COLLEEN: Even though Danny and I are not moving in together until after the wedding, we decided it’s OK for my books to live in sin. So we’re transporting them seven blocks downtown from my apartment to his.
Danny’s carrying the second heavy box down the stairs from my fifth-floor walkup to the car outside, and he sees, much to his dismay, that he has many more trips to make before the project’s done.
We could move all the books home to Pennsylvania (where I’ll be living until we’re married) and then move them back to New York to Danny’s apartment. That would be fun. But why cause them unnecessary trauma.
We pile stacks and stacks high in Danny’s car. They don’t all fit. So he drives and I walk to his place, with another stack cradled in my arms. The books don’t fit in his bookshelves either. We stack them in piles against the wall with plans to head to Gotham Cabinet Craft tomorrow. And I have mountains more in Pennsylvania, Laura Ingalls Wilder et al., just waiting for life in the big city.