of those – I mean just being relaxed, and right, and, you know, with a blessing. Does “blessing” seem silly to you?’
‘Can’t we give each other the blessing?’
‘In making me feel so loved you’ve convinced me being somebody’s mistress is too shabby for me.’
‘It is. You’re too nice, you’re too straight, really. You give too completely. I hate myself for accepting.’
‘Accept, Jerry. If you can’t take me as a wife, don’t spoil me as a mistress.’
‘But I don’t want you as a mistress; our lives just aren’t built for it. Mistresses are for European novels. Here, there’s no institution except marriage. Marriage and the Friday night basketball game. You can’t take this indefinitely; you think you can, but I know you can’t.’
‘I guess I know it too. It’s just that I’m so scared of trying for everything and losing what we have.’
‘What we have is love. But love must become fruitful, or it loses itself. I don’t mean having babies – God, we’ve all had too many of those – I mean just being relaxed, and right, and, you know, with a blessing. Does “blessing” seem silly to you?’
‘Can’t we give each other the blessing?’
‘No. For some reason it must come from above.’
Above them, in a sky still bright though the earth was ripening into shadow, an aeroplane hung cruciform, silver, soundless. He put his arm lightly around her shoulders and looked at her in a different mood; his face broke into its fatherly smile, forgiving, enveloping. He said, ‘Hey’ and looked at his knees. ‘You know, I can sit here with you and talk about loss, about my losing you,and us losing our love, but I can do it only because you’re with me, so it doesn’t seem serious. When I have lost you, when you’re not there, it’s a fantastic ache. Just fantastic. And everything that keeps me from coming to you seems just words.’
‘But it’s not just words.’
‘No. Not quite, I guess. Maybe our trouble is that we live in the twilight of the old morality, and there’s just enough to torment us, and not enough to hold us in.’
The timbre of his voice, dipping towards some final shadow, chilled her. She moved forward, out from under his arm, stood up, inhaled, and let her mind expand into the landscape. ‘What a beautiful long day’ she said, trying to recapture their pleasure in discovering this place.
‘Almost the longest of the year,’ he said, rising with the pert little dignity he put on when he felt rebuffed. ‘I can’t remember if the days are drawing in now, or still opening up.’ He looked at her, imagined she didn’t understand, and explained, ‘The solstice.’ Both laughed, because he had explained the obvious.
They returned to the waiting room and found it still full. The five-fifteen had departed. The aroma of hot dogs had intensified; it was suppertime. The three young people behind the counters had grown bored with the indefatigable emergency. They passed wisecracks back and forth between them, shrugged a great deal, and did not so much answer as indulge the angry press of anxiety before them. The girl with white hair was sipping coffee from a mug displaying the airline insignia. Jerry asked her if the six o’clock section was ready yet.
‘We have not received word, sir.’
‘But you said an hour ago there would be one.’
‘It will be announced, sir, as soon as definite word is received.’
‘But we have to get home. Our – baby-sitter has to go to a dance.’ How like Jerry Sally thought, to lie, when he did lie, so badly. A dance on Tuesday night? She and the girl looked at each other, and Jerry, exposed between them, nakedly asked the girl, ‘Is there any hope?’
‘We have requested a section from the head office and are awaiting word,’ the girl said, and turned away to sip her coffee in privacy.
Jerry looked so grim that Sally told him, ‘I’m hungry’ hoping to elicit one of his rude friendly jokes about her appetite. But
‘Can’t we give each other the blessing?’
‘In making me feel so loved you’ve convinced me being somebody’s mistress is too shabby for me.’
‘It is. You’re too nice, you’re too straight, really. You give too completely. I hate myself for accepting.’
‘Accept, Jerry. If you can’t take me as a wife, don’t spoil me as a mistress.’
‘But I don’t want you as a mistress; our lives just aren’t built for it. Mistresses are for European novels. Here, there’s no institution except marriage. Marriage and the Friday night basketball game. You can’t take this indefinitely; you think you can, but I know you can’t.’
‘I guess I know it too. It’s just that I’m so scared of trying for everything and losing what we have.’
‘What we have is love. But love must become fruitful, or it loses itself. I don’t mean having babies – God, we’ve all had too many of those – I mean just being relaxed, and right, and, you know, with a blessing. Does “blessing” seem silly to you?’
‘Can’t we give each other the blessing?’
‘No. For some reason it must come from above.’
Above them, in a sky still bright though the earth was ripening into shadow, an aeroplane hung cruciform, silver, soundless. He put his arm lightly around her shoulders and looked at her in a different mood; his face broke into its fatherly smile, forgiving, enveloping. He said, ‘Hey’ and looked at his knees. ‘You know, I can sit here with you and talk about loss, about my losing you,and us losing our love, but I can do it only because you’re with me, so it doesn’t seem serious. When I have lost you, when you’re not there, it’s a fantastic ache. Just fantastic. And everything that keeps me from coming to you seems just words.’
‘But it’s not just words.’
‘No. Not quite, I guess. Maybe our trouble is that we live in the twilight of the old morality, and there’s just enough to torment us, and not enough to hold us in.’
The timbre of his voice, dipping towards some final shadow, chilled her. She moved forward, out from under his arm, stood up, inhaled, and let her mind expand into the landscape. ‘What a beautiful long day’ she said, trying to recapture their pleasure in discovering this place.
‘Almost the longest of the year,’ he said, rising with the pert little dignity he put on when he felt rebuffed. ‘I can’t remember if the days are drawing in now, or still opening up.’ He looked at her, imagined she didn’t understand, and explained, ‘The solstice.’ Both laughed, because he had explained the obvious.
They returned to the waiting room and found it still full. The five-fifteen had departed. The aroma of hot dogs had intensified; it was suppertime. The three young people behind the counters had grown bored with the indefatigable emergency. They passed wisecracks back and forth between them, shrugged a great deal, and did not so much answer as indulge the angry press of anxiety before them. The girl with white hair was sipping coffee from a mug displaying the airline insignia. Jerry asked her if the six o’clock section was ready yet.
‘We have not received word, sir.’
‘But you said an hour ago there would be one.’
‘It will be announced, sir, as soon as definite word is received.’
‘But we have to get home. Our – baby-sitter has to go to a dance.’ How like Jerry Sally thought, to lie, when he did lie, so badly. A dance on Tuesday night? She and the girl looked at each other, and Jerry, exposed between them, nakedly asked the girl, ‘Is there any hope?’
‘We have requested a section from the head office and are awaiting word,’ the girl said, and turned away to sip her coffee in privacy.
Jerry looked so grim that Sally told him, ‘I’m hungry’ hoping to elicit one of his rude friendly jokes about her appetite. But
Similar Books
