!

I stopped pestering Paul about the surprise.