It’s a sweet opening passage for today’s letter, which I’ll copy here.
It seems from the tone of your letter the last couple of days that you miss me every bit as much as I miss you. It’s too bad we have to miss each other like that, but I’m glad we do. If we didn’t we wouldn’t be in love, and if we weren’t in love, that would be awful! Just the same, I’m looking forward to a time when we won’t miss each other. The time I’m looking for won’t be one when we aren’t in love, either. It’ll be a time when we can be as much in love as we darn well please, and if anyone says ‘BOO!’, we can ‘boo’ right back at ’em.
Mr. Carter launched back into a rough course load again this term. It’ll be much tougher than last time and Dart will have to work very hard, and mind his schedule carefully in order to succeed this time. He explains for the better part of two pages about all the work that’ll be required in American Lit and Journalism this term. Lots of outside reading, many papers, more tests. Even his psych class has three reports due based on outside reading, not to mention the continuous output required from his prose workshop class. What a semester he has!
Yes, he too is looking forward to a change in Dot’s last name. He agrees that Chamberlain is a fine name, but on her, he thinks Peterson will look better.
He’d gladly share his secret for saving so much money, but it’s really no secret. He simply has no time to spend any of it. He even had to miss out on seeing Henry V because he simply couldn’t spare the time. When his savings account reaches $300, he’ll open a checking account. Now he’ll await the check she sent for the penny fund and get that deposited.
There’s a chance Pop won’t have to have the serious operation the doctors were discussing last week.
Never failing to notice every detail when it comes to his Dot, Dart remarks that he’s noticed that her “clock” seems to be set for five weeks instead of the usual four. “If it keeps up at five weeks, it’ll work out for a visit just about the middle of June. Don’t worry, though, Honey. I’ll be content – very happily content – to take you any way you choose (or don’t choose) to be on that wedding day. After all, we’ve waited this long, and what’s four or five more days, even if we can say good night after we go to bed? All the same, I hope you won’t be having such a painful time of it, Darling.” Okay, does this not provide conclusive evidence that Dart G. Peterson, Jr. was one of the world’s most thoughtful and considerate men?
He wonders what he said in the final paragraphs of his 16-page letter that brought tears to her eyes.
Dot must have written to him about an idea for where they could stay on their wedding night. He tells her the “Old Hundred” sounded like a good spot and he wondered if she could find out if they needed a reservation. I had to smile at the multiple bold lines under the word “a” indicating his glee that two reservations would not be necessary. His razor sharp mind did not miss the fact that if the place was about an hour outside of Greenwich it would be about an hour closer to Sunapee.
He explained his health insurance policy, at her request. For $2.85 per quarter (!), he would get a semi-private room in a hospital, plus all tests, doctors, and other services within the hospital would be included. He can add a spouse (and full maternity coverage) for just a few pennies more. If her job will pay between $35 to $40 per week, they’ll have more income than many couples just starting out.
If the budget allows, he’d like to get their own phone, or at least an extension of their own. New phone lines are very hard to come by in Cleveland these days.
He’s happy they have a date for a walk in the snow someday. He’s also happy they enjoy the same things, and especially enjoy each other.
He warns her that building drawers is a tall order for an amateur carpenter like himself. He thinks they’ll have to make due with shelves for a while.
Oh, how he likes that question! The one she asked in her recent letter “I’m going to bed. Wanna come along?” He replies emphatically that he’d like nothing more, and adds, “I took a little nap today on the couch where you slept. I felt awfully empty not to hear you in the kitchen; not to have you come and sit on the edge of the couch. I miss you, Dot.”
Dart doesn’t write on the 12th but he’ll return with a nice letter on the 13th. I’ll see you back here then.