All Good Women (53 page)

Chapter Thirty-Five

Spring 1949, San Francisco

ALGER HISS ON TRIAL IN NEW YORK

SOVIETS END BLOCKADE OF BERLIN

UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, BERKELEY FACULTY TOLD TO SIGN LOYALTY OATHS

US POST-WAR OCCUPATION TROOPS
LEAVING KOREA

ANNA WAS READING
by
the window,
enjoying the warmth of the sun on her neck. Closing her eyes, she listened to the light strokes of Leah's pencil across the sketch book. Saturdays. She must be getting old because she ached for the weekends now. She still loved her job, she reminded herself. Refugee work was important; there was so much to do. But she did get tired by Friday night. And why not, Dr Trubo had said; she worked a full week and took care of a lively child and an irrepressible father. Papa would die if he knew she was seeing a psychiatrist, so she went during her lunch hour. In fact he wouldn't be too pleased to see her leafing through Karen Horney's
Our Inner Conflict
.
But she wasn't going to censor her reading for his peace-of-mind. Conflict. Dr Trubo said Anna was always creating conflict before it happened. She glanced out the window at the fog and clouds moving in from the Bay.

Leah looked so comfortable there on the rug drawing, what was it, oh, a coastal scene from last month's trip to Marin. They should take more outings like that. Leah was growing by yards, but then she was almost eleven. Anna was astonished last month when the child, the girl, her daughter, came to tell her about her first bleeding. It was all happening too quickly. She, herself, was thirty-one. Thirty-one. No, she wouldn't think about that, either. She was relieved to see that the clouds had passed and the sun was streaming down again.

‘All right daughter, I'm off.' Papa bustled into the living room with his coat and a paper lunch sack.

‘Not on Saturday, Papa, you promised. You'll wear yourself out.'

‘Enough. I'm lucky I can work. Besides, we're still trying to recover from that shutdown last month. I'll be back by six. And your friends are coming to dinner at seven?'

‘Yes, Papa.' Anna sighed in resignation.

Leah stood and kissed her grandfather's cheek. ‘Bye, Grandpa.'

The door shut and Anna was overcome with suffocation. Of course this was what it had always been like in her childhood: Mama saying, ‘Don't go, David.' And Papa saying, not to worry, he would be fine. Obviously Papa would be fine. He was born to explore the Northwest Passage or the South Pole. But Mama would not be fine. Anna realized that it had been this time in her own life — when she was about Leah's age — that the family moved West, that Mama closed the doors permanently. She walked to the front window. No, she was not her mother. They had got to the crucial time of Leah's womanhood, and she was not going to turn into Mama. Leah didn't even call her Mama. At first it had been Mummy and now it was Mom. Such an American, her daughter.

Leah had returned to the pad, shading the trees with green pencil. Anna was struck with nostalgia about the drawing Leah had given her in London when she had come back after the flu — the portrait of the two of them together. She thought, quickly, of that other artist in her life. But Carol's pictures were so much more dramatic and disturbed than this. No, she reassured herself, she wasn't Mama and Leah wasn't Carol.

The phone broke Anna's reverie. Leah raced for it and then ran back. ‘It's for you, Mom. Aunt Wanda.'

Anna shook herself and walked into the hall. ‘Wanda, hello, how are you?'

‘I'm fine, Anna, thanks. But Mama has come down with something. So, I'm sorry, but we can't make it to dinner tonight. I think Roy and I should drive in and spend the evening with her.'

‘Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, Wanda. Do you think it's serious?'

‘Hard to say. She's been slowing down lately, but we all thought it was age.' Wanda hoped Anna would accept this. She didn't want to think any more until she saw Mama for herself.

‘Give her my good wishes. How are you and Roy?'

‘Roy's fine.' Wanda's voice eased. ‘The practice is going well. He's working too hard, but we expected that the first few years.'

‘And Wanda?'

