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out, but he's got no call to spoil your day—"
My day wasn't spoiled. I was concerned about John, but we drove back to town with the top rolled up, and when we reached home it was Philip, with his fair skin and his light hair, who was sunburned, and I who was tired. Tired, and wonderfully happy. I'd had a whole long, perfect day with John; even if I never saw him again, it would be something to remember.
That was the sort of thing I told myself often in the weeks that followed. I saw John nearly every night, sometimes alone, sometimes with Philip, sometimes in a foursome with Philip and another girl. And every night I told myself that I must not depend upon his calling me the next day, that I must not fall in love with him. John would certainly be sent away eventually, and I didn't want to be left as other girls had been left — not quite sure of his love for me, not quite sure of my love for him.
And then, suddenly, John and Philip were talking about returning to active duty. I thought that they were joking at first, because the subject came up so casually, when we were in a restaurant one night, having a snack after the movies. "You're in luck," Philip was saying. "They'll never send you to the Pacific. You'll probably be teaching at a nice cozy school right here at home."
John shook his head. "I wouldn't like that. I'll never make a teacher. I'll put in a bid for Alaska first."
"Alaska!" Philip hooted. "You're a couple of years too late, son. Besides, you won't have anything to say about it. You'll go where they tell you — "
Coffee spilled as I set my cup back
on its saucer. They were serious. "How — how soon do you expect to go?" I asked.
"Maybe a week," said John. "Maybe ten days. It's not at all certain, Beth."
I wasn't reassured. A week — ten days at the most — and then he would be gone! I'd known all along of course, that John would have to leave Corona, but I hadn't expected it to be soon. Why, we had hardly any time left at all. . . . We said good night to Philip at the restaurant, and then John and I walked home — silently, because for once we didn't seem to have much to say to each other.
At the door I held out my hand. "Well . . . goodbye," I said. I'd meant to say good night, but the stiff, heavy words came out of their own accord.
GOODBYE?" John repeated. "I haven't gone yet, honey. And besides, I'm coming back."
"You are?" I said doubtfully.
John laughed, and the laugh broke on an odd note of tenderness. "I am," he assured me, and then he put his arms around me, and I lifted' my lips for his kiss.
"You kept me waiting a long time," he said finally, huskily.
I nodded against his shoulder. "I was afraid."
"Afraid! Of what?"
I didn't know, now. Held close in John's arms, all of my doubts and hesitancies seemed silly. "I mean," I said, "I wanted to be sure."
He looked at me gravely, searchingly. "Are you sure now?"
"Oh, yes," I said. "Very sure — "
_And I was. I was happier that night than ever before in my life, too happy to sleep. Dawn lighted the windows
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