🎧 337: That night . . .

     That night Lorna and Herb lay awake in the dark, each thinking about the house, trying to remember it precisely, imagining life there, and trying to be still about it, in order not to wake the other, but neither was breathing like a person asleep, and finally the thought of crocuses coming up in the little lawn in the spring became so vivid in Lorna’s mind’s eye that she giggled from the pleasure of it. She tried to stifle the giggle, and she did muffle the sound, but still she made the bed tremble with the rhythm of a giggle. “You’re awake too,” said Herb.
     “Mm,” said Lorna.
     “What do you think of it?” asked Herb.
     Lorna snuggled up to him and kissed his ear. “I think it’s just right,” she said.
     “That’s what I think,” said Herb. “It’s just right.”
     “The little bedroom could be very pretty with some new wallpaper and ruffled curtains,” said Lorna.
     “We can build a garage on the east side of the house, with a grease pit and space for some tools, welding equipment, and stuff like that,” said Herb.
     “Do you think we could paint the dining room green?”
     “We could put a screened porch between the garage and the house, with movable blinds, so that we can have sun or shade, whichever we want.”
     “Could you build a corner cupboard for the dining room, for that corner in the front, away from the living room?”
     “Sure. I could build a workshop in the cellar too.”
     “I want to plant flowers everywhere. Crocuses in the lawn, roses beside the steps, morning glories along the fences.”
     “And we could build a den in that ell between the kitchen and our bedroom, with a door off the hall, a secret door, set into the paneling, with a hidden latch, or maybe a door hidden behind a bookshelf,” said Herb.
     “Oh, Herb,” said Lorna. She was laughing.
     “That’s a dumb idea, isn’t it, a hidden door?”
     “Oh, no, Herb. It’s not a dumb idea. It’s not a dumb idea at all. I’m not laughing at what you want to do. I’m laughing because I’m happy.”
     The weeks before they moved were busy ones for Herb. He and Lorna had little furniture of their own, since the apartments they’d rented had been furnished. Herb had made Lorna’s work table and a crib for Ella. Now he made a bed for him and Lorna and a smaller copy of it for Ella, who was seven now, dressers for all of them, and a dining-room table. They bought several other items from Mrs. Stolz, who was pleased not to have to move them or find out how little they interested her children. Among these items was an upright piano that stood at the far end of the living room. Herb visited Mrs. Stolz one day without Lorna’s knowing and arranged to buy it and make weekly payments. May gave them a sofa and a pair of wing chairs from the guest house, and she lent them four dining room chairs.
     On the evening of their moving in, after the furniture was all in place, after they had eaten the cold dinner that May had her cook pack for them, after Ella was tucked into bed, with the kitten that was her current love curled up at her feet, Herb built a fire and Lorna sat at the piano and picked out “Lake Serenity Serenade.” If you’d been standing outside, with your nose pressed to the window, you would have said that what you saw was a perfect scene of domestic peace. Herb stood behind Lorna with his hands on her shoulders. The tune and the firelight gave the room the erotic buoyancy of a rowboat on Lake Serenity. Herb touched Lorna’s cheek. It was wet with tears.
     “Lorna!” said Herb. “What’s the matter?”
     “I can’t help thinking of poor Mrs. Stolz! We’ve taken her house from her! Here we are in her living room, in front of her fire, and I’m playing her piano — ”
     “We didn’t take it from her, Lorna, we — ”
     “Oh, I know we didn’t really take it from her, but didn’t we take advantage of her, wasn’t her loss our gain?”
     “Well, no, not really, I — no — at least I don’t think so — ”
     “Oh, Herb, just imagine her living the rest of her life in that miserable hotel!”
     “It’s not so miserable. We liked it when — ”
     “Herb,” cried Lorna, “we can’t let her stay there!” She leaped to her feet, and in a moment she was at the door, in her coat, with Ella beside her, wrapped in a blanket, waiting for Herb to warm up the car.

In Topical Guide 337, Mark Dorset considers Literature: As Source of Inspiration and Projects: Practical and Impractical from this episode.

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