‘And human.’ Moira remembered Ann comforting her about Randy. ‘Cry, it’s good for you. To be honest, it’s good for me, too.’
‘Well, just look at the two of us.’ Teddy shook her head. ‘We need a party.’
Teddy was a little more relaxed by Saturday night. She dusted the mantelpiece, reviewing the worst possibilities. She might not be able to follow the pace of their conversation. She might appear too cold or too shy. She might not be able to control the jealousy she felt about Moira and Vivian. They might ask her about her ‘man in the war’ and what could she say? As she considered each possibility in excruciating detail, she realized she would survive.
The next dilemma had been clothes. Both Vivian and Dorothy were very chic. Moira complained of feeling like a slouch in comparison. Teddy had dug out the black dress she had worn to Mr Nakatani’s funeral. She didn’t trust any of her country prints or bright blouses. At least she would look dignified, tailored, maybe even invisible. Teddy had to get rid of this chip she carried on her shoulder from Oklahoma. These people weren’t Roosevelts. Vivian, according to Moira, was from a poor neighborhood in the Bronx. Dorothy lost her father when she was five and her mother when she was fifteen. Lord, she hoped they wouldn’t be wearing slacks. Moira called from the top of the stairs, ‘You seen my red belt?’ Teddy was pleased to see Moira in her grey-striped shirtwaist and red pumps. Yes, it was right to dress up for your women friends. Why not? She had always dressed up for Angela. All week she had been aching to tell Moira about Angela.
‘Hello, Teddy,’ Moira called again, ‘have you seen my …’
‘Oh, sorry, did you check my room? I think you dropped it the other night when you came in from the party. Try the chair.’ Teddy considered how she enjoyed it when Moira dropped things in her room.
‘Thanks.’ Moira came bounding down the stairs. ‘Hey, country girl, you OK tonight?’
‘Do me a favor,’ Teddy sighed. ‘Don’t call me “country girl” this evening.’
‘Hey, friend,’ Moira grinned, ‘what’s wrong? You still nervous?’
‘I want it to be a nice party.’
‘Listen, honey, with all the hors d’oeuvres and flowers you’ve laid in, it’ll be a nice weekend.’ Moira stopped, seeing that she was upsetting Teddy more. ‘They’re just my friends. Riveters in the shipyard. You’ll love them. They’ll love you.’
Teddy stretched her neck back.
‘How’s Virg?’ Moira inquired tentatively.
‘He’s fine. It’s Mom. We’re all going down to see him off tomorrow. Mom will be OK. I just wish it were over. I mean, I wish the damn war were over.’
‘I know, honey. Look, can I come along tomorrow?’
Teddy was taken aback.
‘I mean, would your family mind? Would I be in the way?’ Moira knew she had a knack for butting in. She remembered when Mr Minelli broke his arm, tripping on the sidewalk, how she had run around for the doctor and the ambulance as if she handled emergencies every day. Grateful Mrs Minelli had just sat there on the pavement with her husband, paralyzed, and amazed that their scatty young neighbor could be taking charge. Butting in was OK that time. But Moira also remembered inviting herself to Ann’s class and how Ann never brought it up again. ‘I mean,’ Moira continued more slowly, ‘if it’s a family thing, I don’t want to impose.’
‘Oh, no, they wouldn’t mind. And it’d make me feel real good. It’s not necessary, though. Weren’t you going to the matinee tomorrow? Listen, don’t change your plans for me.’
‘Who else would I change them for? You’re my best friend.’
Teddy took her hand. She would remember that tonight.
‘By the way, you look real swish in that outfit.’
Teddy frowned, but decided that Moira was telling the truth.
Vivian and Dorothy arrived together, twenty minutes late. Fashionably late, Teddy realized dismally, conscious of how hungry she was.
Dorothy was wearing a kelly green print dress, like the one Teddy’s Mother had made her last Christmas. And Vivian really did look like she had walked out of the Ladies Home Journal. Still Teddy noticed that underneath all the shine and style, she seemed jittery.
‘Great house,’ Vivian said, walking swiftly around the living room.
