Secrets Well Kept, page 7
“Phyllis! Hey, Phyllis!” She caught up to her as she headed for the exit.
“Hello, Mary.”
“Hi, Mrs. Campbell. Hi, Truman.” Mary took Phyllis’s hand. “In case I don’t see you later, I wanted to say congratulations and good luck.”
“Thanks.” Phyllis hugged her. “You too. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”
“Sure. Take care.” She knew Phyllis was right. It wasn’t like she was going anywhere; she’d be working down at Meyer’s. The thought depressed her beyond measure. She made her way back to Sam and her mother.
“Samuel tells me you two have plans for the evening,” Mrs. Trask said when she returned. “Don’t stay out too late and be careful.”
“We will. I promise to have Mary home before midnight.”
“Before eleven, you mean, right, Samuel?”
“Yes, ma’am. Before eleven.”
“Goodnight, Mother. Don’t wait up.” Mary kissed her on the cheek.
Sam put his arm around Mary. “I thought I’d take you to dinner at The Victor Café. What do you say?”
Mary’s stomach rumbled, a stark reminder that she hadn’t eaten all day. “Sure. That sounds nice.”
The restaurant was busy, but they were able to get a table in the front window. When they’d ordered and the waiter had retreated, Sam took Mary’s hands across the table.
“Now isn’t this nice?”
“It is.”
“When you marry me, I’ll treat you to dinners like this once a month, at least.”
Mary tried to liberate her hands, but Sam held fast.
“What’s the matter? You want to go out more often than that? Okay. I just thought we’d be saving to buy a house.”
Mary’s queasiness was back. “You’ve got it all planned out, don’t you?”
“Well, yeah. Isn’t that what the man is supposed to do? Take care of his wife and plan for the future? I thought that would make you happy—show you how responsible and reliable I am.”
Suddenly, Mary felt as though she couldn’t breathe, as though she was trapped with no way out. “Excuse me.” She threw her napkin on the table and hastened to the restroom. For long seconds, she stood at the sink, trying to take air into her lungs. She splashed cold water on her face and dried herself off. This is natural. You’re panicking over nothing. He’s saying the kinds of things anyone in his position would say. And what’s so bad about a guy who’s crazy about you wanting to take care of everything? Relax. Enjoy a nice dinner. You don’t have to answer him right now.
“Are you okay?”
Mary hadn’t noticed the woman standing at the next sink, re-applying her makeup. “I’m fine, thanks. Just a little light-headed from lack of food.”
“Well then, a restaurant is the right place to be.”
Mary smiled weakly. “You’re right. I’m sure I’ll be fine as soon as I have something to eat.”
“Have a nice night.”
“You too.” She exited the bathroom and returned to the table. Sam jumped up as she approached. He held her chair for her.
“Are you all right? I was worried about you. You were pale as a ghost.”
“I’m fine. I-I just didn’t have time to eat anything today.”
“Dig in.” Sam indicated the steaming plate of spaghetti with marinara sauce that had arrived while she was in the lavatory.
She was hungry and ate without pause. Afterward, she wiped her mouth and sat back.
“I think you liked it.” Sam grinned.
“Delicious. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. The sky is clear. Want to take a stroll and walk off all that pasta and garlic bread?”
“Sure.”
Sam settled the bill and held the door for her. He looped his arm through hers and they wandered the streets of South Philly.
“This is nice.” Mary meant it. For once, he wasn’t pressuring her or pushing her to decide.
“It is nice,” Sam agreed. “We could do this all the time when we’re married. You’d like that, right?”
There it was again. Mary’s heart stuttered.
“Right?”
Sam pulled them up short, spun her toward him, and kissed her hard on the mouth. Mary struggled against him. Finally, she stomped on his foot.
“Ouch!” He released his hold.
“Sam Abel, don’t you ever, ever do that to me again like that without my permission.”
“I have to ask you if it’s okay to kiss you? What the hell? I mean, what the heck? What is wrong with you?” He was breathing heavily.
