The Women's Room (Virago Modern Classics)

by Marilyn French

  Linda pouted.

  ‘Turn on the TV.’

  The baby cried. Adele went up and knocked on the bathroom door. ‘Hurry up out of that tub.’ She changed the baby and carried her downstairs. She took a jar from the refrigerator and placed it in a pan of water. ‘Eric!’ she yelled up. There was no answer. She marched up the stairs to the bathroom and opened the door swiftly. Eric glanced at her guiltily. There was water all over the floor; he was sitting in the tub, pink with warmth, a toy airplane in his hand. She marched into the bathroom, almost slipping on the water, pulled the plug in the tub, and lifted Eric out by one arm, roughly. Roughly, with a terry towel, she dried him, then said, Now, you get in your pajamas and get your homework done.’ She got down on the floor and sponged up the spilled water. Well, it’s one way to get the bathroom floor cleaned, she supposed and thought she would repeat that to the girls tomorrow.

  When she got back to the kitchen, the water in the pan was boiling. She took the jar out with pot holders and placed it in the sink. She heated a bottle.

  ‘Time for bed, Linda,’ she called. Linda rose, sidled into the kitchen, and looked reproachfully at her mother.

  ‘Bed,’ Adele said firmly. Linda turned on her heel, and with a certain erectness of neck and shoulders, let her mother know what she thought of her. She marched solemnly and severely up the stairs.

  Adele poured some milk into the cereal bowl and fed the baby cereal and jarred plums. She left the baby in the high chair, giving her rubber toys to play with, and set about cleaning up the kitchen. She realized she had not eaten. She scraped the leftovers from the children’s plates into the spaghetti pot, and ate what was left in it.

  Eric and Billy were quarreling. She ordered Billy to bring his homework downstairs and Eric to go to bed. Eric was unhappy. He muttered about unfairness, he slammed the bedroom door. She finished cleaning the kitchen, then glanced at the clock.

  ‘Billy?’

  ‘Yes,’ came a reluctant sigh.

  ‘Did you finish your homework?’

  ‘Yes.’ Almost groaned.

  ‘Okay, bedtime.’

  ‘Oh, Mom, can’t I just see the end of this program?’

  ‘All right. But as soon as it’s over …’

  ‘It’s a movie, Mom.’

  ‘What time is it over?’

  ‘Ten o’clock.’

  ‘Well, you can just go right now, young man.’

  ‘Oh, can’t I …’

  ‘NO!’

  Reluctantly, he turned off the set; reluctantly he kissed her. But she kissed him hard and held him for a minute, and he hugged her then, and laid his cheek against hers. They stayed that way for a few moments, then he went up.

  It was after nine. The house was silent. Adele carried the baby upstairs and put her in the crib with her bottle, praying. And Mindy, just as if she hadn’t had three naps, fell off to sleep. She’ll probably wake up at four, Adele sighed and went into the bathroom. She drew bathwater and poured in bath oil, a luxury at ninety-eight cents a bottle, but one she felt she owed herself. She bathed, put on her nightgown and robe, and went back downstairs. She relished the silence; she felt she was eating it, breathing it in. She poured herself a glass of wine. The hell with him. She sat down in the living room. It was a mess: the doll things were sprawled over one corner, Billy’s social studies project was piled on a chair, and some unhung coats were thrown over the other chair. Paul’s tie, which he had removed when he was sitting with Linda, dangled over the couch. Adele picked up the tie and hung it over the banister, resolutely turned her eyes away from the rest, and sat down. This is your life, Mrs O’Neill.

  She had looked in the mirror after getting out of the bath, and had seen a broad, handsome face with shiny black hair curling round it. It was a face. It could have been, she thought idly, in a magazine. She’d seen worse. But she didn’t want to be in a magazine, that wasn’t it. She had never wanted a glamorous life. She thought about Linda’s resentment as she drifted off to sleep, and Eric’s muttering. She thought about Mikey’s terrified face as he looked at her after he overturned the playpen, and Linda’s dead white face after she dropped the milk. Tears came into her eyes; she put her head in her hands. ‘Oh, God, help me, please help me. I don’t want to be bad. I don’t want them to be frightened of me, my own babies; oh, God, what’s wrong with me? I try not to yell at them. I don’t want to be unhappy, I don’t want them to be unhappy. I want to be good, oh, Mary, mother of God, help me, show me the way.’ She thought about the martyred saints of the Church, about Mary Magdalen, about Christ’s sufferings on the cross. She knew that if she were better, she would be able to be good enough, she could be kind, patient, and loving, which is all she had ever wanted to be. She slid onto the floor and knelt by the couch and prayed.

