now,â I said forlornly. âThereâs nothing to wait here for any more.â
He got up and came outside with me. He said, âIâll take you downstairs and put you in a taxi. Do you want Mort or the girl to ride home with you to your place?â
âNo,â I said. âIâll be all right. Iâll have to get used to going around alone from now on, I guess.â
After heâd closed the cab door on me and given the driver my address, and just as he was about to turn away I reached out quickly through the open window and clutched him by the sleeve. âWhen? Tell me the date.â
âNow, why do you want toââ?â he protested.
I wouldnât let go his arm. âIâve got to know. Please tell me.â
âThe week of May sixteenth.â
I sank back against the seat. And all the way home the thought that rode with me was: âIâm only twenty-two, and yet theyâre going to make me a widow in less than three months.â
4
FAREWELL SCENE
I T â S HARD TO SAY GOOD-BY FOR GOOD AT ANY TIME OR ANY place. Itâs harder still to say it through a meshed wire. It crisscrossed his face into little diagonals, gave me only little broken-up molecules of it at a time. It stenciled a cold, rigid frame around every kiss. And nothing should come between the kisses of a man and his wife.
He said things that went right through me. âEveryoneâs entitled to be forgiven at least once. Even a dog; they give a dog three bitesâââ
âYou are, you were, you have been, long ago, oh, long ago.â
âThat was justâwell, it must have been one last wild oat left over. I would have been such a good husband fromâthen on. If they wouldâve only let me. I would have been the best-behaved guy anyone ever had around her. I would have brought you candy or flowers every night when I came home and I wouldâve never kicked about the coffee any more.â
âDonât,â I sobbed. âYouâll bring me flowers; youâll bring me candy; youâll kick about the coffee all you want, all you want. You will, you will again, youâll see.â
He smiled as though he had his doubts. âBut in case, in case I donât, afterward, after itâs overâAngel Face, you wonât let anyone else bring you flowers home at night or kick about the coffee, will you? Donât let anyone elseâI know youâre young yetâbut that belongs to me.â
âNever,â I panted despairingly, ânever anyone else but you. Itâll be you or no one at all. Kiss me again. Again. Again. Oh, just once more. Another. They donât stay on . Kirk, how can we make them last?â Forever is such a long time.
âThereâs something else I want to tell you. Iâve always wanted to, ever since that night. This is my last chance; I have to now; thereâs only a minute left. You remember that night?â
How could I ever forget it?
âI only went there to tell her I was backing out. That the trip was off. Even the first time, at two. Before I knew what had happened, before I knew it had been taken out of my hands. Iâd been thinking it over. I knew it was you, had always been you, would always be you. The other thing was just a week-end spree, a binge, no different from a kid playing hooky from school for one afternoonâand coming home all rashed up with poison ivy afterward, so he donât do it again in a hurry! Only, I was supposed to meet her at the station, and I couldnât just let her stand there waiting and not show up. I didnât want to do that to her; she was a woman, after all. So I went over there to try to break it to her ahead of time. No one answered at two, the first time I was there. I went back to the office and I tried to reach her on the phone a couple of times in between. Then when I still couldnât get her I went back again at six, when I