All Good Women (50 page)

Anna put on the kettle, thinking about Teddy's criticism of Randy. Neither Teddy nor Moira had ever explained, but she was sure the women had been lovers. There was an urgency in the way they talked about each other. She hadn't seen them together since she had been back. She could imagine their attraction and the intensity of such a relationship. She could also imagine its crash. Not that she knew much about that sort of thing, but she thought Moira was indelibly heterosexual. The door banged. Daniel back from his friends. She supposed she could go to Teddy and leave Leah with the men. No, she was too tired; she would call as soon as she brought in the tea. She fished around in the cabinet for an extra cup and walked into the living room.

‘Anna, just what I need.' Daniel smiled and took the tray from her.

Her brother was a handsome man, with his dark brown hair, thick brows, pensive eyes and wide, brilliant smile. Yes, he would probably be married and out of the house too soon. She should enjoy all of them together while she could. She watched him fondly as he collapsed on the couch.

Daniel swallowed the tea in one gulp. ‘Really, Anna.' He spoke loud enough for Papa to hear, ‘You must enroll in one of those courses.'

‘You're a broken record.' She tried to shush him. ‘Picking up where you left off.'

‘It's easy,' he continued, ‘everyone is going to school.'

‘I told you Daniel, I'm not so keen on classics any more.' She sat down with a thump and reached for the tea. ‘I like my job.'

‘Jewish social work!' he exclaimed. ‘You don't want to stay in a ghetto for the rest of your life.'

‘It's not a ghetto if you choose it. I like working with my people.'

‘Your people, your people? Why are they your people any more than other Americans?'

‘Now you sound like Papa!' She lowered her voice, grateful Leah and her rabbit hutch were in the dining room, so Papa was out of earshot.

‘No, it's completely different.' Daniel poured himself another cup. ‘I'm not transforming you into Loretta Young. I'm just saying you have lots of opportunities. Why are you sticking to such a, a, I don't know, such a womanly occupation? Taking care of people. Your whole life this is just what you said you weren't going to do. You were in love with Latin and Greek. Professor Rothman said you were a star. And here you are, stuck in a little agency, helping people set up house.'

‘“Setting up house” is a big task for someone who has travelled 6,000 miles, doesn't speak English and doesn't know North Beach from Portrero Hill. We're not talking about dolls here, Daniel; we're talking about people's lives.'

‘OK, OK, so it's useful work. But you've been doing that kind of thing for the last two years. You risked your life in London. Aren't you at peace yet?'

‘Listen, Daniel, I'm not sure where you're going with this, but I don't like your tone. I'm working because it's necessary and because I like it.'

‘Bull.' He lowered his voice too. ‘What do you like about the late nights and the constant worry?'

‘I like stories of people's lives. I like to see them pulling through. I feel satisfied being of use. Really, Daniel, I know you mean well, but I'm happy with my job.'

‘You'll not go and run off and leave us for that young man in Edinburgh, after all?'

She looked at her watch. 9.15. Another half-hour without thinking of Reuben. 9.15. She had better call Teddy. She would be so disappointed. ‘I don't know, Daniel. I can't see going back to Europe. I do miss him. I try not to think about it. When we left he promised to come to get us. One part of me didn't believe it and another part counted on that happening, sooner than he said. In a certain way, I've begun to appreciate Papa's ideas about this country. Yes, he's a little wild-eyed, but he may be right about the chance to start over again here. I dream of Reuben getting a job in an American university. That's the only way I can picture us together. Does that sound selfish?'

‘Selfish isn't a word I'd associate with you, Anna. Idealistic, perhaps, but not selfish.'

She sipped her tea and felt even more tired.

Teddy walked from the dining
room
carrying fruitcake for her friends. ‘That was Wanda on the phone. They can't make it tonight. Her mother isn't up to it.'

‘Oh, too bad,' said Sandra, playing with the red lace on her collar. ‘I wanted to meet her. I had a friend in one of those camps and I think she might have known her. Lion's Head, right, in Arizona?'

