Radio mirror (Jan-June 1948)

THIS is Joan Carter's story, and I would not tell it if I weren't certain that Joan has many sisters living in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, and Yazoo, Michigan, and Flagstaff, Arizona, and every other town and small city in the United States. It might as easily be the story of any one of them; it happens to be Joan's only because when she was twenty years old an uncle whom she hadn't ever seen died and left her a legacy of a thousand dollars. How wonderful to have a thousand dollars drop into your outstretched hands, to spend as you please! That's what Joan thought, and she was right — ^but it wasn't wonderfxil in just the way she thought it would be. She knew, fifteen minutes after the letter arrived telling her of the legacy, how she was going to spend it. She lived in a little Ohio town called Elmwood, and she had never traveled farther than Cincinnati. She had a father and mother and a brother, all of whom she loved, and there was an Elmwood boy named Curtis March who could make her go all warm and tingly simply by calling her up on the telephone and saying, "Doing anything tonight, Joannie? Then let's ride out to Monument HiU and look at the moon." Just the same, she knew how she intended to spend that money. "This is my big chance, Curt," she said solemnly. They were in Curt's car, on top of Monximent Hill, and the moon was watching them, for a change. "With a thousand dollars I can get to New York, and have enough to live on until I find a job. And it isn't even as if I didn't know anyone there. Ellen Lee's always writing and saying that if I ever come to New York I must be sure to stay with her and her husband — they've got a perfectly huge apartment on Central Park West, with tons of room. And they know all sorts of people, important people like radio stars and actors and novelists." Curt listened, his big hands resting lightly on the steering wheel, his eyes somber under their level brows, and finally he said something he'd wanted to say for quite a while. He had been waiting for the right time, and this certainly was A big, exciting city, isn't so much a place as it is a feeling. A feeling Joan couldn't give up, once she had discovered it about as wrong a time as there could be, but he had to say it anyway. "Don't go, Joannie. That is — don't go, planning to stay. For a little vacation, that's all right. But not to stay for good. You see — I've been thinking — ^well, I mean I've been hoping — we could be married pretty soon." He turned, taking his hands from the wheel and catching hers. "I love you, Joan, and — well, that's how it is." Because she was honest, Joan didn't try to act surprised. She said, "I know. Curt darling. And • I — I love you, too." "Then — !" Curt said triumphantly, catching her to him and kissing her. Joan closed her eyes, and for as long as the kiss lasted she was happy to stay there, in his arms, with only the moon watching. But then she pushed him gently away. "And I've thought about us being married, too," she said. "I'm stiU thinking about it. But we don't want to be stuck here in Elmwood all our hves. We don't want to be just ordinary small-toAAm people, never knowing anything, never — ^never really living. We're both smart. I don't mean to boast about myself, or to flatter you, but we are, and it's silly to pretend we aren't. We could get somewhere in New York if we tried. You could be a magazine writer or a reporter on a big newspaper, and I could — ^well," Joan said vaguely, "I could be a model or a (Continued on page 73) Dorothy Kilgallen, shown at home with her children, is heard Thurs., 10:45 A.M. EST on ABC, in Star Time with Dorothy Rilgalten 38