"As the aimless days passed, Laurie asked herself why she had ever joined the ranks of beach players. Was the fleeting hope of Ron’s love enough to compensate for the hospital, the patients, the nursing career that had given her life its meaning?”
"I don’t dig that medicine jazz, sweetie. I want my woman warm and soft and smelling of perfume, not antiseptic.”
. . . “I can’t go, Johnny,” she said. “I can’t give it up.”
“That nursing jazz?” he grinned. “What’s to give up, honey? I’m offering you the world, glamor the works. And me thrown in for good or bad measure.”
2 comments:
Enjoying these posts:)
They just keep getting better! I can envision reading these aloud on a road trip...
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