All Good Women (44 page)

She sat at a table by the window, overlooking the wide, green common. Reuben returned from the bar with his pint and her half pint. She sipped the beer, pretending to melt into the serene pasture before them.

‘So I will meet your brother?' he asked.

‘Maybe. He doesn't know about his discharge. I hope he comes in time.'

‘In time?' His voice was thicker.

It had just slipped out and perhaps this was the best way to begin. ‘There's Papa, Reuben. You know I have to go back at some point to visit Papa.'

‘Visit?' He gripped his glass. ‘Visit?'

She looked out at the grass again. How could she explain to him that she was indelibly American? After all, was he indelibly Austrian? What was a little homesickness in the face of history?

‘I got a letter from the University last week,' he offered.

‘The University?'

‘Edinburgh,' he said impatiently. ‘Where I was working. They asked if I could return in the autumn.'

‘Oh.' She bit her lip.

‘I haven't replied yet.'

She nodded.

‘Well, perhaps we should try more immediate topics. Where would you like to have dinner? And shall we take that walk around the colleges?'

Had the weekend vanished already?
She tried to stem the depressing thought. This was another late evening train, because they had made the most of Sunday — another turn in bed, a long walk in the country, a pub lunch, rowing down the Cam in the afternoon. Now it was 10 p.m. and they would be in London within an hour.

She was calmer on the way home. He was reading Thomas Mann again. Maybe she would take another class from Professor Warwick. That is, if he would admit her. That is, if he stayed in London.

‘So, love, do we need to think about plans?'

She blinked, walking out of the bright classroom into a dark alley.

‘Anna, darling, I'm trying to be patient. But I must know. I must tell the University.'

She bowed her head. ‘Let's walk out in the corridor.' Silently, they moved the length of the carriage. They stopped by a half-open window, warm wind blowing across their faces.

‘Come, Anna, we love each other. Come back to Edinburgh with me. We will make a family with Leah. Marry me, Anna, be my wife.'

‘Reuben, I don't know. I just don't know. About Papa.'

‘You must have a life of your own — it's not just Papa.'

‘I shouldn't use him as an excuse. I don't know what I want. I don't know where I belong. I don't belong in London. But Edinburgh? And what would be best for Leah? I don't know. What about you? Did you ever seriously think of coming to San Francisco?'

‘I have my studies.' His thick brows creased.

‘Are my ties less important? What about my responsibilities?'

‘You could bring Papa to Edinburgh.'

‘You're mad. And it's more than that. It's a question of where I can work most effectively.'

‘Are you saying you will marry me if we go to America?'

‘I, I, I don't know. If only I could talk to Daniel about this.' She turned her back to the window, straining to look past their reflection into the night. ‘If only I didn't feel so alone in this decision.'

‘Alone?'

‘Of course you're here.' She turned back to him. ‘That's the point.' She stopped, afraid he would burst into tears.

‘Darling,' he spoke more softly. ‘I love you.'

Anna cried
when she opened
the package from Teddy. She was crying at everything lately — when a man held the door for her at Selfridges, when Leah presented her with a self-portrait, when Mark shared the rich chocolate his sister had sent from New Jersey. Teddy's packages were always so careful, containing food that was rationed, wrapped in neat, secure parcels. Today Anna cried at the dried apricots, at the sight and smell of California. She wanted to luxuriate in the memories and to banish them at the same time. Hot summer days driving through Merced to Yosemite. Miles and miles of fecund farmland. Dry, warm, pungent California. Could she afford such feelings? She told herself this was all sentimentality, that it didn't matter so much where a person lived as what she did with her life. What did it mean to be an expatriate? Did people belong to places or places to people? Papa, after all, considered nationality a question of choice and will. Anna pulled out an apricot and sucked in the tart sweetness. Slowly, she put away Teddy's flour and sugar and the precious gift of stockings. Setting aside the little package with Leah's name on it, she was curious about its contents, but conscious that it must be left for the girl, herself, to open. She noticed that she thought of Leah as a girl now, not so much as a child. Anna took another succulent apricot and resolved to share these with Mark, at least a dozen, in return for the chocolate.