Teddy remembered their first party when she nervously entertained Angela and Rosa and wound up trying to dance with Randy. She felt grateful for the calm she felt now. Compared to Vivian, she was in slow motion. Did Vivian remember she had made this same remark when she dropped by last month?
‘The piano,’ Vivian exclaimed. ‘Who plays the piano? Not you, Moira lass, with the tin ear. Oh, that’s right, you mentioned Teddy plays, doesn’t she?’
‘Yes,’ Moira said proudly. ‘Maybe we can talk her into a concert later.’
‘What do you play?’ asked Dorothy in a light, friendly voice.
Ridiculous to have feared these women, Teddy thought. Moira interjected before she could answer.
‘Oh, just about anything. Rag. Swing. Blues. Even some classical.’
Teddy ushered them to the couch, hoping to change the topic.
‘Where did you learn?’ Dorothy persisted.
‘Oh, I didn’t. I just picked it up. You know, by listening.’ Teddy noticed with approval that all her words had emerged in order.
‘I wish I was creative!’ Vivian sighed.
‘But you are.’ Teddy spoke without hesitation. ‘The way you dress!’ She hoped she hadn’t embarrassed the woman. ‘I mean …’
‘Listen, honey, it’s OK. I love comments on my outfits. And you’re right. It’s a different kind of talent, but not as entertaining as playing piano.’
Moira laughed with Dorothy. Teddy regarded both of them and smiled uneasily.
The hors d’oeuvres course progressed quickly. In fact, it was Moira who said, ‘Shouldn’t we serve supper? I’m starving.’ She led them into the dining room.
‘What is it?’ asked Dorothy as Teddy set down the covered dish. ‘Smells terrific.’
‘Baked spaghetti,’ said Moira, trying to conceal her tension. ‘A speciality of the house.’
‘I thought that was lasagne. Is this another Italian dish?’ asked Vivian. ‘Delicious, bet you made it though, Teddy.’
Teddy shrugged. There was something seductive about Vivian. On the other hand, Teddy didn’t appreciate these cracks about Moira. Still, Moira seemed to be taking it pretty well.
Moira nodded. ‘Yeah, Teddy’s the cook and the gardener around here. I’m better at the scullery maid stuff. And the décor. Very femme minus a few standard talents.’
Teddy gulped; she hadn’t heard the word ‘femme’ outside the bars. Moira changed the subject, ‘So what do you think of So Proudly We Hail?’
‘Best movie all year,’ sighed Vivian.
‘You think so?’ Dorothy frowned. ‘Those nurses on Bataan had it tough all right. I admired them. But it wasn’t much of a woman’s film. You know, I liked Mrs Miniver. No one can beat Greer Garson.’
‘That was last year.’ Vivian shook her head. ‘Anyway, it was too gushy for my taste.’
‘I liked Ann Southern in Swing Shift Maisie,’ Teddy said.
‘Yeah,’ Moira agreed. ‘That aircraft plant reminded me of the shipyard.’ She hoped Vivian and Dorothy might recount some of the funny incidents from work about Sergeant Tom or Mrs Leaman. Instead they got tangled in gripes about payroll. Vivian went on a long tirade scolding Moira to leave the plateshop for some open air. It was time for dessert before they left the topic of the shipyard. Teddy seemed to be faring OK, paying her quiet attention to each guest.
Over the cake, Vivian asked Teddy about her job. Teddy said that the Emporium, like many department stores, had been getting complaints about shoddy clothes, ripped seams and shrinking. Standards had gone down since the war started. But they were hand
ling it. She talked enthusiastically about the War Bond Drive.
Moira was surprised to hear Teddy being so forthcoming, so relaxed. She felt ashamed to consider how little she, herself, knew about Teddy’s job. For instance, she didn’t know that Teddy had started a Red Cross campaign at the store. Vivian was quite adept at drawing people out.
‘So our “navy wives” meeting is all set?’ Dorothy put in.
‘Right.’ Moira nodded.
‘Do you have anybody in the service?’ Dorothy asked Teddy.
‘Brother who just joined in the army. And two others. And a friend in the WAFs.’
