Dream When You're Feeling Blue Read Online Free Page A

courtesy of the missing windshield. Most times, though, they’d talk over the radio shows. Occasionally there was an argument, but of a friendly, swat-fly variety that always ended the same way. Frank would say, “Ah, I should have married that willowy blonde I used to see on the streetcar every morning. She could never keep her eyes off of me.” And Margaret would counter with “No doubt she was mesmerized by the breakfast crumbs on your face.
I
should have married Howard Kresge, he had such gorgeous curls. And I’ll bet he’s worth a million dollars by now.”
    They would sit silently for a while, Margaret rocking and knitting, Frank sucking at his pipe. And then they would forget about any argument and start talking again. Tonight, no doubt, they’d be discussing Louise’s engagement. There was some doubt about how Frank felt: he’d congratulated Louise, but he’d looked like an elephant was standing on his toe when he did so. As for Margaret, she couldn’t have been happier: she loved Michael like a son already.
    Kitty wondered how her parents would feel when she told them that she, too, was engaged. She hadn’t told her sisters yet; she wanted to surprise them with the ring.
    As though sensing her thoughts, Tish asked Louise, “So what do you think your ring will look like? I hope it’s a big diamond, emerald cut, just like Judy Garland’s.”
    “Round,” Kitty said. “More elegant.” She hoped hers was round. And she hoped it was big, too; Julian could afford it—or at least his parents could. She couldn’t wait to show her ring to the girls at the insurance company. Every morning, there was a big get-together before the typing and the filing began, all the women gathering near the watercooler to catch up on one another’s lives. Kitty had it all planned: just as they were ready to get down to work, she’d say, “Oh, girls? One last thing.” And then she’d hold up her hand. Tuesday morning, she’d do this, after having picked up the ring on Monday. She’d make sure she did a good manicure Monday night—Tish would help her. Although Tommy was also good at manicures, and he’d help anyone do anything.
    “I’m not going to get a ring,” Louise said. “We’re going to save for other things.”
    Tish looked up from the letter she was signing off on.
With hugs and kisses and lots of love,
she’d write. Next she’d put a big kiss mark on the page with red lipstick—she kept the tube handy on the kitchen table. She signed off that way to every guy on her list, even though her sisters had told her it was improper—a kiss made with an open mouth, no less! But now Tish was the one preaching propriety. “You have to have a ring!” she told Louise. “That’s what makes you engaged!”
    “It’s not the ring that makes you engaged,” Louise said. “It’s the promise.”
    “Welllll,” Tish said, and her voice was high and singsong. “I don’t
know.
A girl needs a
ring
to know that it is a
prom
ise. Or maybe the guy’s just
fool
ing.”
    Then, when both Kitty and Louise looked over at her, she looked away, embarrassed. Michael wasn’t that kind of guy.
    But Julian was, Kitty thought. Julian was the kind of guy who called you “baby” while watching another girl—or, worse, a fancy car—go by. But things were different now. A ring changed everything. A ring was what every girl waited for. It was the oddest thing, the way getting it made you so excited yet also serenely calm. It was as though you could finally stop holding your breath.
    In only two days, Kitty would have proof that Julian loved her. She hadn’t wanted to put pressure on him, but she had just turned twenty-two. With a yearlong engagement, she’d be twenty-three when they were wed. It was time. For Louise, at twenty, it wasn’t as critical; she was nowhere near being called an old maid.
    “When I get married,” Tish said, “we’re going to eat by candlelight every night. Twelve loooong white candles, in a