"Tomorrow?"
"If there's one scheduled tomorrow."
"Before we say good-by?"
Marcus could hear the bed rustle as Wilbur sat up. "We'll send them a note. Anyway they'll be on Mezzerow in a few months."
The door opened and Wilbur stood there, his face white and his eyes round and serious. "But I gotta say good-by to Mary Ellen."
Marcus took off the other shoe. He should have known not to leave them alone. His only excuse was that he had been thinking of other things. "I thought you didn't like her," he said.
"Pa, that was because I thought she didn't like me," said Wilbur. "But she does. I mean—" He leaned heavily against the doorway and his face was long and sad.
Marcus smiled in the near darkness. The boy had been around girls so seldom he didn't know how they behaved. He had mistaken a normal reaction to the opposite sex for something more. Nevertheless it had worked out nicely. Wilbur would not remember who it was that Mary Ellen had really pursued. With the feverish egotism of youth he would retain only the memory of the interest she'd shown in him. A kiss would haunt him for years. "Am I to understand you made love to her?" he asked sternly, amused at his own inaccuracy.
"Oh, Pa," said Wilbur. "I kissed her."