All Good Women (21 page)

Moira frowned at Teddy.
‘So
that's why you've been reading the newspaper so thoroughly. You're really something.'

Teddy concentrated on sponging off the sink.

Moira continued.

I try not to worry about them. At least they have each other. The regiment has lost lots of men, you know. I still think they were crazy to enlist. Who are they fighting for when their own people are locked up? Probably part of my resentment is that I wish I also had been able to leave Arizona. I mean, it still hurts when I think about losing the scholarship. Plenty of girls wind up taking care of their families. Why am I so selfish?

Speaking of families, how are yours? Your brothers and sisters, Teddy? Hope your Mom and Pop are fine too. Do tell me about work. And the acting, Moira, do you have any parts? I got a letter from Ann the other day. I'm sure you know, she's moving along with her usual determination. The kids seem to love her. Odd how she keeps repeating that she doesn't plan to be a mother. I think she'd be terrific. So much more patient than I'd be.

Do write when you can. And thanks for the pioneer parcels. I don't know what Betty would do without that gum. It's one of her biggest trumps in the popularity game here. Mama really appreciated the soap. And the fudge was divine. But remember to use your sugar rations for yourselves. I promise to be in a better mood when I next write. Meanwhile, lots of love, Wanda.

Teddy set the casserole
in
the center of the yellow table. She watched the hot bubbles spitting along the edge. Pouring them each a glass of water, she noticed that Moira was re-reading Wanda's letter to herself.

‘Hi there,' Moira said finally. ‘Sorry I'm fading tonight. But I had some good news. Vivian and Dorothy said they are looking forward to dinner.'

Teddy's face went blank.

‘This Friday,' continued Moira. ‘Don't you remember, our campaign to brighten up Stockton Street?'

Teddy dug into the spaghetti. Why couldn't Moira have waited until after supper? No, she was being ridiculous.

‘You're losing nerve.'

‘Oh, just a little shy.'

‘You'll love Dorothy. And you've already met Vivian. They both have a great sense of humor. We decided on pot-luck. Viv's bringing salad. Dorothy's bringing wine. And I said 7.30. Is that OK with you?'

‘Pot-luck?' Teddy asked, betraying her uneasiness. She could hardly believe she had agreed to the evening. Would they all talk and laugh above her head? Both Vivian and Dorothy came from New York and she understood from Ann that those people could be pretty snooty.

‘Yes.' Moira twirled spaghetti on to her fork. ‘Great supper. Let's fix this for them.'

‘Baked spaghetti?' Teddy winced.

‘We're not inviting the King and Queen of Persia.'

‘Well, I don't know what's wrong with making them a real supper — I mean with pork chops and potatoes and vegetables. I can be clever with the ration coupons. Why make them bring something; this isn't a church charity bazaar.'

‘No, it just makes it easier on us. Moneywise. Timewise. It's a modern custom. Everybody does it.'

‘Everybody.' Teddy curbed the hurt in her voice. Why was she so scared about a little supper? She was afraid of losing Moira, that was it. When Moira saw them all together, she would choose her sophisticated, married friends over her. In the last few months, with the others gone, Teddy had felt a special pressure about the house. Sometimes she was a little girl again. Once or twice she had cried when Moira left in the morning. Just a bit. Silly, but she missed her already. The slightest crease in their life petrified her. Of course Moira would get married some day. Teddy had no illusions about competing with a man, but that wouldn't happen until the end of the war. And as much as she hated the war, as much as she mourned the loss of Ann and Wanda, she cherished her refuge with Moira. What would happen now with vivacious Vivian and mysterious Dorothy? Would Moira suggest they move into the house? Teddy noticed Moira waiting for an answer.

‘Well.' Teddy blinked. ‘I don't care what everyone does. I would have been happier to offer a decent meal.'

‘Decent, indecent, Teddy sometimes you kill me. Actually, you remind me of my proper Mother. Listen, they're just friends. They'll love your cooking. And I know they'll love you. Vivian already does. She thinks you're cute.'

Teddy stared at her.

‘Don't look shocked.' Moira wondered at Teddy's lack of confidence. Maybe she didn't tell her often enough how much she appreciated her.

Teddy twirled and untwirled the spaghetti. ‘OK, OK, I'm sure it will be a fine dinner, uh, I mean pot-luck.'

Moira sipped her water thoughtfully. ‘Dorothy's husband is in the navy too. She has the same kind of worries. We had a great talk over lunch today.'

‘Good,' Teddy nodded, taken aback by her own jealousy.

‘Have you heard anything from Virgil?' Moira tried to rouse her friend. ‘Didn't you say he was going to enlist this week?'

‘Yes.' Teddy nodded. She could barely hold back the tears. ‘He got his papers today. Should be leaving on the weekend.' Finally she put down her fork and fell to weeping.

Moira stood behind her, hugging Teddy's thin, stiff shoulders. As they quivered and heaved, Moira realized that Teddy had been upset all night. She breathed in Teddy's dark sweat through the lavender talcum powder. Of course, this had been a strain on her too. Of course she was worried about her brothers and Ann and Wanda and Angela. They hadn't talked about Angela in ages. Maybe something had gone wrong there, too. Teddy was sobbing now.

Moira held her a moment longer, then, keeping one hand on Teddy's shoulder, sat next to her friend and tried to make eye contact. She stared at the strings of blond hair dangling in Teddy's face. Never had she seen her this unwound. In some senses it was a relief. Moira's eyes wandered to the spaghetti hardening in the tomato sauce. Poor Teddy. Dear Teddy. Gradually, long breaths replaced the sobs.

Teddy looked up at Moira. Suddenly she felt as if she were seven years old again, having her tonsils out. Throughout the operation, she was held together by fear. She tried to hear the nurse's soothing words as she fitted the foul smelling ether mask. But she couldn't so she simply continued to count backwards. She thought about her mother, who had been refused entry to the operating room.

‘Oh, my.' Teddy withheld an apologetic laugh. She remembered how much she liked taking care of Moira and assumed the instinct was mutual. ‘It's just that Virgil is Mom's favorite and I don't know what she'll do with him away. He's been pretty good now at keeping Pop in check. You know he could kid round with anyone. Truth is,
I'll
miss the boy. Even though he's nine years younger, he's really my favorite. Got a sweet temperament, you know.'

‘Do I know,' laughed Moira. ‘If he were a few years older, I'd drop Randy for him. Remember when he delivered the jams from your mother? He found me fiddling with the leaky pipe and scooted me away as if I were the Duchess of Windsor. He lay on the floor, fixing the pipe and telling me one joke after another in between commenting on my green-green eyes and admiring my red-red hair. He practically had me running off to Mexico with him. Quite a charmer, your brother. That must be the Celtic side of the Fieldings.'

‘We've always thought it had more to do with the Cherokee, even if we are only one-sixteenth Indian.' Teddy grinned. ‘You know there's a fey spirit in Indians too.' Her face grew longer. ‘It's selfish, I just don't want him, of all people, to be taken. Taken, I don't mean taken. I'm sure he'll be OK. I mean I pray to God he'll be safe. But you know when they drafted Arthur and Hank, it seemed more fitting. Virgil hated being the baby …' Teddy trailed off. She picked up her fork and fiddled with the cold spaghetti. ‘It's not my life. It's his right. Who knows what's right in all this mess. I'm just being selfish.'

‘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 mor
e
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.