As usual, Dart’s day began in the afternoon. Upon waking, he decided to tackle the job of cleaning the ceiling wallpaper in the living room. It was a hot and muggy day, making the task more difficult. Although the ceiling looks a bit better, it doesn’t really look good.
“Now, just as sure as we get our slip covers washed, our walls cleaned, and our floors scrubbed, your parents won’t come. It’s lucky that we’re anticipating their visit, though, or our house would never get a thorough spring cleaning.”
He guesses it’s about time to build an Ark. He wrote to Dot’s mother last night saying that if it doesn’t stop raining soon, when she comes out for a visit, Dart will meet her at the Ohio line with a boat. “We had a nice shower this afternoon. Somebody forgot to pull the plug out of Superior Ave. and it was flooded in about three minutes. I was out in it getting a quarter pound of butter. As is customary with these showers, someone also forgot to turn the water off and I don’t know where the valve is. Consequently, I had my choice of strokes to use when I went to the store. I still prefer my back float with frog kick. Quite relaxing.”
He tells a silly story about bowling with Homer. He claims to have done quite well, leaving all those little ‘vases’ standing at the end of the alley.
It’s already time to draw another $20 from his savings account and he’s shocked how fast that money goes. When he begins receiving his $65 a month from the GI Bill, he’ll have to put himself on a strict budget. After paying for a streetcar pass, insurance premium, lunches and dates, he’s hoping to put at least $10 in the bank each month.
Thinking about the letter he wrote the other night to his Treasure Island buddy, he hopes he didn’t do anything wrong. He sure hopes Jack Carty made it through his battles unscathed. He’d hate to hear otherwise, as he once did when he asked Mrs. Carle how Art was doing.
“Last night was so warm and lovely that I was really sorry I hadn’t gone to the picnic with you. Something about the gentle breeze was so caressing that I could almost feel us in each other’s arms. It was soft, and warm, and sweet-smelling, just as refreshing as you are. I love to look in your eyes, to watch your smile. I like to watch you when you don’t know I’m watching; to see your expressive face. I like to watch your face light up quickly. I want to see your shy expression when I whisper nice little truths about you, and other people are near. You always seem to be afraid other people will hear me. What if they do? I want the world to know I love you. I want them to know that I think you’re the sweetest girl in the world, the prettiest girl I’ve ever known, the only girl I’ve ever known that I’d be satisfied with as a wife. Now I know why the other girls I’ve known don’t hold a candle to you for personality, agreeable traits or general appearance. I like your choice of clothes. I like to hear your sweetly musical voice when you chirp little songs, or when you sing the sweeter ones in my ear when we drive. I long to be hearing your cheerful whistling, your hearty laugh. I want to do dishes with you and to wrestle with you the way we did in the basement the last time you were here. I want to take long, intimate walks with you, to dance with you, to bowl, to listen to music, to do every job I have, with you as my real, constant companion, not just the imaginary one you are now, as I go about my work. Can I stand it for another week until I hear your voice and see your gorgeous face – until I see you, vibrant with happy energy?”
# # #
Dot seems to be in sagging spirits today. Mostly, she’s down on herself. She’s disgusted with what she predicts her grades will be, and beating herself up for not tying harder or studying more. I suspect that, as usual, she’ll do better than she thinks.
She hopes that Fred will benefit from rubbing elbows with “the common man” at Cleveland College. After all, he’s still young enough to change his outlook, especially when he has Dart as a positive influence
Dot’s mother has written to say that El is available to be Dot and Dart’s chaperone at Sunapee this September. Meanwhile, Ruth is visiting her Wellesley roommate Bonnie at the inn she owns in New Hampshire and will then go to the Lake to help open up the cottage for the summer.
She announces bitterly that Dart needn’t go to any more trouble cleaning his house because her mother isn’t coming to Ohio. Dot doesn’t see how she can say that she can’t spare the time or the money to make the trip when she’s spending two weeks away from home with Bonnie and at Lake Sunapee. Besides, when Dot told her mother that she was saving money to pay for the trip out here, her mother wouldn’t hear of it! Why is her mother more interested in seeing Bonnie, whom she’s seen more recently than her own daughter? “I suppose it’s not my place to wonder the why of things, but I often do, nonetheless. I’m seriously considering staying in Ohio until next Christmas. In fact, I’d probably stand a much better chance of getting the family out here if I never went home again. ‘Course now I’m talking through my hat, but I’m bitter about the whole set-up.”
I love her sassiness in the next paragraph. “So you and Homer have come to the conclusion that girls are easily led astray. And did you discuss the male population? Seems to me I’ve heard you mention a couple of questionable characters of that sex also. However, if it’s a guarantee you want, I can positively promise you that you won’t have any girl-babies after we’re married. (I might, though.) Boys appeal to me much more than girls, too.” (Gee, thanks, Mom!)
She sets Dart straight about her taking Mid’s sister to the movies, saying it was what anyone would have done to make a stranger feel at home. The only thing special Dot did was to pay for the movie. She accuses Dart of bestowing her with much more noble and gracious character traits than she actually possesses because he is in love with her. “You’ll find, Dear, that as you get to know me better, there are very few things, if any, that are out of the ordinary. I hate to disillusion you, Darling, but don’t be too disappointed in me when you find that I have more than any one person’s share of faults.”
The “brief” note she promised at the beginning has come to an end, and she must sleep.