A Woman's Place (20 page)

“‘Meat of dogs,”’ Tena said. “‘Very cheap!”’ And they both laughed until their sides ached.

CHAPTER 17

*   
Virginia
   *

Ginny stood by the huge open factory doors with the other women from her crew, bundled in her coat and scarf against the wintry air. Excitement shivered through her as she gazed up at the magnificent landing craft that was about to be launched.

“Isn’t that the most beautiful sight you ever seen?” Rosa asked above the noise. She slipped her gloved hand into Ginny’s and squeezed it. “I feel like dancing!”

“Yes—and it’s
our
ship.”

A government official climbed the steps to a wooden platform and cracked a bottle of champagne against the hull to launch the first landing craft that Ginny’s team had ever completed. Slowly the ship began to move, sliding majestically into the river.

“There she goes!” Ginny cheered.

“What a waste of good champagne,” Rosa said with a moan. “They could of at least given us a sip or two, wouldn’t you think?”

“I feel giddy enough without it,” Ginny said with a laugh. “Wow! It’s so beautiful! And it’s all ours!” She pulled a handkerchief from her coat pocket. What a thrill! And she had played a part in it. “The only feeling that can compare with this is when my sons were born. I guess this is a birth of sorts, too.”

Rosa put her fingers in her teeth and gave a deafening whistle. Ginny clapped and cheered along with all the other workers. Two-thirds of them were women.

“Look at us!” she crowed. “Before the war, no one ever would have believed that our so-called ‘weaker sex’ could do this kind of work. I certainly wouldn’t have believed it. I was afraid to make a simple decision without consulting Harold first.”

“And now you helped build that ship,” Rosa finished. “It floats and everything.”

“It might even help the Allies win the war. I’m so proud of myself I could burst.”

“Hey, isn’t that your husband over there on the platform?” Jean asked. “I think he’s looking for you.”

“He is? Where?” Ginny wasn’t nearly as tall as Jean, even standing on her tiptoes. She craned her neck as the ship moved farther away, then spotted Harold with the other dignitaries. He was looking her way, scanning the crowd. She smiled and raised her arm in the air to wave. He turned away.

“Maybe he didn’t see you,” Jean said when she noticed Ginny’s tears.

“No, I’m sure he did.”

“Don’t let him spoil your moment,” Rosa said. “If you had quit working last fall when he wanted you to, you never would have seen this ship being launched.”

“I know, I know. Yet I hate the distance that has grown between us. We’ve become
estranged
.”

Ginny had searched her dictionary and thesaurus to find a word she could use to talk things over with Harold. She had been practicing what she wanted to tell him, waiting for the right moment. “Harold, I don’t want to remain
estranged
,” she would say. The word was a fitting one. It meant,
“to turn away in feeling or affection; to keep oneself at a distance.”
It was exactly what Harold had been doing for months—what he was doing right now.

The women made their way into the lunchroom after the launching and sat down at the table to unwrap their sandwiches. Jean talked about the fierce fighting that was taking place in North Africa. “My sister Patty is worried sick about her husband,” she told them. “He’s right in the thick of things. I don’t know what she’ll do if something happens to him.”

“She’ll go on living,” Ginny said, “even though she won’t feel like it. There are other ways to lose your husband besides the war.” Everyone turned to stare at her.

“Is he walking out on you?” Rosa asked.

“Not yet. But I’m so afraid that he might. We still live together, but Harold and I have been
estranged
ever since he found out about my job. I wish I knew what to do to get back together with him—besides quitting. After today, I’m more determined than ever not to do that.”

“How did you win him over the first time you met?” Rosa asked. She opened a container that held a delicious-looking piece of peach cobbler.

“We met at a dance at my college sorority house. Harold’s fraternity was invited. I wore a brand-new red dress, and Harold said that I lit up the room. We danced together all evening—and neither of us ever dated anyone else again.”

“You’re still a very lovely woman,” Jean said, polishing an apple on her sleeve. “Maybe if he saw you all dolled up—”

“Yeah! How about if you bought a
new
red dress?” Rosa asked.

“Good luck,” Helen said. “I don’t know if any of you has been shopping lately, but there’s not much of a selection to choose from these days. Most of the dress factories have retooled to make uniforms. Besides, the best fashions used to come from Paris, and the Germans have put an end to that, stomping all over the city like the pigs that they are.”