  ‘Give me strength, oh Lord, let me not be cruel to them, I love them so much.’

  She rose wearily. It was early, and she thought about watching TV for a while, or reading the newspaper. But she felt exhausted. She went into the kitchen and poured herself another glass of wine, turned off all lights but the front door and front hallway, picked up Paul’s tie, and went upstairs.

  She switched on the lamp in the bedroom and looked around. It was a shabby room; she always closed the door when she had company. They had never had the money to fix it up. There was a double bed without a headboard and a couple of old, uncomplementary dressers. An orange crate on its side served as a bed table. She always intended to paint it, but never seemed to have time.

  I suppose if I didn’t sit for an hour with the girls, she started to think, then brushed it away. I need it for my sanity, she concluded.

  She lowered herself onto the bed like an invalid, and sat there, hunched over, her hands clasped between her knees. She thought about Paul and how beautiful he had looked going out. Fancy dinner: they probably even had shrimp cocktail. She wondered if the other lawyers had brought their wives; she wondered if all the lawyers were men. Then brushed that away as unworthy: another sign of her evil, miserable, suspicious, jealous nature. Of course … but he always came home to her. She could not ask more. She sipped her wine, and then, like a person who had been putting off looking at her bankbook because she knows the last withdrawal probably canceled her account, but who now decides to face facts, she pulled a small book from the stack of papers and paperback mysteries in the orange crate. She opened it to a calendar. She counted days, over and over again. She sat there gazing into space, her face unmoving, her lips stiff. She could hear Paul’s voice: ‘It’s up to you, Adele, I’m not fanatic about it. It is getting a bit heavy. I’ll use something so you don’t have to.’ He acted as if it was all her doing. But it wasn’t. It wasn’t: there was a higher law. She had to obey.

  ‘Please, God, let me learn to be patient. Let me learn to accept Your Will. Behold, I am the handmaiden of the Lord.’

  But her face was furrowed and her lips grim; there was no grace on her. She was sure her prayers never mounted to heaven.

  11

  Natalie’s acidity and bluntness upset Adele, who believed in politeness, and although she liked Mira, she always had the feeling that Mira somewhat looked down on her. It was Bliss she felt closest to, and Elizabeth, but Elizabeth lived across town and they rarely got to see each other. It was easy to carry the kids over the fence for a cup of coffee for an hour; it was a project to drag them all the way over to Elizabeth’s. Bliss was polite and soft-spoken and very feminine, which Adele admired. There was something almost – mannish – about Natalie’s dress and movements, about Mira’s speech. Bliss laughed a lot and had that easy casualness that Adele tried to emulate. And even if she was not Catholic, she seemed to understand.

  Bliss was having coffee in Adele’s kitchen. The women had never, in the three years they’d been friends, criticized each other. When they spoke of each other it was to give news, to analyse feelings, at least superficially. But Adele was feeling terribly angular; she had had coffee with Mira the day before and Mira had
shown her their new chairs and lamp tables. The house had been clean and orderly and empty: Normie was at school all day now, and Clark was in kindergarten. Mira had been reading philosophy when Adele came in with Mikey and Mindy, and she felt the kids had sloppied up Mira’s house. She was uncomfortable, and decided she would not go to Mira’s again. She felt better going where there was already a house full of kids.

  So she said, ‘Sometimes I think Mira’s neurotic, you know? I mean, why would she read those fancy books? As if she were trying to show off.’

  Bliss laughed that soft laugh of hers, down in her throat, like a laughed sigh. ‘Bill says she’s overeducated.’

  ‘She’s always talking about women’s rights.’

  ‘I don’t think she’s happy staying at home.’

  Adele looked shocked. ‘What does she expect? She has kids. She is neurotic. Sometimes I pray for her at night.’

