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Authors: Billy Chitwood
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ring.
“Hello!” her voice was high pitched. She virtually squealed into the mouthpiece.
“Hi, Jenny, it's Jason. Am I calling at a bad time?”
Her heart leaped. “No, no, Jason. It's a good time. I mean, no, it's fine. How are you?”
“I'm okay, but you sound out of breath. Are you okay?”
“Oh, I'm good. Just soaking in the tub and rushed to get the phone. Did you call earlier? A few minutes ago?” She sat on the edge of the bed, pulling her robe more snugly to her.
“No, it wasn't I. Another admirer, my guess.”
“You would guess wrong, sir. I'm just fresh out of admirers. I was hoping you would call.”
“I meant to call sooner. A few things came up which needed to be worked out. I'm glad you were hoping for my call.”
“I'm glad that you're glad. Don't know if I should even tell you this, but when the phone rang earlier, while I was in my bath, and I didn't get to it in time, I was going to call you. But I had no number to call, and you are unlisted.”
“Well, we can surely rectify that immediately. Would you like my unlisted number?” He asked in a toying manner.
“Only if you want me to have it. It strikes me all of a sudden that I can be rather presumptuous.”
“Jenny, get a pen and paper.”
Jason gave Jenny his unlisted home number, his address, and his office number, then added for fun: “You may not be impressed but very few people have my home phone number. Grandma Myrena has it. Carlton has it, and there are times when I wish he didn't have it. My secretary has the number. Very few people have it.”
“Then I'm truly honored.”
“I'm honored that you're honored.”
They both laughed.
Jason continued, “I'm calling to see if you could possibly get the afternoon off tomorrow. I'd like to take you along to see 'Apple Brown Betty.' What do you think? Too short a notice?”
“No, it's not too short. My two meetings are in the morning so it should be okay. No, I know it's okay. It's very seldom I take an afternoon off and I never take sick days. I'm too good to the Stratford Agency. It's time for me to play hooky. What time are you thinking?”
“I can pick you up in front of your office building around noon. We can have lunch on the way out to Casa Grande. I know a great Chinese food place. You like Chinese fare?”
“Love it.”
“Then we're on for tomorrow. We'll have fun.”
“I know we will. That's because I find your company so enjoyable, Mr. Prince.” She veritably cooed into the phone.
“You're much too flattering and kind, Ms. Mason. But, listen, I do apologize for not calling you sooner. It was just that some things were … well, I'll tell you about it someday. You off to early bedtime?”
“Yes, but I doubt that I'll sleep very much.”
“And why is that?”
“Too excited about tomorrow, the afternoon part of tomorrow.”
“I'm excited about it, too, but you sleep. I don't want you sleepwalking as I'm showing you “Apple Brown Betty.'”
“I will sleep. Promise. See you tomorrow at noon in front of my building. I'll be waiting. And, thank you, Jason.”
“No, I thank you, pretty lady.”
Jenny sat for a long time after the call from Jason, looking out her bedroom window into the night sky. The moon had made its way around and its bottom arc was visible now just below the upper edge of the window pane. It was no longer 'lonely as Sunday.'
It was something else. She scanned her brain for an apt phrase that might sum up the warmth and wonder of her joy. Immediately, as though sped on the silent wind through the starry night to her waiting lips, it came. The phrase came. It was a phrase uttered by an obscure little silk-winding girl named Pippa in Robert Browning's poem called Pippa Passes : “God's in his heaven. All's right with the world.” Why that particular poem had come to Jenny, she could not say. She had studied England's most noteworthy Victorian poet in a favored college course and remembered the oft quoted line.
Yes, that
“Hello!” her voice was high pitched. She virtually squealed into the mouthpiece.
“Hi, Jenny, it's Jason. Am I calling at a bad time?”
Her heart leaped. “No, no, Jason. It's a good time. I mean, no, it's fine. How are you?”
“I'm okay, but you sound out of breath. Are you okay?”
“Oh, I'm good. Just soaking in the tub and rushed to get the phone. Did you call earlier? A few minutes ago?” She sat on the edge of the bed, pulling her robe more snugly to her.
“No, it wasn't I. Another admirer, my guess.”
“You would guess wrong, sir. I'm just fresh out of admirers. I was hoping you would call.”
“I meant to call sooner. A few things came up which needed to be worked out. I'm glad you were hoping for my call.”
“I'm glad that you're glad. Don't know if I should even tell you this, but when the phone rang earlier, while I was in my bath, and I didn't get to it in time, I was going to call you. But I had no number to call, and you are unlisted.”
“Well, we can surely rectify that immediately. Would you like my unlisted number?” He asked in a toying manner.
“Only if you want me to have it. It strikes me all of a sudden that I can be rather presumptuous.”
“Jenny, get a pen and paper.”
Jason gave Jenny his unlisted home number, his address, and his office number, then added for fun: “You may not be impressed but very few people have my home phone number. Grandma Myrena has it. Carlton has it, and there are times when I wish he didn't have it. My secretary has the number. Very few people have it.”
“Then I'm truly honored.”
“I'm honored that you're honored.”
They both laughed.
Jason continued, “I'm calling to see if you could possibly get the afternoon off tomorrow. I'd like to take you along to see 'Apple Brown Betty.' What do you think? Too short a notice?”
“No, it's not too short. My two meetings are in the morning so it should be okay. No, I know it's okay. It's very seldom I take an afternoon off and I never take sick days. I'm too good to the Stratford Agency. It's time for me to play hooky. What time are you thinking?”
“I can pick you up in front of your office building around noon. We can have lunch on the way out to Casa Grande. I know a great Chinese food place. You like Chinese fare?”
“Love it.”
“Then we're on for tomorrow. We'll have fun.”
“I know we will. That's because I find your company so enjoyable, Mr. Prince.” She veritably cooed into the phone.
“You're much too flattering and kind, Ms. Mason. But, listen, I do apologize for not calling you sooner. It was just that some things were … well, I'll tell you about it someday. You off to early bedtime?”
“Yes, but I doubt that I'll sleep very much.”
“And why is that?”
“Too excited about tomorrow, the afternoon part of tomorrow.”
“I'm excited about it, too, but you sleep. I don't want you sleepwalking as I'm showing you “Apple Brown Betty.'”
“I will sleep. Promise. See you tomorrow at noon in front of my building. I'll be waiting. And, thank you, Jason.”
“No, I thank you, pretty lady.”
Jenny sat for a long time after the call from Jason, looking out her bedroom window into the night sky. The moon had made its way around and its bottom arc was visible now just below the upper edge of the window pane. It was no longer 'lonely as Sunday.'
It was something else. She scanned her brain for an apt phrase that might sum up the warmth and wonder of her joy. Immediately, as though sped on the silent wind through the starry night to her waiting lips, it came. The phrase came. It was a phrase uttered by an obscure little silk-winding girl named Pippa in Robert Browning's poem called Pippa Passes : “God's in his heaven. All's right with the world.” Why that particular poem had come to Jenny, she could not say. She had studied England's most noteworthy Victorian poet in a favored college course and remembered the oft quoted line.
Yes, that
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