I wrote this for school and it's just what I think might have happened after the movie.

That was the summer of 1964 – when everyone still called me Baby and it still hadn't occurred to me to mind. That was before Lyndon Johnson (LBJ) defeated Barry Goldwater for presidency, before the Kinks released their first album, when I still planned to join the Peace Corps and I did find (and then lost) a guy as great as my dad. That was the summer I fell in love all over again.

I was sitting in a coffee shop in New York and thinking about Johnny. We had tried to keep in touch over the past year, but eventually college and the union had gotten in the way and I hadn't heard from him in almost a year.

It was early morning on a Sunday in September, the day before Labor Day and we were leaving Kellerman's.

"Baby, please don't cry. It'll be okay." Johnny's strong voice made me feel better, even if things wouldn't be okay for a while. He gave me a really tight hug and I wanted him to never let go.

"But Johnny, I don't know when we will see each other." I was crying now, and he gently brushed the tears away from my face with his finger.

"Neither do I, but we'll make it work somehow. Whenever you miss me, just read this." Johnny pressed a note into my hand and I couldn't wait to read it. We kissed goodbye and hugged and within minutes of leaving the place and the guy that had given me the time of my life I was reading his letter in the car on the way home:

Dear Baby,

I don't write many letters, so I'm not sure what to write. But it's 1:00 a.m., and you're in my bed asleep. I want to be lying next to you, but I also want to give you this letter – something to remember me, I guess. You're leaving tomorrow. I guess that would be today. After you leave, I don't know when we'll meet again, but I do know that we will. You changed me, Baby. You helped me believe in myself and you made me a better person. Even though I got fired, I don't regret it at all because of how you changed me. I meant what I said the other day – I'll never be sorry. I'm glad you offered to fill in for Penny and learn the dance in a few days. That alone shows what kind of person you are – willing to help someone you don't even know. You're an amazing person, Baby, very optimistic, and you really are going to change the world someday. I'm going to try, by the way, to make sure that we do see each other again. When we do, I'll be the happiest man alive – I already am because I'm with you. I've had the time of my life and I owe it all to you/

Johnny

That letter made me cry in the car on the way home. My family looked at me like I was crazy, of course, and I know my parents were wondering how I could have fallen for such a guy like Johnny – a guy who wasn't from Harvard, who wasn't rich. But nobody knew Johnny like I did, with the single exception being Penny.

I should mention that I actually was in a corner near the window. "Nobody puts Baby in a corner." Someone behind me said. I would know that voice anywhere, the voice that gave me chills when I heard it, the voice I hadn't heard in years and wanted to hear again. I turned around and there was Johnny, staring at me with those intense eyes of his.

"Johnny. Hi." I knew my voice sounded shocked and surprised, but also happy. I was very happy to see him, but I couldn't tell if he was happy to see me, which reminded me of the time when I had gone to Johnny's room to apologize for my dad's behavior after we danced together at the Sheldrake.

"Baby, what are you doing here? Aren't you in college?"

"It's our summer break. What are you doing here?"

"I'm teaching dance for a show here. I'm not working today, so I thought I would explore the city a little bit. What are you doing here? I didn't picture you as a coffee person." He smiled.

"Things can change in a year." I didn't mean for that to come out so harshly and Johnny looked hurt when I told him that. When I told him that I didn't mean for it to sound that way it had, he smiled and said that it was okay, he understood, and a lot could change in a year. He smiled again and I smiled back, knowing that everything was okay.

"So what have you been doing, Baby?" The way he looked when he asked meant that he actually wanted an answer.

I told him that over the past year, I had decided that my major was going to be economics of underdeveloped countries and Johnny told me he had joined the union with his father. He told his dad that dancing was what he really wanted to do, Johnny's father had not accepted it, and the two had not spoken in about six months.

"Speaking of family and fathers, how's yours?" Johnny asked. I wasn't sure if he really wanted to know the answer this time, but I answered anyway.

"They are all fine, thanks for asking. Lisa's going to major in fashion." Both of us smiled, knowing Lisa would do well with that.

"Baby, I want to ask you a question and I don't want you to get angry or anything like that." Johnny said carefully and quietly, like I was going to explode after he told me whatever it was that he wanted to ask. I told him this, and he continued.

"Does your father completely hate me?"

"Johnny, of course he doesn't hate you!" I couldn't understand why he was asking me this.

"That's not the impression I get." He looked kind of like he didn't believe me. He also looked like he really didn't want to know the response to the statement.

"He likes you. He knows that you make me happy and that's what's important to him. Daddy didn't see that at first." I replied. We lowered our voices because some of the other people in the coffee shop were looking at us strangely. "Johnny," I continued, " in case you're wondering, money might be important to my father-"

"So he thinks I'm too poor for you! He just judged me, thought I was some guy who slept around and didn't really care for anyone." Johnny bit out.

"-but money does not matter to me at all! I do not care one bit about it. How could you even think that?!" By now, I was really angry and I didn't want to talk about my father or money.

"Look," Johnny said carefully, "maybe we should go outside and talk. People are looking at us like we're aliens, and although I don't care what people think, I don't want them staring.." Once we were outside, we continued talking.

"Johnny, how could you think that I would care about material things at all? You must not know me very well."

"I didn't know whether you were with me in the beginning because you cared about me or because you wanted to rebel against your father."

"Johnny! I loved you. I still love you!"

"You do? Really?" Johnny seemed really happy to hear this but also a bit shocked. He must have thought that he loved me more than I loved him.

"Of course! Why wouldn't you think so?" I was shocked that Johnny didn't know this.

"I thought I loved you more than you loved me because you didn't write or call." Johnny's tone was not accusatory in any way, but it still made me upset. Seeing my face, he quickly added, "I'm not accusing you or anything because I didn't write or call either. It goes both ways. We just got caught up in our separate lives and we didn't have time."

"Well, thank you for letting me get to know you." I responded, smiling, knowing that it was really cheesy. "Johnny, you should show your sweet, caring side a little more often and not get so worked up over things because people will treat you differently."

"Thanks to you showing me, I will. Where do we go from here?" Johnny asked. I didn't know what to say to that. Did we really want to give it another shot? I told him I didn't know, to which he asked me,

"Are you involved with anyone?" He asked. If I had been, he would have been way out of my mind right now.

"No, are you?"

"No. Every girl I met, even if it was just checking out at the grocery store, I compared to you. Frances, you are the sweetest, most optimistic person I have ever known and I don't want to loose you ever again." Johnny said sweetly, which made me smile really wide. "Shall we?" Johnny asked, offering his hand like an invitation to a dance.

"We shall." I responded and, taking my hand in his, spun me around and then we walked down the street with our fingers interlocked.

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