Months passed and it was now September of 1951. I was in my junior year at Hunter. A lot had changed since when I first began my college journey.
Helen was engaged to a man from the building she grew up in. His name was Tim, and he was one of the finance guys down on Wallstreet. She was in my dorm holding a doily in one hand and a fascinator hat with veil attached in the other.
She had a powder blue blazer and pencil skirt that she was going to wear in the court house, I was surprised a girly-girl like Helen wouldn't want a huge wedding.
"And you and Betty will be the witnesses!" She smiled as she placed the doily on her head. Her shoulder length hair had been cut lower and curled tighter, she said she wanted to look like Liz Taylor.
Her hands were already covered with her tiny white gloves. She turned to me, anxious about how she would look on her big day. "Tell me— is the doily too outdated?"
"You look like you're going to Church." I laughed looking at the lacy doily on her head. She frowned, taking it off and picking at it in her white gloves.
"Don't remind me about Church. I'm still upset I'm not getting married in one." She sighed. Then she looked up at me, her red lipstick covered lips forming in a smile. "At least my parents are able to make it today!"
"Who else is coming today?" I asked and Helen placed the doily on her head again. "Try the fascinator."
"I don't want to make it look like I'm going to a funeral..." She sighed.
"That light blue looks like you're going to anything but a funeral." I reassured her. She put on the laced fascinator hat and looked herself in the mirror.
My door opening interrupted her scrutinizing herself, Helen looked over and froze.
"I'll come back later." Doris said softly as she began walking in the hall.
"Wait!" Helen called out. Doris turned around and stood in the doorway.
There as a thick silence in the room, and I looked between each of the girls wondering if I should excuse them.
"How do I look?" Helen asked, stretching out her arms practically in her light blue blazer.
"Amazing, as usual." Doris said quietly. My heart broke for the both of them.
After news got back to Helen's mother than she and Doris had a relationship much more intimate than the norm, she immediately got Tim to call on Helen.
Helen liked Tim, but she liked a lot of people. She was a kind heart that constantly gave warmth and appreciation to most people.
"You're be beautiful on your big day, Helen." Doris said calmly, but her statement was laced with sadness. Then, she stuffed her hands in the pockets of her cuffed jeans, and then turned around and walked out.
Once Helen turned around to face me, she had tears in her eyes. She touched the lace on her fascinator hat and softly tugged it to lower it more on her face.
"Well— I guess we should be off." Helen sighed.
In that court house, Betty and I held two small bouquets of flowers as we watched Helen tie the knot. She didn't seem as happy as a bride should be on her wedding day.
She didn't seem as happy as she did on a daily basis.
They shared an kiss that was long enough, but lacked the passion I've watch Helen have in other kisses.
Betty and I stood up and clapped with our flowers in hand. We began parading out of the courtroom, and one spectator sat in the back of the room.
Tim hadn't met Doris, which enabled her to quietly watch the wedding take place in the corner. Her dark colored fedora was lowered, covering part of her face.
Betty never spotted her, but I did. She even wore a tux to the event, although she desperately wished things could have gone differently.
By dark, after we returned from a simple celebratory restaurant outing, Helen was in her room.
Doris, of course, was her roommate still. It had to be early morning hours, it was so late. Sleep was filling my eyes but I still stood by their cracked door to see how things would play out.
Helen had tears rolling down her cheeks as she kissed Doris. She kissed Doris in a way that a bride should kiss her spouse. Doris laid Helen on that small twin sized bed, and they continued to make love.
I discreetly shut the door behind them, giving them privacy and shielding them from the possibility that anyone else would see them.
Walking down the hall, it was empty. The girls were all asleep. While entering my dorm, I saw that Joan was asleep.
I looked at my side table that stood right below a window, and the moonlight shined over it. A single magazine sat on the surface, and Marlon's face was on the cover.
A Streetcar Named Desire, Who Is The Saucy Marlon Brando?
Laying in my bed, I opened the magazine and read the words about Marlon. They painted him to be a stud that exuded animalistic energy. It was almost as if they painted him to be a monster.
I heard rumors that Marlon had an affair with Vivien Leigh, and an even worse one... that he had an affair with her husband as well.
I believed it, Marlon was not one to shy away from sharing a girl with another man.
I looked at photos of him with Shelley Winters, how cozy they both looked. His life was totally different now.
He had made it in Hollywood and now people began knowing his name. When I passed the newspaper stands, his face was on the paper. When I turned on the radio, his interviews played on.
The small actor who made his living on Broadway had no longer existed to me. He was a new entity that seemed impossible to grasp.
That night in the hotel room, I kicked him out of my life. He had so obviously moved on with his own.
I wondered if he remembered me, and I figured he hadn't. He had so many lovers in California why would he?
Placing the magazine on my chest, I laid down and closed my eyes. In my dreams, I remembered when Marlon Brando was more or less mine.