October 22, 1915
“You’re writing everything we say in your diary.”
“Not everything.”
“Julius you are a burglar of conversations,” Corina teased.
“It helps me remember.”
“Good, bad and sad?”
“Yes, all of it, I guess.”
The full moon rose above the mountains and illuminated Corina’s Garden, now nipped by frost. Odd shadows of stalks and wilted leaves danced on the exposed ground with the gentle breeze. We sat in her love swing. I am not sure why she calls it that. I do know she loves that swing. She pushed her feet against the planks of the porch, and we swayed back and then forth, together. In the evening quiet, the baby slept, and she snuggled close to me. One side of me was cool and the other warmed by her closeness from shoulder to knee. She took my hand in hers, placed it on her thigh and sighed.
“Oh Julius, why did we allow ourselves to be in this situation? If we had only talked. If we shared our love earlier, we wouldn’t have this problem.”
“If a frog had wings, he wouldn’t bump his bottom every time he jumped.” She smiled.” Du Bois wants to travel to Honolulu in January,” I added.
“Please tell me you’re not going with him. Tell me you’re not leaving me and the baby.”
“I’m staying, at least for a while.”
“How long?”
“I don’t know.”
“I wrote to my mother months ago hoping she could send money to pay off JJ and get him out of our lives. My stepfather would not allow it.” She said, “I’m struggling to make the balance. I saved $500, I advanced him about $250 and he squandered it. I need another $250.”
“A thousand dollars, you could buy a new, really slick, Maxwell 25 Roadster automobile for $825 and have money left over.”
She ignored my suggestion, “I have bearer bonds, but it will take until summer for enough coupons to mature.”
“Does he know you have the bonds? They’re the same as cash.”
“No, I put them in a safety deposit box at the bank. I could run whiskey during Prohibition, or you could.”
I ignored her suggestion with a snort, “The tangled web we weave, when we wish to deceive.”
“I wish not to deceive. Rather, I fancy paying him to leave.”
I smiled.
“He’s in Denver.” I just looked at her. “I guess the timing is bad to finally ask you to spend the night.”
I smiled again. “I’m tangled in your web, you know.”
“I know,” she moaned softly.
I kissed her and admired her undaunted spirit. We held hands and looked at the full moon for a long time. Then I walked home thinking that was a lot of money to come up with, and I do not have it.