PrettySquareGal
I'll Lock Up
- Messages
- 4,003
- Location
- New England
The Picnic, 1953
Letty was 25, but almost 30 in her mind. She had a knack for picking the right hat only to later wear it when meeting the wrong man.
It's not that the men weren't to up her standards (that weren't really hers anyway, but more of what she had as a guide based upon what mother kept telling her). It was that she just didn't FEEL with any of them. It was always somewhat mechanical, methodical and well timed. They showed up on time, said the proper things, and she sometimes even let them kiss her goodnight only because she feared her lips would grow cold and pursed if not pursued once in a while. This was after a well planned dinner in a respectable establishment and maybe a nice movie.
Her flat was cute and her cat looked content being fat and single and it was always the same safe scene with a variety of discounted hats arranged in front of her vanity mirror. They conveniently blocked her view of her own full reflections.
But she was filled with a bit of desperation that one night. She was going to meet Henry at the park in the early afternoon for a picnic before his train departed the following dawn. His job was transferring him to the branch in Ohio, hundreds of miles away from the dreary town of Gray, Maine. His wife would come with him, and close her shop for good.
Henry was married to Letty's boss, a very domineering woman who ran her boutique in a manner that brought in healthy numbers of anemic and overweight rich women in need of fedoras and evening purses.
They had met one evening when Letty was closing shop. Henry had stopped by per his wife's request, but she had forgotten and left early. He offered to walk her to her car and it was one of those times when you find yourself suddenly talking with someone and you don't know their name or where they're from or if you will ever see them again. Of course she knew who he was in relation to her boss, but with this man, she could FEEL his conversation. But to acknowledge the time or that they had reached her car would put an end to the natural connection that existed whether or not they continued to talk, and would be be broken by social graces and passing ladies with fedoras and evening purses giving them the look. His wife was well connected to people she hardly knew.
Henry and Letty had a few more chance encounters, mostly methodically planned and well timed by Henry to appear accidental. Each meeting progressed into something longer and allowed for more acceptance of the fact that they had something. They never spoke of what it was.
But the news that he would be leaving made him lost in his seemingly safe daydreams of a place where they could be together. It would be a picnic in the park...
I just wrote this. I saw a vintage picnic set in a small carrying case at an estate auction today, and I wondered about the people who had used it.
Does anyone else get inspired to make up stories about old things?
Letty was 25, but almost 30 in her mind. She had a knack for picking the right hat only to later wear it when meeting the wrong man.
It's not that the men weren't to up her standards (that weren't really hers anyway, but more of what she had as a guide based upon what mother kept telling her). It was that she just didn't FEEL with any of them. It was always somewhat mechanical, methodical and well timed. They showed up on time, said the proper things, and she sometimes even let them kiss her goodnight only because she feared her lips would grow cold and pursed if not pursued once in a while. This was after a well planned dinner in a respectable establishment and maybe a nice movie.
Her flat was cute and her cat looked content being fat and single and it was always the same safe scene with a variety of discounted hats arranged in front of her vanity mirror. They conveniently blocked her view of her own full reflections.
But she was filled with a bit of desperation that one night. She was going to meet Henry at the park in the early afternoon for a picnic before his train departed the following dawn. His job was transferring him to the branch in Ohio, hundreds of miles away from the dreary town of Gray, Maine. His wife would come with him, and close her shop for good.
Henry was married to Letty's boss, a very domineering woman who ran her boutique in a manner that brought in healthy numbers of anemic and overweight rich women in need of fedoras and evening purses.
They had met one evening when Letty was closing shop. Henry had stopped by per his wife's request, but she had forgotten and left early. He offered to walk her to her car and it was one of those times when you find yourself suddenly talking with someone and you don't know their name or where they're from or if you will ever see them again. Of course she knew who he was in relation to her boss, but with this man, she could FEEL his conversation. But to acknowledge the time or that they had reached her car would put an end to the natural connection that existed whether or not they continued to talk, and would be be broken by social graces and passing ladies with fedoras and evening purses giving them the look. His wife was well connected to people she hardly knew.
Henry and Letty had a few more chance encounters, mostly methodically planned and well timed by Henry to appear accidental. Each meeting progressed into something longer and allowed for more acceptance of the fact that they had something. They never spoke of what it was.
But the news that he would be leaving made him lost in his seemingly safe daydreams of a place where they could be together. It would be a picnic in the park...
I just wrote this. I saw a vintage picnic set in a small carrying case at an estate auction today, and I wondered about the people who had used it.
Does anyone else get inspired to make up stories about old things?
