“Who cares! Hurrah—We’re off—It could rhyme with gay; if you insist, ’cause that’s how I feel. This whole back seat to ourselves and we’re going places. Whoopee! I’m afraid to open my eyes too wide for fear I’ll find out I’m sitting in study hall instead of zipping along this grand new road. I’ve held my breath for days, I’ve been so scared something would happen and we wouldn’t get off.”
Waiting was the hardest thing Mimi ever did. When she wanted anything she wanted it badly and wanted it RIGHT THEN. The two days she waited before Dr. Barnes finally gave her permission to go on this wonderful spree were a month long to Mimi. From that happy minute when Dr. Barnes, through Mrs. Cole, had said “yes” Mimi had trod lightly lest she burst the shimmering bubble of their precious plans. Now it was all coming true. The weekend bags were packed and stacked at their feet. Dit was on the front seat with Jack evidently having a good time. Mimi could see how she kept turning her head toward Jack and smiling up at him and talking. Strangely Jack was even better looking than his picture. The photographer hadn’t caught his friendly twinkle. When he took both Mimi’s cold little hands and said, “So you’re the kid Betsy keeps writing about. I need another little Sis.” Without saying so, he was showing more than how nice he was. He was telling Mimi that Betsy liked her; liked her enough to write Jack about her, to invite her on this thrilling trip. She unfolded a fringed plaid blanket and spread it across Betsy’s knees and tucked the other end over her own. She’d make Betsy glad she asked her instead of an older friend.
“Isn’t it all too precious?” she sighed contentedly as she nestled down. She stared down the rolling road which cut a straight black strip through the hills. Without opening her lips she said to herself, “Hojoni, Hojoni.” No need to say it aloud. Betsy was probably feeling the same thing—beauty and happiness, but let her say it to herself her own way. Mimi liked to keep her magic word private unless some one was in real trouble and needed to find the way.
“How long will it take us to get there, Jack?” Betsy had to ask twice before Jack heard or heeded. He was finding the trail happy, too.
“In time for supper, I hope. I had the dickens of a time getting a reservation for you all. I finally got one room. I’m staying at the House.”
Mimi knew that he referred to his fraternity house. Betsy had told her how popular Jack had been at school. She had two of his old annuals and a picture of his chapter.
“We can manage fine,” Dit was saying, “can’t we, girls? Sleeping is one of the best things we do at Sheridan—sometimes in classes. We aren’t coming to Nashville to sleep.”
Mimi didn’t care if she never slept again. She was so full of tingles and throbs she couldn’t sleep if she had her own ivory bed from home. Forever afterward when she recounted her good times at Sheridan, one of the first things she remembered was this trip.
The sun had sunk behind the hills and the bare trees made black outlines against the graying sky before they reached the suburbs. Traffic had increased surprisingly in the last five miles. Once Jack swerved so quickly to avoid a collision that the car had poised the fraction of a second on two wheels before he straightened it. Mimi and Betsy rolled from one side of the back seat and back to the other. Cars, cars, cars, two abreast, often three abreast going to the city. The pigstands were surrounded with carefree travelers making loud boasts about tomorrow’s score.
“Might be a good idea for us to eat supper out here, somewhere,” Dit suggested. “I imagine every place in town is packed and jammed. What do you think, Jack?”