‘Yeah,' Teddy said blankly, trying to shake off the disappointment. It was after 9.00 and no one but Sandra and Dawn had arrived. Well, it was a last minute invitation and they had all been iffy about coming. She should have listened more closely to their voices. Anna had sounded worried about Leah when she called.

‘Still some chance Moira will show up,' she said cheerfully. The idea of Randy trying to socialize with Dawn and Sandra gave her a perverse pleasure.

‘Don't worry, honey.' Dawn looked at her steadily. ‘You don't got to provide us with no entertainment. We came here to celebrate with you.'

Teddy blushed. ‘Speaking of which, have some of Mom's fruitcake. She put lots of brandy in it. An old family recipe from the days when we made our own “brandy”.'

‘Your family too?' laughed Dawn.

‘Well, I know you're all trying to be polite,' said Sandra, ‘but I think it's a shame they left you stranded. I'd like to know why they didn't come. Are they afraid to be back together?'

‘Afraid?' repeated Teddy.

‘Afraid that they'll see how much they've changed or something.'

‘But they haven't.' Teddy shifted in her seat. ‘I've seen all of them. They're all still … ”

‘No, maybe Sandra has a point,' said Dawn, pulling a green thread from her jacket. ‘Maybe they don't want to face all they've lost.'

‘It's just circumstances — people being busy during the holidays,' Teddy sighed. She poured more eggnog. The silence became uncomfortable. Finally, she said, ‘Tell me you've changed your minds. I can't accept the two of you leaving town. What will the Quiet Cat do without you?'

‘Not much choice,' Sandra shrugged. ‘You know I can't find a new job. Hard enough to get work if you're a white woman, but for a colored woman with my kinda skills …'

‘I still think you should let us try to find you something at the Emporium.'

‘You're crazy,' laughed Dawn. ‘We'd be arrested for cuddling in the corridor the first morning. Besides I'm tired of this place and its fuzzy liberals. No, we're moving on. To Seattle.'

‘Seattle?' asked Teddy.

‘I've got an aunt,' Sandra explained, ‘runs a little café near the bus station. She's getting on in years and could use help. I figure Dawn would be great at the books and I could handle some of the practical things. It'll be fun, having a small place like that to run, you know what I mean.'

‘Sure, sure,' said Teddy, on the verge of tears.

‘And of course if you're ever in the neighborhood,' said Dawn, ‘I'm sure we could find a position for you.'

‘As typist!' Teddy tried to laugh away the heaviness in her chest. ‘When do you go?'

‘Oh, we've a lot of partying to do before then, honey,' grinned Sandra. ‘Not until spring, not until the rains stop.'

‘Enough mournful talk.' Dawn raised her cup. ‘How about a little dancing? As the owner of this establishment, Miss Fielding, you don't have to worry about being evicted for lascivious behavior. May I have the first dance?'

‘To “Jingle Bells”?' Teddy winced.

‘A good dancer can rescue any music.' She pulled Teddy to her feet.

What would Moira think if she walked up the front step with her baby in one arm and her husband on the other? Teddy smiled.

Moira cleared the table,
distressed
by the sight of the half-eaten meatloaf on Randy's plate. He said he liked it, but she could tell he was just being polite. Last night it was the same with the baked spaghetti. Too much salt then. Not enough tomato sauce tonight. She had never been a great cook, but lately she had been horrible, forgetful and clumsy. Earlier she had dropped a whole bottle of pickles and now she cringed thinking about those delicious dills floundering around the shattered glass on the kitchen floor. Randy had been terribly understanding, said it must be hard to set up house on your own and take care of a couple of people suddenly, but to tell the truth she wasn't bothered so much by the extra responsibility as by the boredom. What does a person do inside an apartment eight hours a day? Tess was getting on her nerves in ways she never did before. Moira knew she should be grateful, as Mother pointed out, that she had a man who loved her and was eager to support her. Yes, she would just have to get used to the luxury. This was the easiest part she would ever play, wasn't it?

She watched Randy in the living room finishing the log cabin for Tess's Christmas present. Do girls like log cabins? she had asked. Of course, he said, it would make a perfect dolls' house. Right, well, she was lucky he was such a devoted father. Tess loved roughhousing with him. Moira reminded herself that Christmas Eve was a night to count your blessings.