‘Mummy! Mummy!'

‘In here, sweetheart, where did you think I'd be?'

‘Oh, there you are. But you said in the garden. You said we would sit in the garden and read this afternoon.'

‘So I did,' Anna stumbled, thinking how often Mama had forgotten plans and promises. ‘Here — this is why I forgot. Aunt Teddy sent us a parcel. And she seems to have a special present for someone I know.' Leah seemed to like the idea of ‘aunts' in the States. Anna did too.

Leah's eyes lit on her name written across green wrapping paper. ‘For me. Just for me.' She pulled the package to her chest.

‘Well, love, aren't you going to open it?'

‘Did you get something special too?'

Anna regarded her closely. ‘Yes, I got stockings. Aunt Teddy knows I wanted stockings.'

‘OK. Yes, I'll open it.' Leah fastidiously untaped the parcel's seams, pulling out a white blouse with a lace collar. ‘Ohhh, pretty.' She held the blouse to herself. ‘What do you think, Mummy?'

‘I think it's lovely. Really suits you. In fact,' Anna stood up and kissed Leah's hand, ‘I think we should go shopping for a skirt to match.'

‘Now?' The girl's eyes grew wider.

‘What are Saturdays for? Not for moping around the house. Come on, it's a fine day. Let's find the ration book. And we'll go up the Holloway Road to see what we can see.'

A thin blue sky stretched over the spring afternoon. Anna could smell coal from the neighbors' houses as they walked to the corner. The pub was just opening its doors. Across the street walked a man with an umbrella and a bowler hat. She hadn't seen anything like that since the first weeks she lived there. Had they stopped wearing bowler hats during the war? What a peculiar form of rationing. Leah grabbed her hand as they walked along Seven Sisters Road. She chatted about her lessons and the end-of-term show. Anna half listened, her attention fixed to the exotic surroundings.

Holloway Road was chaotic with lorries and buses and cars and bicycles. She heard a horn behind her and another behind that. People shouted out of car windows. She imagined them in a Gershwin symphony. Three women almost knocked into each other running for a bus. How precisely people avoided disaster, as if moving through a formal choreography. Such energy. Had she been immune to life these past weeks? She glanced at Leah, walking with perfect ease amidst the fray. Anna told herself she was emerging from the numbness.

Then she was enveloped in a memory of walking with Mama to Woolworths in New York twenty years before. A memory of Mama's determination to buy her daughter nice pencils and pads for school, despite Mama's own panic about the language. A memory of her own childish shame over this woman so unlike proper mothers like Mrs Miller. Woolworths had been relatively quiet that day, but still Mama did not stop sweating until they were safely back on the sidewalk.

Anna looked around now. Here she was in the middle of a big, foreign city, holding the hand of a child, her daughter. She felt strong, whole. She needed to let go of Mama.

‘Mummy, do you like London?' Leah regarded her intently.

‘Why, why do you ask that?'

‘Mark was talking about going back to America. He said that it's hard to live here if you're not British. And you're American too. So I was wondering.'

She regarded Leah fully. ‘What would you like?'

‘I want to be with you.'

Anna nodded. ‘Well, love, for the moment that means being here. And for the future, I don't know. Is that OK with you, to wait a little?'

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Summer 1945, San Francisco

UNITED NATIONS CHARTER IS SIGNED

GENERAL MACARTHUR ANNOUNCES LIBERATION OF PHILIPPINES

BRITISH LABOR PARTY WINS; CHURCHILL LEAVES OFFICE

WHITE STUDENTS PROTEST SCHOOL INTEGRATION IN GARY, INDIANA

TEDDY WAS STARTLED
by
the cool
blue of Moira's dress as her friend walked up the aisle past the stained glass windows and wooden confessionals. Suddenly the elegant Church of SS Peter and Paul seemed drafty and vacant. Why had Moira switched from her beautiful, soft yellow dress at the last minute? This tailored linen outfit was, of course, much more mature. Did she feel badly because Moira had changed or just because she had not consulted her? She was shaking as Moira reached the altar. Dawn reached over for Teddy's hand.