Ginny and the others sat in silence for a moment, as if waiting for the air to clear after Helen’s bitter words. “Maybe I should get my hair done,” Ginny finally said. “I haven’t had time to get a permanent wave in months.”

Jean ran her fingers through her blond hair. “That might work,” she said. “Before my boyfriend came to visit me, Rosa helped me do my hair and pick out some new makeup. But you always look pretty, Ginny. Your husband would have to be blind not to notice.”

“I’ve got it!” Rosa said, snapping her fingers. “Nothing gets a man’s attention faster than when he sees
other
men giving you the eye.”

“You mean I should try to make him jealous?” Ginny asked. “I don’t think I could do that.”

“I think I know what Rosa means,” Jean said, “and you wouldn’t have to flirt or anything. When Russell met Mr. Seaborn, he suddenly got very possessive of me. And I hadn’t done a thing. It seems like whenever a man sees other men giving you the eye, then he notices you, too.”

“And don’t forget perfume,” Rosa added. “No man can resist you when you’re wearing his favorite perfume.”

Their excitement grew contagious. Maybe their ideas really would work. “I think I know the perfect time to try it,” Ginny said. “One of my friends from the Women’s Club invited Harold and me to a cocktail party this Saturday. I wasn’t going to go because I don’t have much in common with that crowd anymore—but maybe I should go and try out all of your ideas.”

“I’m sure Patty will watch your boys if you want her to,” Jean said. “I’m going to Indiana this weekend to see Russ, but Billy, Jr. and Kenny have been begging to have ‘the big boys’ over to play again.”

“You and your husband can have the whole house to yourself,” Rosa said with a mischievous grin.

Ginny couldn’t help smiling, too. “Harold always feels romantic after he’s had a cocktail or two. I just hope I can convince him to go to the party. Most of Harold’s friends from that crowd are away in the service. The only husbands who are left are older than he is.”

“Well, I wish you luck,” Helen said, rising to her feet. “But I expect you’ll have a difficult time reconciling, no matter how many new dresses you buy. Your husband was cut from the same stubborn mold as my father, and he always had to be the boss. He refused to give in until he had his way. I hope I’m wrong, but I just don’t see Harold Mitchell ending this estrangement until Ginny quits her job.”

“I hope you’re wrong, too,” Ginny murmured, but she saw the truth in what Helen had said.

Ginny went all out getting ready for the party. She didn’t have time to shop for a new dress—her appointment at the hairdresser had taken hours—but she applied her makeup carefully and chose a dress that Harold had admired on her in the past. She made sure she was ready on time, too, knowing how much he hated to be late. But his cold expression didn’t soften when she came downstairs looking her best. Harold barely glanced at her. Maybe he was blind, but surely his nose worked, and she had lavished on the perfume, following Rosa’s advice. His reaction—or lack of one—disappointed her. She retrieved her coat from the closet, but he didn’t help her with it.

Then, just as Harold opened the door to leave, he halted. “Let me ask you something, Virginia. Did everybody except me know that you were working at the shipyard?”

“I didn’t tell anyone, Harold, not even Betty Parker next door. But she knows now. She found out during Christmas vacation when the boys told Tommy that they were going to a baby-sitter’s. And if Betty Parker knows—”

“The whole world knows. That’s just great.”

They drove to the party in silence. Ginny began to wish that she had never accepted the invitation. Helen Kimball was probably right; this idea would never work with a man as stubborn as Harold. Now Ginny would have to spend the next several hours trying to hide their strained relationship from everyone else at the party.

“Ginny! It’s so
good
to see you,” Gloria, their hostess, gushed as she met them at the door. “It’s been so
long
since anyone has
seen
you. We
all
miss you at the women’s club. There’s a meeting next week, in fact. Will you be there?”

“I … um … I won’t be able to make it,” Ginny said. Gloria probably knew perfectly well that she was working at the shipyard.

They made their way inside, and once again, Harold made no move to help Ginny with her coat. “Should I put my coat in the bedroom, Gloria?” she finally asked.

“Yes, and then you two go hunt down my husband—he’s handing out the drinks. Poor Harold looks as though he could use something to cheer him up.”

