Tonight two lovebirds will toast St. Valentine and hum `How Soon?'

The Boston Herald

Beverly Beckham

I always get the story wrong. No matter how many times I hear it I confuse the details. Was he wearing the sweater with the reindeer the night they met? Or was she? Was it September or October 1947 or 1948?

It was Sept. 5, 1947. He was wearing the reindeer sweater. She was wearing a red Sheltie Mist sweater, white bucks and a camel-hair skirt that swirled every time she swayed. I know because I can see her legs, long and shapely. Incredible, unforgettable legs. That's what Joe said the first time he told me the story and that's what he always says, every time he relates it.

"She had great legs" and "she was absolutely beautiful."

The tale has taken on the dimensions of myth over the years, yet every word of it is true. His heart did stop when he saw her across the school gym. His heart did race when he held her in his arms and danced to Vaughn Monroe's "How Soon?" And his heart still skips a few beats, even now, nearly 45 years later, when he talks about the night he fell in love.

He was a public school senior and she was a Catholic school sophomore. He was a cut-up, always in trouble. She was as sweet as summer's first rose. He'd been to dances dozens of times. Her father was strict; this was her first public school dance.

It's here that the specifics fade, for it's here that the feeling culled from Joe's words overtake fact. I like to imagine it this way: Joe is on one side of the room and Betty Ann is on the other. I picture hardwood floors, foul lines, a tall ceiling, overhead lights. There are bleachers on both sides of the dance floor, hundreds of people, dozens of pretty girls, all in skirts and sweaters. A band plays, or is it records? I don't know. It doesn't matter.

For the music softens suddenly and the clean edges blur. The place takes on the look of something seen through thick glasses by a man with perfect vision. It is hazy, filmy, almost smoky.

This is what Joe sees: Only Bets. She is alone in the room, 14, just a child. She is the focus, center stage, but all else is background.

Like Tony in "West Side Story," Joe is caught in a spell. He walks toward her, is pulled toward her, a girl he doesn't know. He smiles. He takes her hand. He asks her to dance.

"What happened next, Joe," I always ask. But he gets quiet at this point, reflective. He shakes his head and says things like, "I can't believe it was so long ago. She was absolutely beautiful."

And then he changes the subject, the tale told, or as much of it as he's willing to share.

Other people fill in the details: They were a couple from that night on, though Bets couldn't date, though she saw Joe only when her father said she could. But he sent her flowers all the time, for no reason other than that he loved her. And he always signed the cards the same way: "How soon?" It was his signature, their love song: "How soon will I be seeing you? How soon I wish I only knew."

On Feb. 12, 1951, 3 1/2 years after they first met, they were married at St. Catherine's and danced to "How Soon" at their reception. Joe still signs his cards this way. He had a bracelet made and inscribed with "How soon?"

How soon will I be seeing you, he continues to ask, four children and 42 years later.

They're in Hawaii now, celebrating their wedding anniversary. Every year they return to the same island, the same hotel, and stay in the same room they shared on their 25th.

Joe's a romantic. If something is perfect, he says, why bother seeking out something else?

And so they are walking along the same beach they've walked along before, holding hands just like kids, sipping cocktails as they watch the sun set, happy in a present that is deeply rooted in the past.

He still opens doors for her, stands when she enters a room, pulls out her chair, refers to her as "my bride." Her knees still get weak when she sees him across a room.

They've had their problems, of course, disagreements, disappointments, arguments, tragedies. These things are part of life. They come and they go.

But their love has remained constant.

Somewhere tonight, they will toast St. Valentine and dance to "How Soon?" humming the song that joined their hearts so many years ago.