‘It's OK,' she sniffed to Dawn.

Dawn held on a second longer. Teddy thought it was a good thing she had decided to sit by the far aisle like this. No point in making a spectacle. Moira did seem nervous, teetering on her heels. Teddy distracted herself by staring at the crucifix above the tabernacle above the white altar. She considered the image of Christ holding a book proclaiming
Ego Sum Via Veritas Et Vita
and thought about Moira and Ann swapping Latin over supper. She looked around the church at Mr Rose, Wanda and Mrs Nakatani, Mr and Mrs Finlayson, Randy's brother, Aunt Evie holding Tess, Vivian and Dot, the group of sailors. Some of the people Teddy didn't know. She turned to her own mother, seated stiffly on her left. What was going through Mom's mind? Did she wish her daughter were up there? Mom had been excited about Moira's wedding from the start. She said again this morning that she was surprised Teddy wasn't holding the reception at Stockton Street.

Teddy stared at her hands, at the long fingers Moira had so much enjoyed. No, she must erase those thoughts if she was to have any kind of relationship with Mrs Girard. Mrs Girard. Would she ever get used to it? Yes, she would have to. Maybe she had done the wrong thing in not offering the house. But she didn't think she could stand up all the way through the reception, knowing she was losing Tess as well as Moira. And after that, how would she get rid of the ghosts? As it turned out, the Finlaysons were happy to hire a hall. Moira explained her parents didn't like being indebted. But Teddy detected a touch of disappointment in her friend's voice. And she found a shard of revenge in her own subsequent silence. Maybe she should have swallowed her pride or resentment or terror. Dawn told her she was crazy even to consider offering the house. Dear, dear Dawn, what would she have done without her and Sandra these last three months?

Moira listened to the priest's
words
as if it were the first time she had heard them. This was it — she was getting married. It was suddenly completely clear. She hadn't reached the vows yet. She could still leave. Yes, she weighed her options. She could still leave this place a free woman. She thought of the nurse to whom she had lied and said her name was ‘Girard'. In fifteen minutes, this wouldn't be a lie any more. She ached to be alone, not with Randy or Teddy or even Tess. She contemplated walking into the warm summer afternoon, all the way to the Bay. She didn't have the courage or imagination to escape, yet she would always remember this point in the wedding.

‘We have gathered together …'

Moira thought about her parents, together for almost twenty-five years. Would she and Randy stay together? She blushed, as if the others could hear her thoughts. She loved Randy. He loved her and their daughter. Concentrate. Concentrate Moira.

‘Do you take this woman …'

Why did they give the woman first? She was married and he wasn't. He could just walk out.

‘Do you take this man …'

He looked ten years younger and more afraid today. Moira's heart went out to him. Dear Randy was so determined to do the right thing — to have her parents like him, to bring her to a new apartment, to make enough money so she didn't have to work. She was very lucky. Some women had waited the whole war only to find their men dead or gone. He was growing more thoughtful each day. They would make a happy marriage. Yes, she must concentrate on their life ahead.

Wanda watched Teddy carefully.
Her
f
ace was so tight it might crack. Poor Teddy, witnessing her love being given away. Giving herself away. It was the worst kind of torture. Almost like seeing someone die. Wanda examined her own neatly trimmed nails. This was her all over — composed, polished. She would never get herself in a position like Teddy. She wondered if Teddy were really braver than she. Why, she couldn't bring herself even to discuss the subject with Teddy. Moira didn't look so hot herself. She seemed to hold Randy's arm for support. Was the dress too tight or was that her imagination? Moira did want to marry Randy. It was all she could talk about for the last two months. Oh, she said she was nervous, worried about whether she could cook proper meals and so forth, but she never admitted the degree of sheer terror that Wanda saw on her face now. Wanda sensed Mama's stiff, small body beside her. Perhaps she was thinking about her own marriage in Yokohama thirty-five years before. Perhaps she was missing Papa. Wanda brushed a wrinkle from her pink flowered skirt. The suit was bolder than she was used to. She had worn the outfit for Moira — and the straw hat with the pink roses. What would Moira wear to her wedding? Years ago she had dreamt of bridesmaids — Anna, Moira, Teddy and Betty — carrying bouquets of daffodils, for it would be a spring wedding, early spring, outside with music and fancy food. Now she knew they could only afford something modest like this. OK. What mattered was that Roy return safely.

