Radio Mirror: The Magazine of Radio Romances (Jan-June 1943)

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Suddenly I began to tremble, and my face burned hot, because I knew why I trembled — I remembered what I had taught myself to forget, the feeling of being in Jeff's arms, the wonderful, secret knowledge that I belonged to him. I lost myself completely in remembering, so that the long, endless afternoon sped, finally, until it was five o'clock and I awoke to the realization that Jeff had not come. I began mechanically to put away the things on my desk, to cover my typewriter, but I knew that I wouldn't go home. I would sit there until he came back, until time for the broadcast, if necessary. And all the while I told myself that I was a fool; I was acting like a woman whose lover had left her — hoping against hope that she will catch a glimpse of him, that he will have a kind word for her when they meet — and yet it was I who had done the leaving. And even now, I had a refusal ready for him when he should ask me to come back. IT five-twenty the telephone rang, ^* and it was Jeff, saying, "Look, you know I'm doing Ralph's show tonight? I'd better see a script, but if I come up after it, I won't have time for dinner. How about having dinner with me and bringing the script along?" "Why, I don't — " I began, but he cut in. "Don't stop to think," he warned. "Just slap on your hat and come along. Tell yourself it's the script I want and not you, Little One, and your conscience won't trouble you a bit. Chop House in fifteen minutes — right?" There was a definite click at the other end of the line. He hadn't given me a chance to say no. And it was the script he wanted. Or, at least, it was the script he talked about. And the Army. And the war he was sure we'd be drawn into soon. Then too soon it was time to go back to the station — and I realized that I had been having a good time, a wonderful time, that my laughter had mingled with Jeff's laughter, that I had found myself answering his foolishness in kind. That I had learned, somehow, in the time that we had been separated, how to talk to Jeff — too late, because it was all over now. Now he'd go to the station, and I would go home, and I would probably never see him again. And suddenly that was tragedy past all bearing. I slipped into my coat in silence and walked ahead of him out of the restaurant. I knew now, surely, that I still loved Jeff, and that I wanted him back. Jeff slipped a hand under my arm and steered me in the direction of the bus stop. "I'll leave you here, if you don't mind," he said, and his voice was tight and formal. "I'd better be getting to the station. Good-by, Little One." Oh, Jeff, don't say good-by to me — don't ever say good-by. For a moment I thought I had cried it aloud, but there was only silence between us. And then I did speak. I had to because I couldn't let him go. I tried to make it sound convincing. "Jeff, I'm afraid I have to go back to the station, too. I forgot to put the announcer's copy of the show in the book." "I could do that for you," he said slowly. I shook my head. "I can't lose my reputation as a super-secretary, and I really don't mind." Don't mind! I could no more have left him then than I could have killed myself on the spot. We crossed the street to catch a bus going in the other direction and sat in silence, like strangers, all the way to the station. Once we reached there, there was no time for any thinking except about the program. I got the script into the announcer's book, listened while the control man checked Jeff's voice. Then there was just five minutes left before he went on the air, and he turned to me to say, "Good-by again, Little One. You'll be gone when I come off." He hesitated a moment, looking down at me, and then he caught me to him and kissed me, and he turned and went into the studio. 1 WALKED slowly back to my office. Ralph's speaker was going — I had turned it on when we came in, to check the time. I heard the opening announcement for "A Word to the Wise," and the explanation about Jeff's being on the program tonight. Putting off the time when I must go, I powdered my nose, touched my lips with lipstick, straightened the alreadyneat top of my desk, re-stacked the papers in Ralph's file basket, put on my coat and buttoned it slowly up to my throat. I pulled on my gloves, easing them deliberately down on each finger, as if they had never been worn before, and then, feeling sick and lost, I knew that there was nothing more to do. I must go. It was as if I were shutting a door in Jeff's face, as I snapped off the loud speaker. I walked down the hall to the elevators as an old woman walks, putting one foot down deliberately before picking up the other. I could hear Jeff's voice again now, through the speaker at the far end of the corridor. I put out a finger to ring the elevator bell and let my hand fall again. I couldn't do it. I couldn't go home. It didn't matter how much my mind told me that I was being a fool. My heart drowned out whatever my mind said with its cry of Jeff, Jeff, Jeff! It didn't matter that he didn't want me. It didn't matter that I'd be, making a fool of myself. I turned and walked W-A-R-N-l-N-G Reserve Your Copy of Next Month's RADIO MIRROR TODAY! Paper restrictions now in force makes it utterly impossible for us to print enough copies of RADIO MIRROR to supply the great demand that exists for it. This means that many persons will not be able to secure their copies when they ask for them at the newsstands. Do not risk disappointment. Take steps now to prevent it by instructing your newsdealer to reserve your copy of next month's and succeeding issues. It will take only a moment of your time and will assure you of receiving your copy of RADIO MIRROR each month as issued. 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