Mary crossed her arms. “I don’t enjoy being pawed. I don’t know any girls that do.”
“And I don’t like being treated like I’m some sort of pervert just because I want to get close to my girl… You know, the one I’ve asked to marry me?”
They stood facing each other, less than a foot separating them. In truth, Mary noted ironically to herself, they were worlds apart.
“Are you ever going to give me an answer?”
“If you keep pestering me, you won’t like the answer, I can promise you that much.”
“Will I like the answer anyway, Mary? Will I? Are you just leading me on? Stringing me along?”
“N-no.” Was she? “I need more time. For Heaven’s sake, I just graduated tonight. My father is off fighting this horrible war and could die any minute… I can’t breathe. I need to breathe.”
“I’ll let you breathe, all right. You can find your own way home.” Sam stalked off.
“But…” How would she get home? Walk, that’s how.
It took her an hour and a half to make it to her house. Her feet were sore and blistered, her whole body ached, and she was chilled, not to mention that she was twenty minutes late for curfew.
“Mary? Is that you? I didn’t hear Samuel’s car pull up.”
“Yes, it’s me, Mother. Go to bed. I’ll lock up down here.”
“Did you have a good time?”
“Splendid.” She hoped the sarcasm wasn’t evident. She dragged herself upstairs and ran a bath. A good soak in the tub. That would make everything better.
You’ve got to be kidding me. Nora lost her grip on the suitcase and it clattered noisily to the floor. The lobby of the only completed women’s dormitory was overrun with young women scrambling around, looking for a room to call their own.
A woman who introduced herself as the housemother approached. “Welcome to bedlam.”
“Thanks, I think. I was told to report here to get settled.”
“You and everyone else.” The housemother squinted to get a better look at Nora’s badge. “Oh, my.” Her eyebrows rose into her hairline. “Give me a second.”
Nora wasn’t sure what it was about the badge that seemed to get people’s attention, but she wasn’t about to question it.
“All right. It took some wrangling, but I was able to get you a spot to yourself. It’s on the second floor. Rosalie here lives next door. She’ll show you the way. Curfew is at ten o’clock sharp, unless you have shift work. Otherwise, you’ll need my permission to be out past ten. Bathrooms are shared, so don’t tarry in there. You’ll have your own mail slot here in the lobby. Oh, and no men.”
Nora wondered if maybe she shouldn’t write it all down. There certainly seemed to be a lot of rules. “Yes, ma’am.”
“C’mon. I’ll show you the way.”
Rosalie, Nora noted, spoke with a very southern drawl. She would need to listen carefully to catch every word. “So, where’re you from?”
“Connecticut.” Was she allowed to say that?
Rosalie nodded, as if that made all the sense in the world. “I figured you for a Yankee.”
“Really? Why?” Despite her exhaustion, Nora was intrigued.
“The clothes. The accent. Heck, you sure aren’t from around these parts.”
That surprised a laugh out of her. “I guess I’ll need to work on blending in.”
“Nah. Different is good, I think. Connecticut is near New York, right? I always wanted to see New York. Never got there.”
Nora sized her up. “You’ve got your whole life ahead of you. I’m sure you’ll get there.”
“Honey, I’m from a podunk town in middle-of-nowhere Tennessee, about ninety miles from here. Knoxville is the biggest city I’ll ever see.”
“You don’t know that. Don’t give up on your dreams.”
“I like you.” Rosalie opened the second door on the left side of the hallway. “You’re nice—not like I’ve heard Yankees are.”
Nora wasn’t sure what to say to that, so she followed Rosalie into the room.
“Here you go, sugar.”
Nora put the suitcase down and turned in a circle. The space was small. It held a night table, a small dresser, a closet barely big enough for half her clothes, and a twin bed. The closet had no door, only a curtain separating it from the rest of the room.
“It’s probably not what you’re used to back up north, but you’ll adapt. Honestly, I’m surprised they sent you to bunk here.”