Moira stood in the reception
line,
praying that people would move faster. There would be plenty of time for chatting later. How could Mrs Girard think of so much to say to each person? She felt silly shaking hands with Vivian and Dorothy. The bride role was easier to play with strangers, like Randy's sailor friends. As her brother-in-law, gawky Boyd, hugged her, Moira thought how she had always wanted siblings but now that she had inherited Randy's brother she wasn't so sure. She looked over Boyd's shoulder to check on the sandwiches, the cake, the champagne and the people clustering in predictable groups. Dot and Vivian were talking with the girls from the yard. Teddy and Wanda and Dawn were laughing in the corner. Aunt Evie and Uncle Benny and Aunt Flora were playing with Tess. They had all come to such different weddings. Dot and Vivian saw it as a farewell party. Her relatives regarded it as a passage. For Mr Rose and Mrs Nakatani and Mrs Fielding, it was another meeting of the extended clan. Mother looked softer than she had in years, luxuriating in public approbation of her daughter. Christ Almighty, this was her wedding, what did she feel? Maybe that would be easier to determine after some champagne.

Teddy left a circle of
friends
to check on her mother. Mrs Fielding was listening closely as Mr Rose told Mrs Nakatani and herself about Mrs Rose's death. When he saw Teddy, he drew her over.

‘Such a fine daughter you have, Mrs Fielding. She visited me and my poor wife so very often during the past few years. We couldn't have asked more from our own Annie.'

Teddy smiled and stepped back slightly. ‘Sir, have you heard anything from Anna?'

‘Not in the last few weeks. Her letters, I don't know why, they've never been as regular as Daniel's. But the child is fine, so I understand.'

Mrs Nakatani looked puzzled.

‘Her adopted daughter,' Mr Rose explained. ‘One of the orphans from Hitler. Didn't you hear?'

‘Oh, yes,' Mrs Nakatani recalled. ‘She can bring the child here?'

‘I think so.' Mr Rose tried to sound unconcerned. ‘Her mother is an American citizen.'

Mrs Nakatani nodded.

‘Ah, yes,' he caught on. ‘Who knows, maybe we learned something from the injustices to the Japanese Americans. It never occurred to me that Ann couldn't come back with the child. Oh, dear.'

Teddy intervened. ‘She said something about that in the last letter to us.' She paused, thinking that it would be the last letter to ‘us' altogether. From here on, Anna would write to them all separately. ‘She talked to somebody at the Embassy and it's OK.'

Mr Rose reached up and patted Teddy's shoulder. ‘You are a helpful one to have around,' he smiled. ‘Always with the useful answer. Always organizing things. Why, if it hadn't been for you, that house never would have got under way. I bet Moira won't know what to do without you.'

Teddy stared at her feet and shrugged, afraid that if she looked up she might cry.

Mrs Fielding spoke. ‘Always that way at home, too.' Then, reaching for her daughter's arm, ‘Did I tell you we got a letter from Virg yesterday?'

Teddy regarded her mother with gratitude, hugging her for the good news and for seeming to understand about Moira. No, she had never forgotten Teddy's crush on the math teacher. Maybe she could talk with Mom when this was all over. Why hadn't she thought about that?

‘And our Daniel will be home soon,' said Mr Rose. ‘We must have a party.'

Teddy watched Mrs Nakatani closely, but she seemed fine.

Observing Mr Rose's gregariousness Teddy considered how far he had come in liking the Stockton Street crew. She could hardly believe that he was suggesting to her mother that they hold a party together. But he had become much looser since Mrs Rose's death. Sad as it was, he was free to live his life — with the considerable energy he always had.

