Happy All the Time Read Online Free Page A

heart lurched. This lurch was followed by a searing pain. There could be only one thing to talk about—she was going to turn him down. The fact that she was clutching the box did not console him.
    â€œI’m going away for a week,” said Holly. “I have to have a little uncluttered time to think in. I’m very introspective as a rule, but now I feel carried away. I can’t think in context. I mean, I can’t think about us while you and I are together. Do you see what I mean?”
    â€œI don’t,” said Guido.
    â€œWhat I mean is, this is all very serious. I mean, if I am going to marry you, I feel I ought to turn it around in my mind and if we’re together, I get confused.”
    â€œI haven’t asked you to marry me,” said Guido.
    â€œThen why have you stuck a ring box in my squirrel-foot fern?”
    â€œAs a romantic gesture.” Guido sat down next to her on the bed. “Open it.”
    Inside the blue box was a mound of dark blue velvet, lying on top of which was a heavy yellow-gold ring with a flat turquoise in the center.
    â€œI know you hate stones,” Guido said. “And I know you hate any gold that isn’t yellow. And I know you like weight.” He knew more things: that she hated sheets that weren’t pressed; that she thought suntans were show-offy unless gotten in the line of work; that she felt letters ought to be written with a fountain pen; that she took a stand against ice in drinks; that she took an equally firm stand against bright colors with the exception of red; and that she would eat oranges but nothing that was orange-flavored. He was deeply in love with these quirks and he felt that he could see the big picture beneath them. Guido believed in the meaning and integrity of gestures. Holly’s habits, her rituals, her opinions stood for the way she felt about the world—they expressed some grand conception of life and the placement of things in it. Her perfection and precision were a noble stand against sloppiness. Nevertheless, these things were just about all he knew. She had never told him anything. Now he understood that she intended to marry him, but she sat on the bed with the ring in her palm and said nothing at all.
    â€œDo you like it?” Guido said.
    â€œIt’s perfect,” said Holly. “I love it.” He could not see her face. Her head was bent and all he could see was her glossy, sable hair.
    It fit, of course, perfectly.
    â€œI do want to marry you,” said Guido. “I mean, I want you to marry me.”
    Holly looked up at him with a look of slight surprise. Wasn’t it a done thing? she seemed to say.
    â€œIt’s only a question of when,” Holly said. “But I want to go away first. I want to feel what it’s like to be without you so I can know what it’s like to be with you. Does that make any sense?”
    â€œNo,” said Guido.
    â€œWell, what I mean is, I’m used to our connection and I’d like to disconnect just to feel the power of that connection. You can’t feel that unless you reconnect and you can’t reconnect without disconnecting. Stop looking at me like that, Guido.”
    â€œI was only beginning to realize that I am about to marry someone who doesn’t make a shred of sense.”
    â€œI do make sense,” Holly said. “I just can’t see things up close. Then I get intrigued by the idea of distance.”
    A tiny shiver went through Guido. That sounded like a phrase he would one day remember.
    â€œHolly?”
    â€œYes?”
    â€œI have no idea how you feel about me.”
    â€œDon’t be silly. Of course you do. I’m going to marry you, aren’t I? It’s just a week apart.”
    During that week, Guido made a stab at pretending he had never met her. He went to the library. He wrote the final chapter of his dissertation. He went to a basketball game with Vincent and then went out