‘Fine.' She held back. ‘Just fine.'

‘And why
so
fine, Mrs Watanabe? You're hiding something.'

‘You know that article Professor Washington sent off to his friend at the
Saturday Evening Post
?'

‘You're getting it published!'

‘Looks that way.' Wanda was grateful, after all, to tell Anna, so she might experience the excitement her own modesty inhibited.

‘Congratulations. You know I really admire your determination. You're something — pushing ahead despite everything — getting your degree early because of those night classes. I look up to you, you know.'

‘Thank you.' Wanda had had enough. If she could only switch off Anna's enthusiasm when it became unbearable. She knew if she didn't change the topic, she would start tripping over her own embarrassment. ‘How are Daniel and Rachel?'

‘Fine, fine. In fact, I was going to tell you tonight, but I'll tell you now. I'm going to be an aunt!'

‘That's wonderful.'

There was a listlessness in Wanda's voice that Anna couldn't place. Perhaps because she hadn't been concentrating. ‘You must be worried about your mother. May I call tomorrow and find out how she's doing?'

‘That's kind of you, Anna, but you don't have to …'

‘I know I don't have to.'

‘Yes, well, thanks, and maybe we can have a real talk then. I'll be more in the mood.'

Moods were curious,
Anna thought,
returning to the living room, which was once again drenched in shadow. Moods could transport you to a completely different world. Most of the week she had spent recalling London, perhaps because it was this month, six years ago when she arrived in that sooty, cramped office, lit up with Esther's ebullience and Reuben's implacable curiosity.

Sometimes she remembered London so strongly that she could taste the beer and smell the coal fires. She could touch the gleaming fruit in Covent Garden. One memory would trip another and she couldn't remember why she left London. Oh, how she missed the sophistication of the place — the slightly seedy atmosphere of experience that permeated the numerous cracks of a difficult but fascinating daily life. She missed Esther and Mark and Mrs Mac. And Reuben. She was almost able to place his name with the others now. Almost able to relegate him to memory. Oh, he was still promising to meet her in some National Park or other — so European to perceive the United States as a vast wilderness adventure — but she knew he could never permanently settle here. And how could she leave San Francisco again? In London she learned she was immutably American. No matter where she lived there would be loss. She felt more wistfulness than pain over this now.

Anna sat down, but could not concentrate on reading.

Sometimes she imagined a reunion of all the Annas. The Anna who stayed in New York with her parents and grew up to room with Ilse Stein at Barnard; the Anna who went back to New York and lived with Carol Sommers; the Anna who lived on Stockton Street and attended San Francisco State; the Anna who remained in London and married Reuben; the Anna who adopted Leah and returned to the States. Would they all get along with each other? Would they respect each other? Sometimes Anna felt that she was the composite of all those experiences and possibilities, more mature and complex for the variables faced and chosen. Sometimes she felt that there had been no choice, only chance, and that she would be better off as one of the other Annas.

But if she had stayed in London she probably would have lost touch with Wanda and Moira and Teddy. And she valued this remarkable friendship. She occasionally wondered why they had stayed so close despite their different directions. But the answer to that question was why they had become friends in the first place: something in each of them transcended parents and religion and ethnicity and marriage and children — a common independence and a shared sense of potential. Perhaps she would have to settle for a reunion of the Stockton Street women instead of a reunion of the Annas. The friends would meet as a group in good time. They would meet together when they were comfortable enough in their own lives to talk about their differences and similarities.

Leah entered with a pot of fresh tea. ‘What did Aunt Wanda say, Mom?'

The room was small an
d
dark,
remarkably dark for noon in the Golden State. A lamp shone on the red curtains which, Anna noticed, were never dusty. Dr Trubo was usually listening to classical music when Anna arrived. Once she had left it on during the session, but they both found it distracting. The darkness comforted Anna and disturbed her. She understood that Dr Trubo couldn't really open the curtains because her basement office was on a busy street and the patient would be watching feet clomping down the sidewalk outside instead of concentrating on her own inside. Inside: the warm room glowing red from the curtains seemed a blatant metaphor. Yet Dr Trubo had seemed more pleased than annoyed when Anna mentioned this.

