Christine Johnson - Suitor by Design

If anything, his face got redder, but it did draw Kate’s attention away from him.

The girl’s mouth curved into a smirk. “Minnie’s sweet on Peter.”

Her girlfriends seconded the proclamation.

Minnie felt her cheeks heat. “Am not!”

The girls giggled harder.

“Then why are you blushing?” Kate asked.

“Am not!” But that wasn’t true. Her face burned and was probably as red as Peter’s. Her gaze dropped to the magazine cover. If only she looked like Clara Bow, she could command respect. The fashionable guys would notice her. All it would take was a new hairstyle. She jutted out her chin. “For your information, I’m going to marry a sheik.”

Kate snorted. “A sheik? You? What a laugh. No sheik would look twice at someone like you. If you want my advice, you had better settle for a local guy.” She inclined her head toward Peter, making her point perfectly clear. “Come along, girls. We wouldn’t want to interfere with Minnie’s romance.”

The girls headed for the door, singing, “Peter and Minnie, sweet as can be...”

Minnie wanted to throw her soda at them, but the Bible said to turn the other cheek. It didn’t mention how hard that was to do. She slurped up the melted ice that tasted faintly of cherry soda. It was hopeless. She had only a hint of flavor, while girls like Kate sparkled.

“Forget them,” Jen said. “They only care about themselves.”

“I know.” And deep down she did know that, but would it really be such a terrible thing to be attractive and important for once? Just one day, Lord. One little day.

“They should get their mouths washed out with soap,” Jen added. “Let’s go.”

Minnie dug around in her pocket for the nickel to pay for her soda but came up with nothing. She frowned and hunted in her other pocket before a sudden thought distracted her. She could look like Clara Bow. Oh, she couldn’t afford a real hairstylist, but Jen had cut her own hair. It didn’t look that great, but then it had to be easier to cut someone else’s hair than your own. “Will you cut my hair?”

“Me?” Jen’s eyebrows lifted with surprise. “Mother always cuts your hair.”

“She won’t give me a bob. I want my hair to look like this.” She pointed to the Photoplay cover. “It shouldn’t be too difficult. Easier than cutting your own hair, and you did a pretty good job on that.”

“After Ruth straightened out all my mistakes. Why don’t you ask her?”

“Because she’d take Mother’s side. Will you do it? Please?”

“All right, then, but no promises you’ll look like that cover.”

“Good!” Minnie clapped her hands together.

“And you have to take the blame when Mother sees it.”

Minnie had no choice but to agree. Mother would throw a conniption fit. She loved Minnie’s long hair. Well, times were changing, and Minnie intended to change along with them. She was going to become a modern woman, and modern women wore both their hair and their skirts short. Modern women had guys, not beaus. They dated instead of being courted.

She sneaked a glimpse at the register. Peter had finished and was headed their way, tonic safely hidden in a paper sack.

“That’ll be five cents, miss.” The soda clerk tapped the counter.

Minnie dug around in her other coat pocket. Where had she put that nickel? “Just a minute.” She tried her skirt pocket. Nothing there, either. “I had a nickel in my coat pocket.” She reached in again and found a hole. “Oh, no! It must have fallen out. Jen?”

Her sister shook her head. “I don’t have any money with me.”

Minnie bit her lower lip. At least Kate wasn’t here to witness this embarrassing moment. She turned to the soda clerk. “May I pay you later?”

“You don’t have five cents?” He looked shocked.

“Here.” Peter stepped up and placed a dime on the counter. “Keep the change.”

The soda clerk snatched it up and went to the cash register.

Peter Simmons paid her bill? If Kate ever found out, she’d hound Minnie to death. “I’ll pay you back.”

He shuffled his feet, halfway looking down and half of the time peeking up at her. “Don’t need to.”

“Yes, I do.” She took a deep breath and remembered her manners. “Thank you.” She even managed a smile. “I found a hole in my pocket. It must have fallen out on the way here.”

“That happens.” Still, he stood there.

“I guess we should be going,” she suggested.

“Yeah, I suppose.” He stuffed the tonic into his coat pocket. “Look, Minnie, I was wondering—” He stopped abruptly, and his face got red.

She panicked. He was going to ask her to go with him to something. Not now. Not when she had discovered the means to interest a real man—one who could both help her family get out of debt and fulfill her dreams. “I need to get going.” She backed away. “Ruth is waiting for us.”

“Yeah. I should go, too. Mariah needs the medicine.”

“See you later, then. And thanks again.” She edged behind her grinning sister.

“Anytime.” He glanced at Jen before striding to the door. He yanked it open and let it slam shut before hurrying off toward the orphanage.

Only then could Minnie take a breath.

Jen was still grinning. “He is sweet on you.”

“No, he’s not.” Minnie felt the unwelcome flush of heat coupled with an odd slushy feeling inside. “He was just helping me out, like a brother would help a sister.”

Jen laughed. “Think that if you want, but I’m telling you that he is definitely interested.”

“Well, I’m not.” That should put an end to this. “I don’t feel anything romantic for him. Besides, he can hardly talk around me.”

“Ahhh.”

“And he’s not my type. I’m looking for more out of life than settling down with a local guy. I want to go places and see things. New York City. Maybe even Hollywood. I’m looking for a real hero.”

Jen dug in her coat pockets and pulled out some gloves. “You don’t want much, do you?”

“I just won’t settle. Kate Vanderloo can say what she wants, but I’m never going to marry someone local.”

“All right, then.” Yet Jen still had that impish grin on her face. “Let’s go.”

Minnie finished buttoning her worn hand-me-down coat and followed her sister. The moment she stepped outside, a blast of icy wind knocked her hat off her head. It tumbled and rolled toward the street. Before she could retrieve it, a fancy new car glided past. Its deep blue finish gleamed. The chrome grille sparkled. Every inch of it looked fast and expensive.

She grabbed Jen’s arm, her hat forgotten. “Look at that. I wonder who owns it. He must be rich to afford an automobile like that.”

Jen dug her hands deeper into her coat pockets. “I suppose.”

“I’ve never seen the car before,” Minnie mused. “It’s not Mr. Kensington’s or Mr. Neidecker’s or anyone else’s from the Hill.” Everyone referred to the wealthy neighborhood above Green Lake as the Hill. “He must be a newcomer. He could be a motion-picture actor.”

Jen rolled her eyes and started toward the dress shop. “In Pearlman?”

“Why not?” By the time Minnie retrieved her hat, the frigid air had numbed her cheeks and fingertips. She hurried after Jen. “Maybe he’s a new student at the airfield.”

“There won’t be any new students until spring.”

“Then who could he be?” Minnie leaned over the frozen street, trying to see where the car went, but she lost sight of it after it passed the bank. “Maybe he’s just passing through.”

“No one just passes through Pearlman.”

Jen had a point. That meant a newcomer in town—an important newcomer. Hopefully, he was a bachelor.