‘Yes,' Mrs Fielding brightened, ‘yes, that would be a nice idea.' Then, turning to include Mrs Nakatani, she said, ‘Wanda tells me you're both working in the cannery. That sounds like rough work. I know how tired I get waiting on tables after eight hours. How can you stand in one place all day?'

Teddy watched Mrs Nakatani peering closely for the motive behind this question. Deciding it was safe, she answered. ‘Yes, tiring. But like any job.'

‘And it must be nice living near your brother again?'

Teddy thought how much easier Mom was in the world, now that she had an outside job. The shyness had almost disappeared. Clearly she wasn't needed here as much as she thought, so with a tap on her mother's elbow, Teddy withdrew from the conversation and walked back to Vivian, Dorothy, Dawn and Wanda.

‘Teddy!' Vivian smiled broadly.

What was she thinking? wondered Teddy. Was she relieved to see Moira married? Teddy guessed that Vivian liked her alright, but that affection was mixed with a touch of sympathy.

‘Hi,' she answered shyly, knowing all four women would be gauging her reactions.

Wanda thought Teddy looked fairly calm. Her hand was steady and the champagne glass was almost full. No, Teddy had never been one to drink too much, even in times of stress. Wanda's eyes went over to the circle with her mother, Mrs Fielding and Mr Rose. She was grateful to Teddy for checking on them. It was probably her own turn now. But she was enjoying these girls. She especially liked Dawn's sense of humor. How did she and Teddy become friends? Was Dawn a lesbian too? Maybe. She had a toughness and a self-containment­ and there was something in the way she stood.

‘We were just talking about you,' Dorothy said to Teddy. ‘Wondering whatever happened to that pariah you work for, what's his name?'

‘Whitney,' said Dawn, patting Teddy on the shoulder. ‘Is he still after you or what? You haven't mentioned it lately.'

‘Oh,' Teddy laughed with relief. ‘I think he's finally given up. I told him about “my boyfriend in the Air Force”. That cooled him for a couple of weeks. Then when he started to pressure me, I mentioned that my aunt was sick and that I had to spend a lot of time with her and …' She tried to sound lighthearted.

‘Come on, now.' Dawn shook her head. ‘Don't shrug it off. Tell them how he backed you into the filing cabinet.'

Wanda's expression turned grave.

‘Or the time he said he'd fire you if you didn't “show a little company spirit”.'

‘Yes,' Teddy nodded, because Dawn was never one to let a trial pass unnoticed. ‘It was hard there for a while. But he loosened up when another girl, Mary Anne, moved into the next office.'

The women shook their heads.

Teddy continued, ‘I invited her to lunch next week.'

Moira listened to Mother's advice
about when to cut the cake and when to throw the bouquet. At least she thought she had been listening, until Mother said, ‘Moira, why do you keep staring at those friends of yours? Heaven knows you've been living with Teddy long enough and working with Vivian and Dorothy for years. You could spare a moment for your mother on your wedding day.'

Moira nodded sheepishly. How did she expect to be an adult, married woman when she couldn't get along with her own mother?

‘And who is that other girl, the colored one?'

‘Dawn; she's a friend of Teddy's.'

‘I thought so.' Mrs Finlayson inhaled sharply.

‘What do you mean?' Moira resolved to settle this peacefully.

‘Well, I don't know where you would meet someone like that.'

‘What do you mean, “someone like that”?' Moira lowered her voice. ‘Lots of Negroes work in the shipyard. Besides, Teddy met Dawn at the Emporium. Negroes have been in America for a long time, Mother, longer than our family.'

‘OK, I can see you want to visit with your friends. You don't have to keep your old mother company.'

Moira now noticed how tired Mother looked. The wedding is harder on her than on me, Moira reminded herself. Mother had worked for months organizing the buffet and the champagne and the flowers. She must be patient with her, and grateful. One did need a wedding to have a marriage.

‘Mother, I've appreciated your help. Don't spoil …'