My sweet jellybean,

If we were away now, hiding out in a diner in Wyoming, if we were characters in a soap opera, it would nearly be the end of our summer of love. It would also be the time for the climax of our story arc as they prepare to return us to our regular Sometown, USA.

By now we would have had many laughs in the swimming hole. By now I would have had a few sleepless nights, tossing and turning in my adjoining hotel room, where I crawl, lost and lusty, up against the headboard, up against the wall, and, over-acting, put my hand on the wallpaper and listen for you, all to the drone of an elderly air conditioner, all in the flashing blue and green and red of neon that happens a lot on T.V. Night after night.

By now, because we are summer soap opera characters, our people back home would worry and fret about us and imagine the worst, screwing up their anxious faces just before the commercial breaks. By now we have learned to respect the country folk and, what’s more, we have earned their respect. We can toss flapjacks like pros. And we have helped Hank with his marital troubles. And we are assured they respect us because, just a week ago, Hank helped hide us when McCreighton, the surly no-good private investigator, came sniffing around for us.

Meanwhile, Murphy runs wild out back.

By now I have a fat portfolio of photographs of apple and strawberry rhubarb pies, the ice cream blender, the shiny cherry red stools, the old signage in the windows, Hank with his wife, Hank’s wife with her recently rejected busboy boyfriend, Murphy in the fields, Murphy in the swimming hole, and of course a thousand pictures of you, my jellybean. Sitting on a fence, squinting in the sun, buffeted by dry Wyoming breezes. Looking mad at me in your hairnet. Leaning over the glow of the jukebox. Suspiciously, but tellingly, there are very few pictures of the hunky Jethro.

And by now we would be facing our climatic challenge. Jethro is head over heels for you. He plays Bob Dylan songs on his guitar for you at night. All summer he’s been finding ways to spend time with you. And I’ve been encouraging it. Meanwhile, you’ve been torn between returning his lusty feelings and your concern for me. We’ve just had our first and altogether uncommon spat, and you have agreed to go out on a date with Jethro. But it’s Friday and we all have to wait until Monday to see what you will do.

But it’s a summer soap opera and I know we are both going back to Sometown soon so I won’t worry.

SS