most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he said.
She responded lightly, “Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder.”
“Ah, don’t be flippant, Connie. Let’s get out of here. Can’t talk in this place.”
When they were in the car, he commanded, “Now listen to me.” He grasped her two hands. “Listen. They’re finally transferring me to the New York office, and I can leave next week. But I don’t want—I can’t go without you, Connie. I’m in love with you. I never thought—I mean, you read about these things, but they never made sense, at least to me, they didn’t. That a person could feel the way I do now, and be so sure of wanting to spend the rest of his life with someone! And yet I’m more sure about this than I’ve ever been about anything. What about you, Connie? Can you love me? Can you marry me?”
How could she not love a man who looked at her, whotouched her, as if she were the most precious object ever made? The moment was brilliant, exquisite, and filled with a kind of awe. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears.
“Oh, yes,” she said. “Oh, yes.”
After a few minutes he released her and turned on the motor. “I want to get you home because I’m going to pick you up early tomorrow morning. You’ve got to meet my parents.”
“Have you said anything to them?”
“No. There wasn’t anything to say without knowing your answer.”
She felt a small chill of dismay. “What if,” she asked, speaking carefully, “they don’t like me?”
“Oh, they will. When they see you—”
“Maybe I’m not what they expected for you.”
“But you are. Connie darling, you’re a beautiful lady. So fine—it shows in everything you do.”
“But if they still shouldn’t want me?”
“Then no matter. I want you.”
In front of Connie’s house they kissed again. The night was calm and bright. When, still held against his warm chest and shoulder, she opened her eyes, she saw that the sky was filled with stars. It seemed as if she had never seen so many before. Surely they were a good omen.
“I hate to leave you like this,” Richard whispered. “I wish I could walk in that door with you right now and stay.”
She giggled. “The Raymonds would probably drop dead of shock if they found you in my room in the morning.”
“That’s not the only reason. We could have had my house all to ourselves and done anything. But somehow I couldn’t ask you, and I wouldn’t ask you now. I guess I knew from the start that you weren’t going to be any one-night stand or anything temporary. I guess I’m just old-fashioned, Connie.”
She giggled again. “You’re from another century, darling.”
“As long as you approve of me.”
“I approve of you.”
“Then I’ll be here early. Nine-thirty? That’ll give me time to tell my folks first.”
She was too overwhelmed to sleep. Consuelo Tory, she thought. She sat down on the bench before the dressing table and stared into the mirror. Astonished eyes stared back at her. Why me? they asked. How can it be possible to get what one wants so easily, so soon? People always tell me life isn’t like that.
On the back of the envelope that lay there she wrote,
Consuelo Osborne Tory
, reflecting on the elegance of that name engraved in navy-blue script on a pale blue paper. Then, after tearing the paper into pieces too small for Mrs. Raymond to decipher, she threw them into the wastebasket and prepared for bed.
Disconnected shreds and fragments floated through her head. Tomorrow’s dress: a white silk shirt and pleated skirt with black-and-white shoes and a flat black taffeta bow at the nape of her neck would be right, refined and demure. The wedding ring: Dare she ask for a diamond band? No, ask for nothing; just be delighted with anything you get. That day at his house the dessertplates were lovely, a single dark blue flower on a pale yellow ground. Lovely. I wish I knew where to get them. Eddy will be amazed when he hears. We’ll be seeing
She responded lightly, “Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder.”
“Ah, don’t be flippant, Connie. Let’s get out of here. Can’t talk in this place.”
When they were in the car, he commanded, “Now listen to me.” He grasped her two hands. “Listen. They’re finally transferring me to the New York office, and I can leave next week. But I don’t want—I can’t go without you, Connie. I’m in love with you. I never thought—I mean, you read about these things, but they never made sense, at least to me, they didn’t. That a person could feel the way I do now, and be so sure of wanting to spend the rest of his life with someone! And yet I’m more sure about this than I’ve ever been about anything. What about you, Connie? Can you love me? Can you marry me?”
How could she not love a man who looked at her, whotouched her, as if she were the most precious object ever made? The moment was brilliant, exquisite, and filled with a kind of awe. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears.
“Oh, yes,” she said. “Oh, yes.”
After a few minutes he released her and turned on the motor. “I want to get you home because I’m going to pick you up early tomorrow morning. You’ve got to meet my parents.”
“Have you said anything to them?”
“No. There wasn’t anything to say without knowing your answer.”
She felt a small chill of dismay. “What if,” she asked, speaking carefully, “they don’t like me?”
“Oh, they will. When they see you—”
“Maybe I’m not what they expected for you.”
“But you are. Connie darling, you’re a beautiful lady. So fine—it shows in everything you do.”
“But if they still shouldn’t want me?”
“Then no matter. I want you.”
In front of Connie’s house they kissed again. The night was calm and bright. When, still held against his warm chest and shoulder, she opened her eyes, she saw that the sky was filled with stars. It seemed as if she had never seen so many before. Surely they were a good omen.
“I hate to leave you like this,” Richard whispered. “I wish I could walk in that door with you right now and stay.”
She giggled. “The Raymonds would probably drop dead of shock if they found you in my room in the morning.”
“That’s not the only reason. We could have had my house all to ourselves and done anything. But somehow I couldn’t ask you, and I wouldn’t ask you now. I guess I knew from the start that you weren’t going to be any one-night stand or anything temporary. I guess I’m just old-fashioned, Connie.”
She giggled again. “You’re from another century, darling.”
“As long as you approve of me.”
“I approve of you.”
“Then I’ll be here early. Nine-thirty? That’ll give me time to tell my folks first.”
She was too overwhelmed to sleep. Consuelo Tory, she thought. She sat down on the bench before the dressing table and stared into the mirror. Astonished eyes stared back at her. Why me? they asked. How can it be possible to get what one wants so easily, so soon? People always tell me life isn’t like that.
On the back of the envelope that lay there she wrote,
Consuelo Osborne Tory
, reflecting on the elegance of that name engraved in navy-blue script on a pale blue paper. Then, after tearing the paper into pieces too small for Mrs. Raymond to decipher, she threw them into the wastebasket and prepared for bed.
Disconnected shreds and fragments floated through her head. Tomorrow’s dress: a white silk shirt and pleated skirt with black-and-white shoes and a flat black taffeta bow at the nape of her neck would be right, refined and demure. The wedding ring: Dare she ask for a diamond band? No, ask for nothing; just be delighted with anything you get. That day at his house the dessertplates were lovely, a single dark blue flower on a pale yellow ground. Lovely. I wish I knew where to get them. Eddy will be amazed when he hears. We’ll be seeing
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