5/9/39
Precious:
I wish you were here to cool me off. I am sitting here with little but pants on, hot as hell, and swearing a blue streak. You could slice up the air and carry it out like paving bricks.
Darling, it isn’t fair. In the past two weeks, I have sent out all but $5 of what I have saved in the past three months. If I had sent even a small part of it to you, I wouldn’t have minded, for that is a privilege and a pleasure. But you are only getting 1/8th of the total, and that is all wrong. I almost feel like I did once before when every cent I owned was borrowed for worthy purposes. I spent every penny I earned for months afterward. Honey, I won’t do that now, because the money is no longer mine. But I wish to hell people would get it into their heads that I am going to get married soon and need my dough a hell of a lot.
Now that I have raved all over the place, I suppose I should explain myself before you get the idea that I am perturbed over the $10 I am sending you on the 15th. Dad just hit me for $25 for rent and other essentials. I suppose I am lucky not to have the entire burden, but I’m getting damned sick and tired of being money bags for the family. I don’t really feel that badly about it, for I know that none of them ever ask for a nickel until they need a dollar, but it does upset me to be just about ahead and paying myself out of debt and have this pop up. The thing that hurts most is having to miss a check to John. Darling, we’re going to come out on top and start our married life with a bank account if I have to move heaven and earth to do it. But if it is the last thing I do, never let me tell anyone again how much I make. It is too much of a temptation.
Well, let’s forget that. I wish that I was sending you a thousand rather than a damned ten. I shall send it five dollars at a time spaced a day apart. Please let me know when you receive them so that I won’t worry about their being lost in the mail. I don’t want to put any money orders on record.
Saw “Confessions of a Nazi Spy” with Al last night. It was propaganda, but interesting. Also started reading “With Malice Towards Some”, which is funny as the dickens.
It is late, darling, and I must hurry to the post office to draw out almost all of my savings to save the dear old family. Just remember this little picture darling when I am in the prime of life and we start spending as much as I earn. I hope to heaven my kids never have to face this situation.
You’re mine precious. Beware of Romans bearing gifts, or something. In other words, after everything is all over, warm up to your Mother, for I feel that she is perfectly willing to forget wpk any old day. But until then, be careful as hell. She may be friendly just to find out your plans and spike your guns.
I miss you like the dickens, but I guess we’ll make out ok soon. Don’t let this little tirade worry you, for just being able to talk it over with you has made me feel better all ready.
Your husband, Cy.