Love Is In The Air. . . .Sweet, Sweet Love. . . .#3

The picture of Delores and I was taken in December of 1950 in front of our house. Oh No!, We're standing by Ollie's new Oldsmobile.

The picture of George was taken in 1948. What a hunk! You could drown in those eyes! We started dating soon after the picture was taken.

In Chapter 2, writing of my romance with George Wimsatt, upon the advise of my sweet sister Theresa, I had ignored the "take a hike" letter he had written me in February from Washington D.C. and replied with a friendly, "How are you?" I told him I would be returning to Panaca in a week. I did, and once again found myself waiting, with butterflies in my stomach, for his letter to arrive.

I settled in at the job I had waiting for me. I would be taking care of two little boys five days a week while their mother, Margaret Jones, worked. It wasn't a bad job and as I had been interviewed and hired as secretary to Esther Rollins, the Lincoln County Clerk, I knew it was only going to be for a few weeks.

I was glad to be home and soon settled into a routine; up every morning at 6:00 and to work by 7:15. My days were filled with all of the activities necessary to keep two little boys entertained and happy; food, play, food, reading endless stories, food, putting shoes and stockings back on several times an hour, food. . . . .Would nap time never come?

The highlight of each day was our walk after lunch to the post office where I eagerly looked into P.O. Box 72 for a letter postmarked Washington D.C. Each day was the same, no letter from George, making the walk home with two little boys dripping ice cream down the front of their shirts, unbearably long. I didn't give up, though. I mean, how could he possibly be so dumb? I never doubted (well, maybe just a little) that soon he would come to his senses.

One cold, windy February day , I had just put the little boys down for their nap, when I heard knocking at the door. I opened it, and to my heart racing surprise, Gino and George were standing there. We very politely exchanged hellos and a subdued "I didn't know you were back." Then Gino said, "We came to see if Wanda was here." Yeah sure, as if Gino, who had written Wanda every few days from D.C. didn't know that she was working in Caliente. I felt a sense of triumph when George, who had barely spoken to me, blandly asked, "Are you going to Las Vegas to the regional basketball finals this weekend?" With ideas already spinning in my head, I replied, also in a bland way, "Yes, I am." They left and I started formulating my master plan.

The previous December, I had sent some beautiful red and green velvet material home from Salt Lake City with a picture of a jumper, asking mom if she could make it for Delores and I for Christmas. I also sent some luxurious white satin and told her I wanted a blouse with long full sleeves to wear with it. I had purchased gold metal link belts and black suede duck bill shoes to complete our outfits (see above picture). I loved the finished product and felt very feminine and pretty when I wore it.

I wore my beautiful outfit to the game. I was with a group of friends and was very aware of George sitting in the bleachers several rows above me. I could feel him watching me and it took all of my will power not to turn and look up at him. I knew I looked good and was trying very hard to show him what a great time I was having and that I was not even aware he was there.

The game was exciting and intense. At half time, with our Lincoln County Lynx hanging on to a slim lead, I was exhausted from the frenzy and tension of the game and the effort of all of my dramatics (for George's benefit). I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned and George was standing there. He said, "Can I come and see you Tuesday?" I said, "Yes." He walked away and feeling as if I was going to faint, I turned back to my friends.

I guess the second half of the game was as exciting and intense as the first half had been, but I was hardly aware of what was happening around me. There was a roaring in my ears that could not have been attributed to the excitement and frenzy of the crowd. It was taking all of my willpower to stay focused. I desperately wanted to turn and see if George was still there. When the game ended with the Lynx victorious, I finally turned to see George laughing and talking with Gino and several other friends. He looked at me and smiled.

With dramatics forgotten, I smiled back and prepared to return to Panaca where, with butterflies in my stomach, I would wait for Tuesday to arrive.

To be continued. . . .