I just read what I wrote above, and it all sounds insufficient. None of it quite conveys the sentiment of my heart. I think what I mean to say is that I think I am growing in love with you a little more each day.
Forever yours,
John
CHAPTER THIRTY
1916
Dear John, Rest assured that when I retrieved your letter, it was just as you had left it and quite readable.
You said that you think you are growing in love with me a little more each day. Your use of the word “think” troubles me, as I do not want to have this kind of conversation with a man who is not entirely sure. When you know for certain that you are growing in love with me, we can continue this discourse.
Sincerely, Alice
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
1916
The next day when no one else was in sight, John strode out to Alice’s hiding place in the trees, reached up, and pulled out a sheet of paper anchored by the metal box. His hands shook with anticipation as he unfolded her letter, and then, upon reading her words, he burst out laughing.
She was clever, so clever. What other girl in the entire world would have caught the ambiguity in his sentence? Alice was unlike anyone else he’d ever met, smart as a whip but also caring, always happy, and ultimately surprising.
As for his letter, he’d only phrased it that way so as not to overwhelm her. He smiled, thinking how she’d turned the words back at him. Never mind. It was easy enough to set things straight.
He went back to the barn and got his writing things out of his trunk. Dipping the nub of his pen in his inkwell, he added his correction below her words.
Dearest Alice,
I am certain I am growing in love with you more each passing day. Please tell me you feel the same way.
Yours forever,
John
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
1983
Joe and Kathleen began spending more time together in the evenings after the store closed and at lunchtime after his conveniently timed deliveries to the store. She’d made it known, however, that she had no interest in dating him. Upon hearing this, he pulled a sad face and said, “And here I thought Doris was going to be my biggest challenge this summer.”
She gave his shoulder a gentle push. “Just for the record, I talked to Doris, and she doesn’t want to date you either.”
He mimed a stab to the heart and followed it up by wiping away a nonexistent tear. “Poor me. Destined to die old and alone.”
“But not friendless,” she pointed out.
“Never friendless,” he agreed.
Joe good-naturedly accepted her terms, which simplified things greatly. She had the pleasure of spending time with him without worrying about the location of his hands or if things were moving too quickly. They were just friends. Marcia refused to acknowledge this friendship, or maybe she just didn’t understand it. Every time she saw Joe’s truck arrive, she’d announce, “Your boyfriend’s here.”
Kathleen’s standard response was, “He’s not my boyfriend,” which made Marcia smirk.
One time Marcia had answered by saying, “Anyone can see that Joe’s a fox. I mean, he’s not my type, but he’s really got the hots for you. I think you should just admit it and go with it.”
“There’s nothing to admit,” Kathleen said.
After that Marcia started singing the refrain from the Elvis song “Burning Love” every time Joe made a delivery.
If Joe noticed, he didn’t say anything.
The people in town, seeing them together so often, assumed they were dating as well. In conversations with others, Kathleen made a point of calling Joe her friend, not that it helped. Thinking about it made her sigh. Oh well, you couldn’t keep people from talking. Soon enough, the residents of Pullman would find something else to gossip about.
This evening, for the first time, they were going to a movie at the Victory Theater. After Kathleen locked up the shop, she set off down the sidewalk to the theater, where she found Joe waiting for her, his back against the brick exterior of the building, one knee bent with his foot flat against the wall. He had his trademark newsboy cap on along with the suspenders over a button-down shirt and the tan work pants he’d begun wearing instead of blue jeans. “Hey there,” she called out as she approached.
He doffed his cap. “Evening, ma’am.” He held up the tickets. “Took care of this ahead of time. Tickets for two to see Trading Places, the new smash film starring Eddie Murphy and Dan Aykroyd.”
“How much do I owe you?” she asked, taking her purse off her shoulder.
“Forget it. I’ve got it covered.”