On his way home from prose workshop class this evening, Dart bought a pint of honeydew ice cream. He’s been hiccuping honeydew flavor ever since.
I’m relieved that he says he’s been in high spirits ever since he wrote what he calls “that bitterly despondent” letter. Maybe those letters serve to exorcise his demons. He’s been sticking to his schedule and has managed to complete most of his required work. Last night was his only serious breach of schedule when he stayed up until 4:00 typing a seriously overdue book report on The Scarlet Letter.
Again tonight, Miss Talmage read an essay he wrote before vacation. She had praise for it, but he only got a B+ on it. He hopes to re-work it and submit it for publication in the Skyline.
He had a nice chat with Elmer Manley today. Elmer’s wedding has been moved up to June 14th. He truly hopes that he and Dot can be friends with Elmer and Norma when they’re all married. Norma was a lifeguard at the beach last summer, so she and Dot might have love of water sports in common.
He wishes her the best of luck on her job search. He’s impressed with her varied employment background and her ease with finding jobs. He thinks all that bodes well for her job search in Cleveland. Even with all the job openings in the city, he has a hard time finding one he thinks he’d like.
Oh, how he’d love to be part of her little painting party. He loves working in congenial little groups like that. He remarks that it looks like Norman has shown himself to be a pretty regular guy, after all. I guess Norman was so quiet at first that no one in the boisterous, gregarious Chamberlain clan knew quite what to make of him, but they’ve warmed up to him now.
Not only does he look forward to working side-by-side with Dot on their apartment, but he wants to kiss away any of her tears, provide an understanding ear if she gets homesick, and give her therapeutic back rubs whenever the need arises. But, he chastises himself, this is supposed to be a cheerful letter to match the bright and beautiful spring day.
(“Darn these honeydew burps!”)
In her recent letter, Dot mentioned “unmentionables.” He’s curious if she’ll be getting any of “those strapless or wired jobs” If she does get any of the wired variety, he’ll be more than happy to fix any of their short circuits.
He begs forgiveness for his thick skull over the shower/umbrella thing, and he mourns the loss of his humor. Nowadays, he confesses, he has to be beaten over the head with a joke before he notices one.
After bringing himself back from a wonderful reverie about the many beautiful ways their wedding night might unfold, he admits it’s time for bed and he bids her good night, with lots of love.