Dart was in a tinkering mood today. He began by hooking Burke’s record player to the radio, so now the records will play through a better speaker. In the process, he discovered one of the problems with the family’s large record player in the radio cabinet – a fractured wire. He was able to patch up that part, but the motor that turns the table still sounds like a cement mixer. All of this was to prepare for dance practice when Dot visits. He’s sure they’ll be happy with the quieter sound produced by Burke’s machine, because they’ll want the music to be soft, low, and sweet, won’t they?

Next, he turned his attention to his little model steam engine. It’s been a work-in-progress for four years. Today, he got the motor running, but still hasn’t figured out how to attach the wheels. That problem will keep for another day.

With no build-up or introduction he announces, “You’re not going to like me. I’m getting awfully cynical. There’s too much wrong in the world, and all I do about it is talk in a back-handed manner. I gripe about people being cynical, yet I catch myself being often worse than those I condemn. I guess when I get so disgusted with the world that I even include myself in my disgust, things are getting mighty bad. Mighty bad!”

If her mother decides to come to Cleveland, there’ll be some serious scurrying around the Peterson apartment: windows and slipcovers to wash, kitchen and furniture to paint, wallpaper to clean, and much more. They’d better get started, just in case.

He wants Dot to keep in mind that he’s available to help her pack and move out of the Olin’s house. She can store as much as she wants at his apartment. He’s missing her so much this week that he now regrets declining her invitation to the PE department picnic.

He confesses that he’s in one of his discouraged moods, so he’d better sign off for now. Still, it’s as hard for him to close a letter as it is for them to say good night when they’re together.

#          #          #

Dot writes that by the time she’d finished work and studied biology last night, she was too tired to write. Now she’s waiting for her bio class to begin and has time to start a letter.

A few weeks ago there were 8 waitresses in the Cottage Room at Robin Hood. Now, there are just two, so she really had to hustle last night. No wonder the poor kid is tired all the time.

In class this morning, they are scheduled to discuss the theory of evolution. She’s nervous, but interested, too. Although there are often bitter arguments during discussions on this subject, she likes to hear what all sides have to say. She’s still on the fence about it because she wants to believe in the Bible, but Darwin’s arguments go a long way in explaining lots of things. She’s decided to wait until she has more life experience before she makes up her mind on the matter. (I imagine Mom might be a little surprised to read these words. Will she remember ever giving serious thought to possibility that evolution wasn’t fact?)

She got a letter from her mother yesterday with some encouraging information. Ruth had been invited to a luncheon in Boston for some of her college classmates and she had declined because it conflicted with the time that Dot wanted her and Arthur to come to Ohio and bring her home for the summer. As a result, the lunch date was changed to May 27, leaving open the possibility that Dot’s mother and/or father may still decide to make the trip to Cleveland. They haven’t actually said they were coming, but Dot is hopeful.

Now, some further news on the Phyll/Al/Homer situation. Phyll has asked Dot to ask Dart if he will call Al and let him know that Friday is not a good time to come to Kent. Phyll has to big exams to prepare for, plus her parents are coming to visit. The message is that she’ll let him know about the following week because she wants Al to meet her folks. Still no word on whether she told him about her date with Homer, but maybe that’s all it took for her to decide to give Al a second look. Gee, I think we could all benefit from a scorecard on this sage.

It’s a beautiful day in Kent and Dot hopes the PE picnic tomorrow will be the same. She sure wishes he could be there with her. Today in softball she caught a tough fly ball and made a double out (not that Dart will know what either of those things is), and her teacher was quite impressed. “I’m very proud of myself, but I couldn’t do it again in a million years.”

Time for class to start, so she wraps this up.

Dart spent this Decoration Day doing not much of anything:  Wrote to a classmate of his from Treasure Island; watched East Cleveland’s puny parade; puttered in the basement where he managed to drip molten metal on his arm; read a mystery, listened to records; gobbled up some of his mother’s fresh-baked cake. What he really wishes he’d done was spend the day with Dot at the picnic.

On a recent phone call, she’d mentioned having falling 500 pages behind in history reading. He says he hopes she caught up, and then commented that 500 pages of Naval history must surely be deader than an embalming lesson.

Then  he reveals another reason why Dot loves him so much; his ability to accept his own faults, and apologize, all the while expressing his love and showing a  bit of humor. “I’m sorry I took the wrong attitude about your kidding that day, in the basement. I’m really convinced, but I can’t quite realize that a girl could be nutty enough to like trains. But you fell for me, too, so that doesn’t make you so smart, does it?”

He admits that her “no” on Saturday night disappointed him, but it’s what he wanted from her. But he’s not angry. “If I’d been angry, I’d not be worth a thing. I said I wouldn’t, if you said no, and the answer was up to you. I’m glad it worked out as it did.”

He tells her he misses her, and bids her good night.

#          #          #

Dot is rushed, frazzled and overwhelmed with all she has to do. Hearing Dart’s voice tonight made things s little better. “I’m afraid I didn’t sound very cordial over the phone, did I? I’m getting more disagreeable every day. Maybe it’s worry over exams. Whatever it is, I hope it’s gone by a week from tomorrow night.” The PE picnic was loads of fun, but she couldn’t stop thinking about her history test. They played 20 innings of softball, and naturally, her team won.

“I love you very, very much, Dart. I’ve missed you so much my heart actually aches when I think about it. Can it be that in a year we won’t have to endure these long separations? I surely hope so ‘cuz I can’t stand it much longer. Thanks for being everything you are, and above all, thanks for asking me to be your wife.”

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.