Today Anna stared at the fragile, dark psychiatrist, considering how she liked her seriousness, her precise attention, her crisp responses. They had been talking about Anna feeling guilty spending therapy money on herself. And now Anna considered how much she enjoyed it, how she had no intention of giving up therapy so she would just have to give up the guilt.

Abruptly, Dr Trubo cleared her throat and this alarmed Anna for the woman never spoke except in response.

Panicked, Anna decided that she should speak. And she could not help what came out next. ‘I've been wondering if it wouldn't be such a terrible thing if I didn't get married.'

‘Yes?' Dr Trubo sat, her head almost touching the bottom of the frame of a playful Miro print.

Anna lit a cigarette. ‘I don't mean I'd never marry. But we keep talking about marriage and perhaps there are other decisions to make first.'

From outside the window, Anna could hear the slow, heavy gait of someone she imagined to be an old woman.

‘I mean I feel fulfilled with Leah. I've also got Papa and the job. Well, the job has been wearing lately. Perhaps I need to get away from people. Perhaps I have been too involved in their lives. Perhaps I delve too deeply.' She took a long draw on the cigarette.

‘Too deeply?'

‘Or not deeply enough.'

Dr Trubo waited.

‘I've been thinking about going back to school.'

Anna thought she could see a flicker of approval, but she was quite unsure of her next remark.

Anna exhaled the smoke. ‘To study psychology,' she said bravely to the red curtains.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Spring 1950, San Francisco

HYDROGEN BOMB REPORTED 1,000 TIMES MORE POWERFUL THAN A BOMB

CHEROKEES LOSE $6.5 MILLION SUIT AGAINST
US GOVERNMENT

MOSCOW CRITICIZES US ATTEMPT TO
REMILITARIZE JAPAN

US SIGNS MILITARY AID AGREEMENT WITH
FRANCE, VIETNAM, CAMBODIA AND LAOS

TEDDY SLOWLY SET
th
e
table.
She was savoring the afternoon and fearing it. Although she had lived eleven years in this house, it felt like alien territory. Stepping back, she considered the four adult places at the big table and the three places for the girls at the adjacent card table. Children preferred to be on their own, didn't they? Carefully, she smoothed each of the burgundy napkins. Would Moira be disappointed that she wasn't using her mother's Belgian lace, even though there weren't enough to go around? After all, she was using Ann's butter dish and Wanda's silver serving spoons. But the vase — the milkglass vase — that was Moira's. She would notice that.

Turning to the sideboard for knives and forks, Teddy caught her reflection in the mirror. A thin, middle-aged woman with wrinkles around the eyes and streaks of grey in the hair, well, maybe she was exaggerating — she was only thirty-three — a few silver strands here and there. She pulled down her purple sweater, noticing how bony her shoulders seemed. Perhaps she should change into that new paisley blouse. All in all, not a bad sight, Teddy smiled to herself. An almost wise smile. She enjoyed getting older because she felt she had always been in her mid-thirties. This body suited her better now than in her youth when it seemed a lanky Abe Lincoln model. Lanky was all right for men, but she had looked downright undignified until the last couple of years. Dignified! She smiled again. Her attention was caught by the color on the wall opposite, a soft, apricot shade. Angela's choice. She wasn't sure she cared for it, but as Angela said, this was her house too and she had a right. What would the girls say? Some day they would talk about all of it. One thing at a time. Lunch first. Please God they would make it through one lunch. It would be good to talk to Wanda and Anna about Angela with the ease with which they discussed Roy and Reuben. She missed Dawn and Sandra so much. She was happier with Angela than she had been in her whole life. The house was cozy, full of laughs. Just occasionally, she wanted someone to protest to, someone to ask advice from. Just occasionally. Teddy looked through the mirror at the living room, pretty much the same room for eleven years, except for Angela's brown rug and her framed prints. It was a homey place, Jolene said.

