July 5, 1939

"Lou? You awake?"

Lou opened his eyes and squinted against the late afternoon sun, Eleanor's silhouette ebon against the azure sky.

"Yeah. Just enjoying the sun on my face."

"We should pack up, don't you think?"

"Let's lie here a bit longer."

"Okay."

Eleanor looked at Lou's face in repose. There were more laugh lines than she remembered, but he still looked so young. It wasn't fair.

"Hey Ellie? What I said yesterday? I was wrong." He squeezed her hand; his grip felt strong as ever. "Today. Today I consider myself the luckiest man on the face of the earth."