‘The WAFs.’ Vivian frowned, as if grasping a thought that had been eluding her all evening.
Teddy recognized her mistake. The only way out was to proceed naturally. ‘The Women’s Auxiliary Flying Corps’; they bring arms and equipment to bases across the country. The friend is our neighbor, Angela.’
‘The lasagne lady, I bet.’ Vivian laughed.
‘Yeah,’ smiled Teddy. She would have to talk to Moira soon. There was something about Vivian that recalled Dawn’s toughness and Angela’s sarcasm.
After coffee, Dorothy looked at her watch and made moving noises. Before they left the table, Vivian turned to Teddy. ‘This has been great. Let’s do it again. Why don’t you come over to my roominghouse in a couple of weeks? We’ve got a piano in the common room. I’d love to hear you. And I’ll treat you to my mother’s pièce de résistance, Meatloaf à la Swenson.’
‘A deal.’ Teddy offered her hand.
Teddy cleared the table as Moira washed dishes.
‘Well, you certainly came out.’ Moira glanced over her shoulder.
Teddy paused in the doorway.
‘I mean you were a social butterfly.’
‘You think I talked too much?’
‘No, no, I’m happy you got on with them is all. Vivian took a shine to you.’
Teddy blushed. ‘Was it OK that I agreed to go to Vivian’s house?’
‘I’m delighted. I was afraid you wouldn’t like Vivian.’
‘So was I. Just shows I judge people too quickly.’
‘You too?’ Moira wiped the hair off her face with her forearm. ‘Teddy isn’t the kindest person in the world? Where will you find a new character to play, my dear?’
‘Enough.’ Teddy felt bold and high because the evening had gone much better than she had reckoned. ‘Enough,’ she repeated, pleased by the sass in her voice, ‘or I won’t share our special dessert.’
‘Wasn’t the cake enough?’
‘I saved Ann’s letter. We got it this afternoon. I thought it would be fun to read when everybody left. Something to relax with.’
Teddy sat down at the table as Moira put the last dish in the rack. Pouring the remainder of the tea into their cups, Moira nodded to Teddy.
Dear Moira and Teddy,
How are you? Thanks so much for the last package. It arrived intact, with surprise after surprise.
The work has become more clear to me lately. How can one be clear in chaos? Believe me, you have to be thinking six things at once here. How are you going to find something to eat tonight? What will happen if there’s another air raid? How many kids will be returned to the hostels? What’s happening in the camps with their parents? So many practical crises as well as broad international tangles. I don’t know how Esther and Sheila have been able to go it alone all these months.
The kids are the bright side — with their eager faces — scared, but always brave. I feel so privileged in comparison. Can you imagine being uprooted and sent to a country where they don’t speak your language? Can you imagine not knowing if you’ll ever see your parents again? Yet their courage renews my faith in human endurance.
I’ve thought a lot about having kids since I came over. There’s something about the eradication that makes you think about reproducing. I don’t know if I would have the patience to raise a kid. And it would interfere with scholarly work. But I don’t know how important all that is any more. Coming face-to-face with daily misery diminishes the urgency of Latin conjugations.
I know Moira, you’re saying this war will be over one day and that I shouldn’t throw away my ambitions. Teddy, I know you’ll be worrying that I’m taking all this too seriously, that I’m running myself down.
Teddy set aside the letter and took a sip of tea. Moira patted her arm.
‘Who needs letters when you can read minds?’ Teddy sniffed, but she was concerned about Ann. The girl had a way of living in her head, following her will to the extreme. This was the source of her headaches, Teddy was convinced.
But really, my ambitions are shifting — getting larger. I think more and more about changing the world rather than understanding it. I don’t know. Could I just have the DT’s?
One of the best parts of working here has been the girls in the office. Esther and Sheila are bricks. They are completely reliable in the face of thunder. There’s also a man named Reuben. I like him — quiet and reliable. Sometimes a little moody, but generally a steadying influence around here. He asked me to go to the movies next week. As much as I loathe British films with all that hectic, slapstick humor, I’m looking forward to the evening. We’ll see.
