Page 17 of Hello Darling

“This is a wonderful theater.”

“Shhh.”

He laughs quietly, slouching again.

When the silent film of the Hole in the Wall gang starts before the opening credits, it is so quiet I can hear him breathing next to me. I hold my breath as if that will keep him from hearing the sound of my idiot heart hammering inside my chest, begging to protect its freedom. Gah! The beginning of this movie is so quiet! He can probably hear my thoughts too.

We both take a deep breath and nod at the brilliance of the moment when the film goes from sepia tone to color. We both laugh at the same great lines.

When Redford has his first scene with Katharine Ross, he leans over and whispers, “You really expect me to believe you don’t like Sundance?”

“Shhh,” is all I say. What I don’t say is—of course I like him. He’s just not my type.

He pulls something out of his jacket pocket. A baggie full of something. He brought his own healthy snack—what a rebel. He unzips the plastic bag and leans towards me a little, gently touches the back of my hand with his fingers to get my attention. That tiny touch sends shivers all through my body. It just makes me angry, which seems like a perfectly rational response.

I can see that he’s silently offering me cashews with a polite smile.

“I’m not the kind of girl who touches a strange man’s nuts in a dark theater,” I whisper.

He laughs quietly. “Am I really that strange?” he whispers.

I shush him again and nod back towards the screen.

When the iconic adorable “Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head” sequence begins, we both smile at each other. I finally get comfortable, slouch down in my seat, and put my feet up against the empty seat in front of me to enjoy Paul Newman hamming it up on the bicycle.

Evan Hunter does the same.

There’s something so intimate about watching a movie this close to someone who isn’t a complete stranger. Especially when it isn’t a big blockbuster that assaults your senses. Especially when you get so invested in the characters and start crying at the end. Even though you’re seen it seven times. It always sneaks up on me.

I can’t hide it. I’m sniffling and wiping my eyes. He looks over at me.

It always gets me. Their choice to die. To live it up on their own terms together and then to go out in a blaze of glory together. It used to be how I saw myself living my life until several years ago.

"It's quite something, isn't it?” he says, over the end credits. “The way they keep you laughing all the way until the end, even when they know they're about to go out in a blaze of glory."

I look over at him, wondering if it was so quiet he really could hear my thoughts.