It was on the end of my tongue to talk common sense and logic to her, but then I realized that neither of us wanted to hear anything like that. We were in love and we didn't want to hear anything that conflicted with our emotions.
Marge sat up in the hammock and made room for me to sit down beside her.
"I just don't see how it could happen to us," I said. "I don't see how we could fight like that. There must have been some mistake. Maybe we looked in on the wrong people."
Neither of us added anything to that. We both knew we weren't going to change so much that we couldn't recognize ourselves two years later.
"Maybe it was some sort of alternative world we saw," I suggested, eagerly clutching at any straw, "showing us what could happen if we didn't work hard at our marriage. It could have been a sort of warning of what could happen to some people. But not us, of course!"
Marge's lonely little hand crept into mine for comfort and I began to warm up to the subject.
"Don't you worry about it," I assured her. "What would we ever find to quarrel about?"
The idea seemed so preposterous, we both began to laugh.
"I couldn't fight with you, Gerry," Marge said, snuggling closer.
"Me, neither," I said. "Don't worry about what we saw. The scientific boys will probably have a rational explanation worked out for the whole thing. I'll bet it's happened to lots of people."