  ‘Listen, don’t forget me. We can all use a few prayers,’ Bliss laughed softly. ‘This morning Bill had to get to the airport by eight and you should have seen the madhouse. Then Cheryl decided she had a sore throat and didn’t want to go to school, and Midge cried and said she wasn’t going if Cheryl wasn’t going,’ Bliss laughed. ‘So everybody stayed home and watched TV.’

  ‘Don’t you worry about them missing school so often?’ Adele’s voice had a brittle edge.

  ‘No,’ Bliss shrugged. ‘They don’t learn anything anyway.’ She stirred sugar into her coffee. ‘I wouldn’t send them at all – they learn more from TV – but I want to get them out of the house.’

  All the women bad-mouthed their kids this way. They laughed about telling them to go play in the traffic, or called them ‘the brats.’ All except Mira, who found this immoral, although she also thought it might be their way of balancing their almost single-minded love for concern about their children. But when Bliss did it, it had such a relaxed, comic feel that you could not believe she meant it at all; when Natalie did it, it sounded real.

  ‘Well,’ Adele frowned, ‘Billy’s doing well in school; he seems to be learning a lot.’

  ‘Oh, I suppose it’s different for a boy.’

  ‘Yes.’ Adele fiddled with her spoon. ‘But you couldn’t say that to Mira. She’d get indignant. But what good did all her education do her?’

  ‘Well, I feel my education was worthwhile,’ Bliss said smiling, reminding Adele that Mira might have gone to college but only Bliss, of the women in their group, had graduated. ‘Someday I’ll go back and teach first grade. Meantime, I have to keep the three first-graders I live with in line. It’s good experience. The classroom will be a snap after this.’ She was laughing as she spoke.

  Adele laughed. ‘What grade is Cheryl in now? Third?’

  ‘That’s what it says on her report card, but I don’t believe it.’

  ‘What does it say on Bill’s report card?’

  ‘It says he’s a navigator, but that’s only when he’s working. The rest of the time he’s a first-grader too.’

  Adele envied Bliss her ease with her husband. Bliss teased him that way right to his face and he laughed along with her. Adele would never dare do that. It wasn’t that she was afraid of Paul, it was … well, she wasn’t sure what it was. Bliss lived easily too. She didn’t worry about laundry piled in the living room, or whether or not her kids ate. Of course, she had only two, and Bill was home a lot and she could get out by herself to go marketing or shopping. But he didn’t help her that much: most of the time he sat upstairs in the little room he’d built in the attic, and made model airplanes.

  ‘Are you going marketing tonight?’

  ‘Yes. Norm’s supposed to be home, so I’m dropping my kids at Mira’s and driving her. Want to come?’

  ‘I can’t. Paul has a meeting tonight. But you could pick up some instant for me. I’m nearly out.’

  ‘Sure. Anything else?’

  Adele’s brow clouded. ‘Well … if it’s not too much trouble, could you get me some milk? My car’s on the blink and we can’t afford to get it fixed this week.’

  ‘Sure. A gallon?’

  ‘Yes. Oh, thanks, Bliss. That’s a real help. I don’t know what I’d do without my friends.’ Her throat got thick. ‘They’re all so great,’ she continued, but by now there were tears in her eyes. Bliss sat quiet, watching her.

  Adele lifted her head and looked across at her friend.

  ‘What is it?’ Bliss finally asked quietly.

  ‘Oh, nothing,’ Adele said, regaining the brittle cheerful voice she used, and reaching for a tissue to blow her nose. ‘Just,’ and her voice broke again, ‘I’m pregnant again.’

  ‘Oh, God!’

  ‘Well, what’s one more,’ cheerfully spoken.

  But Bliss just sat there, and Adele began to cry. ‘It must’ve been after Natalie’s party. Paul and I got a little high and … you know … and even though it was the wrong time, we took a chance.’

  ‘What does Paul say?’

  She shrugged. ‘He’s really wonderful. I mean he says it’s up to me. He doesn’t get aggravated. He says he’s going to do well in time, and there will be enough money. He doesn’t worry. But I …’

  ‘You don’t want it.’

  ‘It isn’t that I don’t want it. I love kids. It’s just … I don’t know, it’s all so hard, I can’t cope …’ She had stopped crying and had dried her face. She looked blotchy and swollen and dried out. She stared at the wall.

