“Jesus Christ, why?”
“Why not? It might be interesting, and I might be good at it.” She was getting more excited about it every day, and suddenly it seemed like the right thing to do. It made some sense, gave some purpose to her life. “I'm going to apply to Boalt, at UC Berkeley.” She had already made up her mind. There were two other schools she was going to apply to also, but Boalt was her first choice.
Harry stared at her. “You're serious?”
“Yes.”
“I think you're nuts.”
“Want to come?”
“Hell, no!” He grinned. “I told you. I'm going to play … just kick up my heels.”
“That's a waste of time.”
“I can hardly wait.”
And neither could she. In May she got the word. She'd been accepted at Boalt. They would give her a partial scholarship, and she had already saved the rest.
“I'm on my way.” She grinned at Harry as they sat on the lawn outside her dorm.
“Tan, are you sure?”
“Never more so in my whole life.” The two exchanged a long smile. The road would part for them soon. She went to his graduation at Harvard in June, and cried copiously for him, for herself, for Sharon Blake who was no more, for John F. Kennedy who had been killed seven months before, for the people they had met, and those they never would. An era had come to an end, for them both. And she cried at her own graduation too. As Jean Roberts did, and Arthur Durning had come along. And Harry sat in the back row, pretending to make conquests among the freshman girls.
But it was Tana his eyes were rivetted to, his heart leapt with pride for her and then sank as he thought of their going separate ways. He knew that inevitably their paths would cross again. He would see to that. But for her, it was still too soon. And with all his heart, he wished her godspeed and, that she would be safe and well in California. It made him nervous to think of her so far from him. But he had to let her go for now … for now … tears filled his eyes as he watched her come down the steps with her diploma in hand. She looked so fresh and young, the big green eyes, the bright shining hair … and the lips he so desperately longed to kiss and had for almost four years … the same lips brushed his cheek as he congratulated her again, and for an instant, just an instant, he felt her hold him close, and it almost took his breath away.
“Thanks, Harry.” There were tears in her eyes.
“What for?” He had to fight back tears of his own.
“For everything.” And then the others pressed in on them and the moment was gone. Their separate lives had begun and Harry almost felt her physically torn from him.
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