this afternoon and soon as I finish that I'm leaving for Ohio to pick up my car. Let's talk now, while I can say it. I don't want to talk about love like a schoolboy, but well... Maybe I can say it this way: you wouldn't marry me before because you were afraid you'd have to support me for a while. But I wasn't sitting around on my lazy rusty-dusty, I wasn't trying to establish myself. But you wanted to hold out for a sure thing. I'm not saying this very clearly.”
“You certainly aren't! I don't know what's wrong with you, Touie. As for supporting a man, I did that once and—”
“That's what I'm trying to say: I'm not talking about a man, or a situation, I'm talking about you and me.”
“Whatever you're trying to say is over my head. Here I lose a day's pay to wait around for you and you don't come here and when I call you, you give me a lot of silly stuff!”
“It isn't silly. I've been thinking about this the last couple of days. The high point of a marriage can't be a new apartment or a fur coat or—”
“Have you turned sappy? All this talk about 1-o-v-e. What's wrong with you?”
What was wrong was I didn't have the guts to tell her the truth. I tried to think of the right words and all I could think of was a line from a song: you always hurt the one you love.... But I didn't love Sybil and she never loved me. Then I kept thinking of what she'd said about when a man can't find himself he found her. That was true. I had found myself, didn't...
“Touie? Did you hear me?”
“Yeah, I heard you. Look, I can't say what I want. I'll... eh... I'll send you a check tonight.”
“Just be sure you do! When you come to your senses, when you come back from Ohio, perhaps I'll let you call me and we'll talk about this when you've calmed down.”
“Sybil, I want us to be friends—always—but I don't know if we'll ever talk about this....”
“All this publicity has gone to your head. Send me my money and good- by!”
She hung up and I put the phone down and stretched out in bed. I knew how it would sound: I was giving her the brush now that I had it made. But how could I tell her I didn't have it made moneywise, as Kay would say, but in my mind? In my peace of mind?
I was too tired to think about it. I felt lousy—but not too lousy. I'd been trying to tell her what I'd known for the last six or seven hours.... When I drove the Jag back from Bingston I wouldn't be driving alone... I hoped.
