The Klaatu Terminus Read Online Free Page A

of the long sleeves. How many hours of a seamstress’s time did that represent? She tried to imagine Greta — her small, round, buxom mother — fitting into it. Of course, that had been fifty years ago.
    The dress was in extraordinary condition. It had only been worn once. The taffeta skirt was crisp yet pliable, the beads still had their original sheen, and there was no yellowing whatsoever. Greta had stored it carefully in tissue paper in its original box from Dayton’s downtown store in Minneapolis. The only flaw was a wine stain above the left breast.
    “A perfect place for a lovely corsage,” Greta had said when Emily pointed out the stain. Greta had been pestering Emily to try it on ever since. “I know it will fit you, dear. I was just your size when Hamm and I got married.”
    Emily’s only thought at that moment had been that she would never let herself go like Greta.
    She stood up and ran her fingers across the beaded bodice. The slick hardness of the beads made her think of chain mail, as if the dress could deflect a bullet. She turned the dress to look at the back. Getting into it would not be easy. She would need help with the loop fasteners — again, like donning a suit of armor. Getting it off would be just as difficult. The thought of being trapped inside it made her shiver.
    Emily thought she knew what love was. Hamm and Greta loved each other. But theirs was a gentle, daily, practical love. They loved her, as well, with the tender, protective love that parents have for their children. And she loved them back.
    But what of Adrian? She had seen the sudden, melodramatic love that swept away many of her school friends — almost a parody of the burning, all-consuming love depicted in movies and on television — but she had never experienced it for herself. Did she
love
Adrian? She cared for him, certainly. She was attracted by his self-confidence, his masculinity, his harsh good looks, and most of all by his desire for her. Sometimes she could feel it coming off him, that hunger. But did she
love
him?
    When they walked through town arm in arm, she felt proud.
    When he fixed his eyes upon her, she felt beautiful.
    When he spoke of his dreams and plans, she felt inspired.
    If that was love, then, yes, she loved him.
    Still, the thought that there might be something more, something missing, something she had never experienced . . . gnawed at her.
    A few days after Adrian left, Emily had tried talking about it with Karen Jonas, her best friend from high school. Karen, who had gone out with more boys than Emily could count, had laughed at her.
    “You want something that doesn’t exist,” Karen had said. “Look at me. I’m going out with Stan Elkin. Chances are I’ll marry him. Do I love him? Eh. But I know I can make him into a lovable guy if I work at it. He’s going to college up in Saint Paul next year. I’m moving in with him.”
    “You’re going to
live
with him?” Emily feigned shock though in truth she was not at all surprised.
    Karen shrugged. “Think of it as a test run.”
    “I don’t think Adrian would go for that.”
    “Probably not,” Karen agreed. “Anyway, you two are officially engaged. That’s way better than being in love.”
    Now, staring at the big white dress, Emily wasn’t so sure.
    The three weeks since Adrian left had been the emptiest weeks of her life. Nothing but long days of working at the Economart, evenings of doing nothing at all, and endless nights of lying awake and thinking about what life would be like for her once she got married. She no longer hung out with Karen or any of her other girlfriends. Their lives revolved around their boyfriends or ex-boyfriends. Now that Emily was engaged to Adrian, she had entered another phase.
    In part, she knew, it had to do with the fact that Adrian was almost a decade older than her. And that he wanted to be a preacher. Once they’d become engaged, her girlfriends had stopped talking about sex — or anything remotely