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224 pages, Paperback
First published September 12, 1978
Misty woke abruptly and felt awful. She groped around for her glasses, couldn't find them, and sat very still, looking unfocused and bereft, as if she had awakened from a kind dream to find merciless and cruel reality waiting for her. Vincent thought he understood unhappiness, but he was not sure if this was it. He sat beside her and took her hand.
"Are you going to tell me what's going on?" he said. "I can't bear to see you this way."
She shrugged her shoulders.
Vincent asked, "Does it help if I tell you I love you, or does it make it worse?"
She began to cry. It was the second time in two days, but its effect on Vincent was not dimmed by repetition.
"Okay," she said. "Here goes."
His heart seemed to stop. This was it, but what was it?
"It's not what you're thinking," said Misty, looking at his stricken face. "It's worse. You're stuck with me. This is your last chance to bail out, Vincent. I don't think we were made for each other. Maybe you were made for me, but I was made for Attila the Hun."
"Are you telling me that life with you will be a living hell?"
"I am giving you one last chance to go off and find some nicer girl," said Misty. "Someone who knows her way around a sailboat."
"That's a disgusting thing to say. Last week you gave me a very compelling analysis on the workings of my stunning intellect. Now I'm supposed to take my intellect off and go sailing?"
And besides that, there's the Jewish question," said Misty.
"Oh, that," said Vincent. "I don't notice either of us being religious. Besides, my Aunt Marcia is Jewish. She married Uncle Walter. She's everybody's favorite relative. What's the big deal?"
"Our backgrounds are different," said Misty.
"This is not worth discussing," said Vincent. "We've done very well up till now, and we'll continue to do well."
"I'm not like your other flames," said Misty. "I don't know anything about dog breeding."
"Yes, you do," said Vincent. "The night we were comparing eccentric relatives, you told me that your Aunt Harriet wanted to cross Welsh corgis and Doberman pinschers and get a vicious but barkless guard dog for sneak attacks. That will be quite sufficient. Throw in my Aunt Marcia and you can see that we are ideally suited."
Tears slid out of the corners of Misty's eyes. She put her arms around his neck.
"I'm just scared," she said. "That's all."
"That isn't all," said Vincent. "What are you scared of?"
"I don't know."
"What else don't you know?"
That's all," said Misty.
"I assume that means that you have given a good deal of analytical thought to your feelings about me."
"My feelings about you appear to transcend analysis."
"Wonderful," said Vincent. "What are they?"
"I just love you," she mumbled.
"Speak up, please," said Vincent.
"I said, I just love you. Isn't that banal?"
"What a relief," said Vincent, smiling.