She glanced at the clock. 9.30. Christ, she should call Teddy and explain they weren't coming. She had known this all afternoon, since she counted up the number of presents to be wrapped and the cookies to be made for Randy's family party after midnight mass. She was also behind on preparations for tomorrow's supper with Aunt Evie and her parents. She plopped down in a chair and scraped the dishes. Tess's plate was a mash of potatoes and carrots and tiny pieces of meatloaf. Had she eaten any of it or just cleverly redistributed it? Oh, she leaned back and stared at the ceiling, imagining Anna blowing one of her marvellous smoke rings.

Anna, it was good to have her back in town. What a comfort to have someone besides Mother to discuss Tess with. Moira didn't feel like a failure around Anna. They had lots of good laughs — more than she could ever remember from Stockton Street. Anna had softened some; maybe part of that was having a kid, but Moira suspected it also had to do with her mother dying and her experiences in London. How could she have left Reuben in Europe? At first Moira imagined Anna didn't love him enough, that theirs had been one of those passing war romances, but now she thought Anna was quite in love. She had been drawn back here by her principles, by responsibility and a sense of identity. It was so unfair. If anyone deserved to be happy, it was Anna, after all the pain. Boy, that was a Catholic judgment, thought Moira. Of course we all deserve to be happy.

She walked to the sink and turned on the water. Well, Wanda looked like she was on the road to being happy. Everyone's life had turned out differently than expected. Things were settled with Roy, although she seemed disappointed he had switched from photography. Actually, Moira reminded her, it would be easier to raise a family on an optometrist's salary. Wanda remained uneasy. ‘Don't be in such a rush to have kids,' she had told Wanda. ‘You can still do it after four years in school.' Moira worried that she had said the wrong thing. Often she felt like a dope around Wanda, who was by far the most sensitive of the four women. It had taken her longer to revive the friendship with Wanda than with Anna. But things were improving. They had had a good visit on Wanda's last day off.

So strange to wait to see someone on her day off. Moira felt as if she had no day off — although most people wouldn't see what she was doing as working. She saw more friends when she had a regular job. Certainly she saw more of Vivian then. Lord, with Vivian's new job out in Castro Valley, they were lucky to get together once a month. The poor kid was barely making it on her typing salary. Moira finished washing the plates and stepped back slowly. She had been very tired lately.

She shuffled to the phone, worrying how to explain her absence to Teddy. For so many years she and Teddy had been family to each other. Her stomach fluttered as she raised the receiver. No, she put it down again. She should think this out carefully. She had got in big trouble these last five months calling Teddy on impulse. She always thought she knew what she was going to say, but it would come out wrong. Crazy the way they had expected to carry on seeing each other as friends. After she returned from the honeymoon, they would meet for coffee every couple of days and dissolve in tears. Moira was sure she had made the right decision. Absolutely sure, but when she saw Teddy old feelings bubbled up. Teddy never accused, never complained; that was the tough part. Moira would fight back, but she couldn't cope with the regret and the remorse. Was it her fault that she loved two people? That she had chosen one of them? That her child needed a father? Did that mean she had to lose Teddy? Plenty of people saw their old flames. OK, it was different because Teddy was a woman. Moira knew she had left her in the lurch, moving to a more acceptable life. But she had a duty to Tess. She tried to tell Teddy how she still loved her. Teddy would sit there listening, never saying a word. Then they would both break down weeping. Crying seemed the only way to communicate. Yes, it had been wise to take a rest from each other. And tonight would have been their first time together in two months. Moira closed her eyes, how could she explain to Teddy? She stared down at her belly, wondering what her friend would say about this new baby.

Teddy walked stiffly
back from
the telephone. ‘Moira can't come either.' She looked at Dawn and Sandra quizzically. ‘Too many plans for the family dinner. She might drop by tomorrow after her folks go back to Aunt Evie's.' Teddy realized she was going on a bit, but she felt safer talking. ‘They all said that — maybe tomorrow. I guess this party wasn't a bright idea. People are busy during the holidays. I was stupid to suggest it.'