Aberration of Starlight

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I never dreamed when I saw you get out of the car that day — I remember you were wearing a knockout polka-dot dress — that we, that I, would feel this way. I mean, feel the way about you, I do.

Poppa will definitely warm up to you. He’s all discombobulated with Momma dead just six months. Don’t worry, please Tom, about Poppa.

I’m embarrassed to say, but I’ve been having trouble sleeping since the other night we walked back from the Hi-Top.

Of course I can go out with you! What makes you think I can’t go out with who I please, socially? My God, Tom, if you think Poppa’s such a tyrant …

We really have a barrel of laughs, Billy and I. He’s a swell kid. He reminds me so much, more and more, of my Tommy. I wish you could meet him.

Oh Tom, I feel like a high-school girl with her first crush. My first real crush was on a boy I worked with just out of high school. In a bank. He was full of fun. I feel just like that, but more.

But what about your father? My God, Marie, it’s been almost three weeks you’ve been here and the old man’s hardly spoken a civil word to me. When we play croquet even he won’t talk unless he absotively has to. Can you maybe give him the lowdown that I’m not a deadbeat? He treats me like I’m contagious.

When you mention the other night, Tom … you make me blush. The mother of a ten-year-old boy. Blushing.

God, how I’d love to take you out stepping. You think you and me might go dancing this Saturday night? They’ve got Red Nichols and

His Five Pennies at the WigWam all weekend. You think you and me, I mean, us, not a gang.

I’ve always loved that dress. I’ve been told it’s very becoming on me. But I’ve always looked good in blue. If I do say so myself.

Just some privacy! Some time together. And some privacy. Jesus H. Christ. I feel like we’re in a store window. Or a goldfish bowl.

I have to admit, Tom, when you came to the top of the porch steps with your book and pipe, well …

I toss and turn. I get up and smoke. All I can think about is you and the way, the other night …

I haven’t been to the WigWam in years. It was always a swell place. I’d love to go!

Really, Marie, really. Really, I never thought I’d ever feel this way again. After all the misery and heartaches with my wife, well, let’s leave her out of this, but I never dreamed I’d ever look twice at another woman. But you … you’re special. You’re just swell.

Tom. That’s funny! That’s so funny. The same thing crossed my mind. The tricks life plays. Suppose you were that teller?

If you only knew how much I want, right this minute, to kiss you and kiss you, oh, this is one hundred per cent nuts.

Yes, it would be lovely to meet him, he must be a little gentleman. I’m afraid that Billy is no gentleman, but he adores you. He looks up to you. I’ve done my best to try and breed some manners in him.

Good? You’re an eyeful in that dress. You’re an eyeful in anything.

Well then, let’s make it definite for Saturday night. I’d love it!

I was thinking, Marie, how my life would have been if I only met you twelve years ago. Oh, that kind of stuff is a lot of bushwa, I know, but still …

The fields were so quiet with nothing but the crickets and the fireflies. I felt like, this is silly, but I felt like we were in a movie.

The one thing I was hoping and praying was that you wouldn’t think I was just being a fresh guy. All hands. But you were so gorgeous.

I haven’t been sleeping well either. I feel like I’m walking on air.

Even that first day when you came in from the station, your father … if looks could kill!

I just hope that nobody notices how I, you know, look. I have the crazy idea that everybody can see right through me and how I feel. That Helga is the worst, what a busybody. If she gets Poppa’s ear with her gossip!

He saw exactly how much I was admiring you and he didn’t like it one little bit. Not a bit! I noticed it right away, more of a feeling. But it was right there. Still is right there.

It was like being on some road in a strange place. And I’ve been coming up here almost my whole life, long before I was married. Years before.

I got up that night and stood at the window like a damn fool for an hour at least, three o’clock in the morning. Thinking and thinking about you and knowing you were just down the hall. I swear to God, Marie, I almost went down and knocked on your door.

I can’t remember the last time I was at the WigWam but it’s always been a lovely place, a very nice class of people. They keep the riffraff out.

I guess you’ve been on that road with other people? I mean, your husband? I don’t know why, but I feel so godawful jealous of him.

An eyeful in anything? Not in that old-maid’s bathing suit from when Napoleon was a cadet. Don’t say a word! You don’t have to be polite.

I’ll dust off the old perambulator and we’ll pull up there like a couple of swells. Put on the ritz a little. I’ll even wear my din-din coat.

I feel just as crazy as you. I want to do the same thing, but I don’t think the Sapurtys over there would appreciate us spooning on the church steps, do you? They don’t still say spooning, do they?

On you, on you you don’t even notice it’s old-fashioned.