  ‘Adele,’ Bliss said slowly, ‘I know it’s against your religion, but have you thought about an abortion? You know, Mindy’s still in diapers, and Mikey isn’t two yet. It will be an awful handful.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘And you’re only … what are you?’

  ‘I’ll be thirty next week.’

  ‘Billy’s only eight. It will be years before the kids can help you.’

  ‘I know.’

  Bliss was silent then, but so was Adele. Bliss feared she had angered her friend. ‘You probably think it’s wrong …’

  ‘I don’t!’ Adele burst out. ‘I’d love to get one! But if I did it, I’d have to go to confession and say I was sorry, but I wouldn’t be sorry so I couldn’t say it so I couldn’t go to confession and I could never take communion again!’ It poured out like a stream of rage.

  ‘Oh, God,’ Bliss murmured softly.

  Adele rose and reached for the wine bottle. It was nearly empty and it crossed her mind to ask Bliss to pick up some more for her so Paul wouldn’t see … ‘Oh, we’ll get by, I guess. By the time the baby’s born, Mindy will be walking and if I work hard with her, she may be out of diapers. There’s room for another bed in the girls’ room. So if it’s a girl, we’re okay,’ she laughed. ‘The Women’s Guild is talking about starting a nursery school. The church will let us use some of their rooms, and we’d chip in one afternoon a week and have to hire only one full-time person, to direct. And it would be cheap. Mikey will be old enough for that. Money will be tight for another couple of years, until Paul pays off his partnership, but then things should be good. My car’s on its last legs, but …’ She rubbed her forehead.

  Bliss gazed at her. She had been shocked to hear that Adele was a year younger than she was. Adele’s face was pretty, prettier than her own, but it was already lined, and her dark hair was showing gray. Bliss thought Adele’s church was cruel to its women, but did not say so.

  ‘Sure,’ she said cheerfully. ‘And while it’s a baby it won’t matter whether it’s a girl or a boy, you can put the crib in the girls’ room until you get a bigger house. And by the time it’s born, Billy will be nine and Eric will be seven and Linda will be six and Mikey will be in nursery school and Mindy will be walking, and you won’t have anything to do!’

  They both laughed then. ‘That’s what Paul said when I told him about the nursery school. He says nursery schools are for spoiled women who want to play bridge all afternoon.’

  She poured the wine in two glasses, and handed one to Bliss.

  ‘Want
me to pick up some more wine for you tonight?’ Bliss asked.

  ‘Sure!’ Adele said with real cheer, as if she were making a declaration of independence. She sat down smiling. And I have all those baby clothes.’

  ‘I’d think they’d be worn out by now.’

  ‘Oh, they were! This is the second batch. Might as well use them up.’

  ‘Sure.’ Bliss’s face became serious then. ‘But after this …’

  ‘I don’t want to think about it. I just don’t want to think about it.’

  ‘Well,’ Bliss said, smiling again, ‘at least you can feel safe for the next few months.’

  Adele laughed, and Bliss added, ‘The one compensation for pregnancy.’

  12

  Bliss had a pale oval face that gleamed white in the mirror of the unlighted room. Her gestures were slow and graceful, her body long and slender. Her eyes gave away intelligence, a careful mind that summed up situations before allowing her to act. She dressed well for her means, in tight pants that showed her ass, and soft loose shirts. She had soft speech and a soft laugh and she revealed little about herself to anyone. She did not trust people.

  She took her children to Mira’s and picked her friend up and they drove to the supermarket. It was very crowded, as always on Friday nights. They did not talk much in the market; both concentrated intently on getting the best food for the least money. This is quite a skill, even an art. It involves understanding food, knowing how to make a delicious navarin from a cheap cut of lamb, or soups from bones – which in those days you could get free – and an inexpensive cut of beef. Funny. I spent years of my life learning how to do it and I am very good at it, but now I don’t need to do it at all.

  After they got back in the car, Bliss told Mira about Adele.

  ‘Oh, no! Poor soul! She’s on the brink of a breakdown as it is.’

  ‘She’s too tense. She doesn’t know how to take things easy. If I were Adele, I’d just tell Paul he had to be home one night a week so I could go out. She’s not demanding enough. I wouldn’t let him get away with what he gets away with.’