Nora walked over to the bed and tested the mattress with her hands. It seemed to be hard enough, but not too hard. She sat down and invited Rosalie to do the same. “Why does everybody keep saying that?”
“Saying what?”
“That I’m not in the right place. You must be the third person who’s made that observation.”
Rosalie shrugged, and Nora surmised that she was buying time until she could figure out how much was safe to say. Everyone in this place measured their words as if the walls had ears.
“You don’t have to answer that. I don’t want to violate any rules. I don’t even know what all the rules are yet, but I know I don’t want to put you in an awkward position.”
Rosalie leaned over and tapped Nora’s ID badge. “That’s why.”
“My name?”
“No. The “A” on your badge. That letter designates where you’re allowed to go in this place, who you’re allowed to talk to, and what you can hear. That “A” on your badge means you’ve got a really high-level clearance. I’ve only ever seen men with a clearance that high.”
“I see.”
“I work as a housing clerk at The Castle. I can tell you that none of the men with that level of clearance live in a dorm room.”
“They don’t?”
“No. They live in Cemestos, or at least Flat Tops.”
There was that word again. “What’s a Cemesto?”
“It’s a prefabricated house made of asbestos and cement. They come in several models, depending on the size of the family. They’re mostly for married folk, but high-level muckity-mucks live in those too, even if they’re single.” Rosalie covered her mouth. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to imply that you were a snob or anything. Obviously, you’re not.”
“That’s okay. No offense taken.”
“Anyway, I’ll leave you to get settled in. The bathroom is two doors down to your left at the top of the stairs. I’m next door to your right if you need anything.”
When Rosalie was gone, Nora flopped back on the bed. ID badges, Cemestos, Flat Tops… She felt like Alice falling through the looking glass.
Outside the door, she heard girls chattering away. From the snippets of conversation, it sounded like they were going dancing on a tennis court after dinner. Dancing on a tennis court?
Nora’s stomach rumbled, reminding her that it had been too long since she last ate. There was no icebox, stove, or anything resembling a kitchen. Where was she supposed to eat?
“Hey, Nora? It’s Rosalie,” her neighbor called through the closed door. “I forgot to tell you, there’s a cafeteria not far from here. That’s where we mostly eat. If you want, you can join me and some of the girls for dinner.”
Nora opened the door. “I’d like that.”
“Okay. Let’s go. You can unpack later.”
As if on cue, doors opened along the hallway and girls piled out and down the stairs. As much as Nora wanted to disappear into her own space and write in her journal, she knew she needed sustenance. Besides, the more she could learn about this place by listening, the better. She checked her hair in the little mirror over the dresser, grabbed her purse, and followed the crowd.
May – October, 1943
CHAPTER SEVEN
Meyer’s Drugstore was hopping. Every stool at the ice cream counter was taken, and the line at the pharmacist’s station snaked around aisle three. Mary wiped the perspiration from her forehead with a handkerchief. She wished she could stick her head in the ice cream freezer. The air in the store was stagnant. Just like my life.
She surveyed the crowd. Of the ten people waiting for prescriptions, she knew eight of them. That was the thing about a neighborhood drugstore—everyone knew everyone. And everyone knows everyone else’s business.
She recognized that she was in a foul mood. The truth was, she’d been in the same lousy frame of mind ever since graduation night.
“Can we get some service around here?”
“This line is moving slower than molasses.”
“By the time I get my prescription filled, I could be dead.”
Mary let the comments roll past her. It wouldn’t do to answer these folks, although she would’ve loved to give them all a piece of her mind. She worked through the line, despite the fact that she should’ve been on lunch break.
Twenty minutes later, she’d waited on the last customer. “I’m going on lunch break, Doc.”
“Okay. When you get back, we’ve got some more orders to place. We’re running out of bicarbonate and phosphorus.”
Mary stowed her lab coat and grabbed the lunch bag out of her locker. The old oak tree in the park across the street beckoned to her, as it did every day.
