sat together cutting out paper dolls. But the story he loved best of all, was the story of how she had met his father. A story for young dreamers, a story that might happen to him.
It had happened at a country dance. He had asked her to dance and she had accepted. Even though she had not known him, she had danced with him all evening. And several weeks later he had asked her to marry him. She had accepted and they had moved, right after the wedding, to an oil field where he worked.
She had told Gaylord about the small house. About the wedding dress she had ordered from a mail order catalogue. She had shown it to him, for it had been in a box under the bed all wrapped in tissue paper and scented with sachet.
And now Gaylord remembered the first time he had tried it on. It had fitted perfectly. So had the white satin pumps. He and his mother had had fun that day and he recalled saying, "I wish I could wear dresses all the time, mother." And she had answered, "I wish you could too, darling—I prayed for a girl before you were born."
"Are you sorry I'm not a girl, mother?" he had asked.
"No, dear. I wouldn't trade you for the prettiest one in the world. You're just what I wanted."
It wasn't too many years back he had tried on the dress again. He had been alone this time. He would have been ashamed for even his mother to know he still liked to wear it. But to wear it again was no more. It was too small and so were the shoes. He had felt sad that day. Sad with the realization he was growing up. The happy hours of playing "lady" were over.
His thoughts moved away from his mother's stories but lingered on the dress. I wish I could wear it tonight, he thought. I wish I was a beautiful girl and I was all dressed up waiting for Bob to call on me. I wish I wasn't a boy.
For a second he considered the unfairness of it all. He thought of that girl, Joy Clay. She had come between dreams and reality. She would be in Robert Blake's arms tonight. He would hold her close and whisper things to her that Gaylord would never hear. Why should he? After all boys don't tell other boys about love. In fact he couldn't even gather up enough courage to ask Blake to go riding with him.
"I'll ask him," he said suddenly. "If I get a chance tonight I'll ask
