PART 2 (A continuation of my true love story)  PLEASE READ PART 1 BEFORE READING PART 2

From Crayons to Perfume

My First Love

Almost immediately, we began ‘seeing’ each other; it was my distinct understanding that ‘seeing’ each other did not equate with dating.  For, according to my parents, I was too young to date.  Dances, amusement parks, lunches, beach walks, matching shirts, and getting to know one another filled the remainder of our summer days and evenings. We spoke of what we each were considering for our futures. Being so young, I hadn’t given my adult days too much thought, but I began to do so. Talking was so comfortable and easy with him. He listened intently, asked questions, joked, and together we laughed often.

Summer passed much too quickly. Soon it was time to head back to school.  With hesitation, my parents allowed Bentley to pick me up for school each morning.  They gradually gave in to my ‘going out’ with him!  ‘Going out’ meant dating, and dating meant meeting my parent’s rules of Bentley driving to my house, coming inside to speak with my parents, and then bringing me to the door before curfew at the end of the evening.  I’m sure it was against their better judgment, but I was a feisty, determined young girl, and I suspect they knew I would have gone behind their backs to see him.  The lesser of the two evils was vigilant supervision, which I made anything but easy for them. Bentley and I definitely made one another a priority, planning how we could spend at least a few moments together daily.

Bentley was a mighty fine dancer; he knew every dance style, fast and slow, and all the right moves. My parents said I had been dancing since I learned to walk, so we thoroughly looked forward to the weekends and dancing.  Most couples chose “their song,” one they felt was meaningful for them. Bentley and I picked a hit by Ronnie Dove, “Say You,” and when we heard the first few notes, we hurried onto the dance floor!  I never imagined two people could be so close while dancing and still move in rhythm to the music.  With my head nuzzled into his broad chest, he would whisper in my ear and kiss my neck. Oh, how I wanted the songs never to end.  Those butterflies that electrified my entire being would instantly return whenever he got close to me.  It took me a few months to not feel nervous around him each time we met.  I blushed easily in his presence, it was out of my control, and he found a wee bit of humor and a lot of sweetness in that.

Bentley treated me like a princess.  I never paid for anything when we were together, and I would often find, in the back seat of his car, a new stuffed animal looking for a home. Birthdays, Christmas, Sweetest Day, and all the “love” holidays brought unique gifts from him.  Possessing a quick wit, he loved to tease me – about everything.  Because Bentley had a job, he had spending money; he’d often take me to the Dairy Queen after school. I’d eat a burger, fries, and an ice cream sundae. For that, with a wicked chuckle, he called me “Freddie the Freeloader.”

As Lulu sings in the song, “To Sir with Love,” Bentley had indeed taught me so much about life and love and had been the young man to take me from crayons to perfume. From gym socks to nylons. From tennis shoes to heels. I grew from a baseball-playing tomboy into a young lady who liked expensive dresses, purses, pretty shoes, makeup, mascara, and lipstick.  He was the boy who made me appreciate the anticipation of growing into a woman. The truth is, I learned more from Bentley about the birds and the bees than I learned in one semester of health classes.  Bentley showed an affectionate sensitivity toward me and was genuinely respectful in his behavior towards me – he was always a first-class gentleman.

I figured I’d marry him. I even started a “hope chest,” as was a customary step when in a serious relationship. I was quite young, so I didn’t have much in it, but it was a start. I was confident that was the direction in which we were moving.  We continued dating for several months, growing closer, going out to dinner on our first anniversary, him trying to give me driving lessons, and occasionally helping me with my homework. I loved to roller skate, and although he wasn’t interested in skating, he would come to the rink and patiently watch me.  Shortly after closing time, when he worked evenings at the gas station, I would watch out of my upstairs bedroom window and wave as he passed our house and blew his ooogah horn. Everyone within a half-mile knew Bentley was headed home after work!