“Oh, I’m sor—”
“Hello, Mary.”
“Phyllis! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to run into you.”
“That’s okay. You were very…focused.”
“I’ve got half an hour for lunch and I am determined to spend it in the shade. How are you doing? How’s your mother?” She hadn’t seen either of them since graduation.
“She’s still spending her days sitting in the living room chair, staring out the window. I think she believes that if she sits there long enough, my dad will somehow mysteriously appear, walking up the street.”
“I’m sorry. That must be so hard for you.”
“Honestly, I’m at my wit’s end. The only thing that makes it bearable is planning for our wedding.”
“Have you and Truman set a date? Do you want to come sit with me? You can tell me all about it. I’m starving.”
Phyllis checked her watch. “Sure. I’ve got a few minutes.”
They settled on a picnic blanket under the tree and Mary pulled out a tomato sandwich and an apple. “Do you want some?”
“No thanks. I had lunch a little while ago.”
Mary bit into the sandwich. “So, tell me about the wedding and what you’re going to do about your mother.”
“The wedding will be in October. Truman thinks we should sell the house and buy one of our own with an in-law suite for my mother. He thinks the change of scenery will be good for her so that she’s not constantly surrounded by reminders.”
“Truman’s a smart man. He’s willing to have her live with you?”
“Oh, yes. He’s fine with it. He and my mother get along famously.”
Mary thought about her mother and Sam. They were thick as thieves. Not a day went by that her mother didn’t ask why she hadn’t seen him in a while.
“What did you decide to do about Sam?”
Had she read her mind? Mary sighed heavily. “We had a terrible fight the night of graduation. We’ve been sort of in limbo ever since.”
“I’m sorry to hear—”
“Mary? Can I speak to you for a minute? I know it’s the middle of your workday, but…”
Sam stood above them. He held a half-dozen red roses in one hand.
“I’ve got to get back to Mom,” Phyllis said. She rose and brushed off her skirt. “It was good to see you, Mary.”
“Tell your mother I said hello.”
“I will.” Phyllis waved.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to run Phyllis off, only… I feel horrible and I can’t get what happened out of my mind.” Sam handed the flowers to Mary. “These are for you. A peace offering.” He sat down opposite her. “Aren’t you at least glad to see me?”
She set the flowers on the blanket. “You should be glad to see me. I could’ve been dead on the side of the road the way you left me stranded in the middle of the night.”
“I know. I said I’m sorry. I lost my head. I didn’t know what to do. All I know is, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep. All I think about is you.”
“You have a funny way of showing it.” The queasiness had returned; Mary stuffed the remains of the sandwich in the bag.
“You said you needed time. So I’ve hung back and waited. But the wait is killing me, Mare. I know what I want. I want you and me to be together forever. I’ve given you room to breathe. What do you say? Please. I’m begging you here, and that’s not easy for me.”
Mary plucked a buttercup from the ground and twirled it in her fingers. To her mortification, tears sprang to her eyes.
“What is it? What is it, Mare?” Awkwardly, Sam reached out to comfort her.
“I don’t know.” She shook her head and shrugged off his touch. “I have to get back. Doc will be missing me.” Hurriedly, she wiped her eyes and rose.
Sam stood, as well. “Say you’ll at least meet me at the park tonight after dinner. We can just sit and talk. I promise, I won’t lay a finger on you.”
He looked so lost. “Okay.” She grabbed the lunch bag and ran across the street.
“Wait! You forgot the flowers and your blanket.”
She ignored him and kept running until she reached her locker. Her hands shook and her breathing was shallow. She rested her forehead against the cool metal of the locker. She couldn’t keep doing this. She simply…couldn’t.
Nora hid a yawn behind her hand. The air in the auditorium was stale and hot. Several of the women among the fifty or so new hires fanned themselves with paper fans. The speaker, an ominous-looking fellow, droned on about the enemy having eyes and ears everywhere.
