As they climbed out of the pool, she asked, casually, as if were something they’d just stopped talking about, “Still want to go to the Moon?” “Sure,” he said quickly. “Why don’t we make it a honeymoon trip?” He saw the tautness begin in her face, and he had to do _some_thing: “Christ!” he said, “What a tin-pan-alley bonanza. Song called ‘Do You Want a Moon Honeymoon, Honey?’ We’ll make a million, babe!” “Get a good old-fashioned Turkey In The Straw type tune for it,” she came back, “and the callers can say, ‘Everybody rise an’ shine, for _Moon Honeymoon, Honey_--’” But the troubled tension was still there. And he could feel it stretching the skin on his own face now. “--On the other hand,” she said, too lightly, “I always did want to live in sin with a Man in the Moon.” _Okay, let it go, the kid’s trying_.... “You mean you’d rather have the wedding _after_ the honeymoon?” he persisted compulsively. “It’s kind of--unconventional, Lee--” _Stop! For krissake, stop!_ “I never commit myself to more than one drastic action before four P.M.,” she said primly. _Commit yourself?_ Well, that was that. _Neatly done, babe_, he thought. And then remembered that _he_ was the one who had started the Moon bit. Okay. Okay, they’d go. What the hell? The Moon was just part of the Earth’s backyard, that’s all. Right across the street, nothing else. Okay, they’d go. “Okay, babe,” he said, stepping toward her. “But if you won’t have me, I don’t know what I can do about it, except for _me_ to have you....” Rockland, N.Y. July 25, 1977 Dear Chris-- You guessed it, I suppose, as soon as you saw the envelope. (I suppose this is what they really mean by a ‘dilatory correspondence?’ I’ve gotten to feel as if I’ve known you for years, just through exchanging delaying letters--) Turns out now we can’t do it on the 31st. Johnny got some sort of (hush-hush) job onto the drawing board today, and they’ve got to have it Aug. 3, he says. Has to take his first plans in Saturday, and then he could leave, if they like what he’s done, but he won’t go until he sees the final blueprints, so-- Frankly, as you realized (from what you said in your note last week), I can’t really say I’m sorry to see him so wrapped up in new work. But must confess I am getting kind of wistful about the trip up too-- Anyhow, I rearranged my own schedule as soon as he told me about this last night, and have now got things set so the recording series will be finished by Aug. 5--working all next week like mad--so that _I_ won’t have any dates I can’t break, and I’ll be free to pick up and go any week after this coming one, any time Johnny can tear himself away from the drawing board. Did Phil finally make it? I know he’s been champing at the bit the past week or so, since he made up his mind to the trip. (Just phoned his office, found out he took off yesterday.)