Harold disappeared into the crowded living room with a sullen expression on his face while Ginny walked down the hall to deposit her coat. The bedroom window was open a crack for fresh air, and she fought the urge to climb out of it and run home. All of the self-confidence she had gained during the past six months seemed to be dissolving rapidly.

When she returned to the party, she stood in the living room doorway for a long moment, searching for Harold. The women outnumbered the men, but even among the few, he stood out: He was the only man his age who wasn’t wearing a uniform.

The party was in full swing, with the lights dimmed and the radio playing music in the background above the sound of laughter. Two serving girls in black uniforms and white aprons walked around with trays of appetizers. Gloria’s husband presided over a cartload of drinks. Harold had plunged right in, cocktail in hand, joining a group in the corner that was discussing the war. Ginny went to his side, tucking her hand in the crook of his arm, content to listen quietly as he talked about the North African campaign and tank warfare.

Everything seemed to be going well until the radio began to play the newest song craze, “Rosie the Riveter.” Betty Parker shushed everyone so they could listen to it. When it ended she announced, “The Stockton Women’s Club has our very own ‘Rosie,’ right, Virginia?”

Ginny smiled nervously as everyone turned to stare at her. “Well, I don’t actually rivet anything. I’m an electrician—”

“At Stockton Shipyard! Can you imagine?” Betty’s tone conveyed shock, not respect.

“No, I
really
can’t,” Gloria said. “That’s an
awful
place, with the
worst
sort of men working there.”

“It’s a wonder the men can do any work at all,” Gloria’s husband said, “with pretty girls like Virginia running around the place.”

Ginny smiled nervously as she glanced at Harold. He looked furious, not jealous.

“I could use a refill,” he said, holding up his empty glass. “Excuse me.” He slipped away from the group, but Gloria held Ginny’s arm, keeping her captive.

“I see that women who work at the shipyard still get their hair done,” she said. “And is that a new dress you’re wearing, Virginia?”

“No. And I got my hair done for the party,” she said, “not work. I have to wear a kerchief at the shipyard and baggy coveralls that—”

“Everyone knows why the younger girls take jobs like that—to meet men,” Betty said. “What are you there for?”

Ginny had to raise her voice to be heard above their laughter. “I’m there to build ships.” She looked around for Harold, wishing he would come to her defense. He knew the critical need for workers. She felt like a criminal locked in the stocks so everyone could throw rotten fruit at her. But Harold’s withdrawal hurt more than their taunts.

“We have to win this war,” she said. “None of us is safe from Hitler and the Japanese. I’m only doing my part.”

“I suppose you think we
aren’t
doing our part?” Betty asked.

“No, that’s not what I meant at all—”

“What would happen to America’s children if every woman abandoned her responsibilities at home and went gallivanting off to work?”

“But my sons are in school all day—”

Gloria laid her hand on Ginny’s arm. “
Surely
you don’t plan to
work
this summer when they’re home from school?”

Ginny didn’t bother to reply. It was none of Gloria’s business what she did this summer. Ginny wondered if the club women had always been this catty, and if so, why she hadn’t quit sooner. If she had known they would attack her and make her feel ashamed, she never would have come tonight. She tried to remember how proud she’d felt as the ship—her ship—had been launched. It seemed like ages ago. She looked around for Harold, but he had disappeared.

Eventually the others grew tired of ribbing Ginny, and the conversation changed to another topic. She was able to drift away and go in search of Harold. She found him in the den with Ruth Harper, one of the younger club women whose husband was away in the navy. They stood very close to each other, talking and laughing. Ruth was flirting with Harold, and Ginny was horrified to see that he was flirting right back.

Ginny fled to the bathroom. The evening was a total disaster. She closed the toilet lid and sat on the seat so she wouldn’t have to see herself in the mirror as she struggled to control her tears. She would have no way to repair her makeup if it all washed away, and she didn’t want to face further humiliation if everyone saw she’d been crying.

A long time later, with her tears under control, Ginny rejoined the party. She looked at her watch and saw that she would have to stay at least another hour before she could politely leave. She didn’t bother searching for Harold, knowing it would be better to avoid him since he seemed determined to hurt her feelings. She drifted from group to group, not saying much, watching the clock until it was time to go home. She could understand why Rosa tried to drown her sorrows with alcohol, but every time the host offered to refresh her drink, Ginny politely refused.