Alfred had been speaking in absolutes since he took her hand in part because he was afraid of walking away from this conversation without any resolution; afraid that if they did, Jo would flit away like a bird and it would be months before he had another chance to even see her, much less be earnest with her. And it was easy to say things like I want, I can, I will when they were in Capetown, separated from the real world back home by leagues of travel and weeks of absence. It was easy to make promises here, where the rest of his life seemed distant and malleable and easy to shape around whatever they agreed to. But talking to Zelda first was the right decision, and he recognized that as soon as she said it. Jo had matured since they'd be friends, he realized, and she was braver now too. Maybe braver than him.
"I'll talk to her," he agreed. "I'll write, and then when I come back home in the spring we'll talk about it in person." Letters were terrible at conveying tone, and he'd gotten into trouble in the past for misreading what she'd written between the lines, so best to do it in person — but best too, he thought, not to wait any longer to bring the subject up. There were already enough things he hadn't brought up, and adding tonight to the list wouldn't help anything. "But in the meantime," he added, "If you need me, just write. Please write."
"I'll talk to her," he agreed. "I'll write, and then when I come back home in the spring we'll talk about it in person." Letters were terrible at conveying tone, and he'd gotten into trouble in the past for misreading what she'd written between the lines, so best to do it in person — but best too, he thought, not to wait any longer to bring the subject up. There were already enough things he hadn't brought up, and adding tonight to the list wouldn't help anything. "But in the meantime," he added, "If you need me, just write. Please write."
MJ made the most Alfredy of sets and then two years later she made it EVEN BETTER