Thanks for keeping tabs on my parents. I’ve really appreciated the letters from each of you. I know Mama is grateful for the company, even if she doesn’t respond. Papa wrote and told me you invited him to supper. He was very pleased to have two young women doting on him. For my part, it’s such a relief to be away for a while. Daniel writes occasionally, but by the time I get his letters it’s so late I often wonder if he’s still alive. You can’t endure with thoughts like that. You have to stop worrying sometimes. But … I’m rambling. Whatever happened to the fine art of letter writing Papa taught me? Concentrate on the pleasant topics, ask about your friend, be positive and make sure each paragraph is a clear statement. Clear statement — I’d be delighted if I could find one in this entire day.
So tell me about YOUR days. I know you must be having it tough with the rations and the confusing news. (At least I know for sure whether London was bombed last night.) Sometimes I think it would be harder to be back there, knowing even less than I do here.
Tell me everything. What’s happening with Virgil, Teddy, has he enlisted yet? And your work? And Angela? And you, Moi, I’m sure you’re worried about Randy. How’s the job? Are you able to keep up with the acting. I think you should. Despite all my equivocating on the previous page, I must admit I’m considering a night course. Living is not just enduring. It’s being whole and unless I’m whole I can’t do this job.
Heard from Wanda last week. She seems to be doing better. I think it’s great you’re going to visit her, Teddy. Who would have imagined when we sat in typing class that we’d be scattered like this, writing letters across the world?
I promise the next letter will be less jumpy. I guess I just needed to use this as a diary tonight. Let me finish by saying I think I’m doing ‘something’ here. And there are personal gains. Despite their ridiculous humor, I’ve come to love the British, for their resolve. Moira, you’ll be pleased to know that the Scots are some of the toughest. Persistent and no nonsense. You should see how people recover after these blasts. They’re selling goods from bombed-out hovels and living in the most precarious buildings because they don’t want to leave their homes. Often I think of Stockton Street before I go to sleep. I imagine the four of us sitting in the living room sharing war stories. I do believe this will happen. My only worry is when. How much more devastation will we have to face first? Remember you’re in my thoughts. Keep well and take care of each other. All my love, Ann.
‘Well, she’s in a pensive mood.’ Moira smiled.
‘Yes, it’s nice to see her being so personal. I shouldn’t criticize since I’m a terrible letter writer, but the other letters worried me, so dry and fact
ual. Anyway, she seems OK.’
‘Yeah, I know what she means about being happy apart from her family. It’s the only way to survive.’
Teddy felt sad for Moira. She was grateful that her own family, despite all the troubles, was a source of comfort to her.
‘What she says about Daniel and the letters,’ Moira straightened her collar, ‘it’s just what I was explaining about Randy. It’s hard not knowing. He’s so god damned cheerful in his letters that it’s even worse when he does write.’
Teddy nodded.
‘But I’ve already worn out that topic for tonight. The stuff about the Scots is interesting. We do have a stubborn streak I guess.’
‘Guess so.’ Teddy raised her eyes affectionately. She sipped her tea, thinking about Reuben. They would have already gone to the film. Who knows what would happen with them.
‘I wonder about that Reuben guy,’ Moira said. ‘Sounds temperamental. I just hope she’s careful.’
‘What’s wrong with a little romance?’ Teddy teased.
Moira searched her friend’s face. ‘Now you’re the funny one. I thought you were always worrying about us going off and marrying and leaving you.’
Teddy pulled back, unable to focus for a moment.
‘Don’t worry, honey. I’m not saying you’ve blocked the church door. Just that you’ve been concerned. Look, I’m not complaining.’ She held Teddy’s arm. ‘We’ve all enjoyed the attention. And we all knew it wasn’t anything serious — that you weren’t our possessive stepmother or anything.’
‘Well, I guess I did have dreams about us living here a few more years.’ Now she was on the verge of crying. How stupid.
‘Hey, hey. Here we’ve had a lovely evening with friends. We’ve just read a great letter from Ann. And we’re talking about romance. What could be the matter?’
Teddy stared down at her lap. Did she want to confess about Angela? To brag? To instruct? Was it safe to talk now?
All Good Women Page 22