‘Admiring yourself, Cleopatra?' Angela entered from the kitchen.

Teddy turned, flushing.

‘Listen, I'm not complaining. I admire you all the time, myself. I know that you want to make sure you're in top shape today.'

‘Still sulking?' Teddy kept her voice light.

‘Na, who cares about being excluded from your old girls' club, your sorority? I'd never worry about Wanda and Anna and Moira, well, Moira is three months pregnant.' Angela laughed and then caught herself. ‘But I guess she was knocked up when you fell in love with her.'

Teddy shook her head. ‘Would you please watch your language. And get out of here before I throw something.' They were laughing now. Angela turned and bumped into Wanda who was walking through the dining room.

‘Oh, I'm sorry,' Wanda blushed. ‘I found the door open. I figured you wanted us to …'

‘Fine, Wanda, fine.' Angela took her tray. ‘Mmmmm
sushi
,
I'm sorry to miss this, but I have a vital engagement.'

Teddy rushed forward and hugged her old friend. She couldn't get over how much more like her mother Wanda was looking every day. Even her movements and her voice seemed to have become, well, more Japanese. Did Wanda notice it, too? Teddy took the tray from Angela and said good-bye. ‘Come into the kitchen, Wanda, and help me finish up.'

Wanda followed through the swinging door, reflecting on the distinctive smell of this house — a combination of the bay leaves that Teddy hung in the kitchen and a general Northern California dampness. Really, she had been silly refusing to visit Stockton Street more often.

Teddy set the
sushi
tray on the shiny linoleum counter. She had cleaned the kitchen for days and still all she could see were spots and stains. Wanda's plate was exquisite: the tuna, salmon, squid and crab arranged delicately on beds of rice and seaweed, so much more attractive than her own lump of meatloaf that was simmering in the oven. Would the menu fit together? She had wanted to organize things more tightly, but Moira said it would be fun if everyone brought her favorite dish even if they wound up with four jello molds.

‘Oh, Teddy.' Wanda looked out at the garden. ‘You've already planted. You'll have the first lettuce in the city. I feel so sentimental.'

‘Really? I never knew how much you liked the garden when you lived here.'

‘I loved watching you and Anna plant it. But I never felt as competent.'

‘You incompetent?' Teddy's eyes widened. ‘Our star? Wanda Watanabe, famous journalist!'

Wanda shrugged.

‘Wanda, whenever I see your name in a magazine, I'm thrilled. The other day on the streetcar, I bent over a man who was reading
Colliers
and said, “I know the author of that article”.'

‘You didn't.' Wanda gripped the edge of the counter, taken aback by her own discomfort.

‘I did, and he told me it was a very fine story. When I got home, I read it and he was right. You know, it was the one about deaf people. You must be so pleased, Wanda, after all your effort. Everything is going great in your life — the articles, Roy, the new house.'

‘Yes.' Wanda stared at the garden as Teddy continued her praise. She knew they would all say something like this. Yes, she was happy, at least happier than she used to be. She loved her work. Roy was a good husband. He had stopped pressuring her about children, although it was clear he would be ready any minute. After all, family was important to a
Nisei
couple. She knew no other Japanese woman her age who was childless. It would work out; it would all work out.

‘I've been lucky in a lot of ways.' Wanda studied Teddy's comfortable face. ‘Not the least of which is the loyalty of my friends.' She walked over and hugged Teddy, embarrassing them both.

They were relieved to hear the doorbell.

‘Guess. Guess who will be next.'

‘No contest.' Teddy laughed over her shoulder. ‘The day Moira shows up on time is the day I turn into Imogen Coca.'

Leah was at the door with a bowl of salad. ‘I made it myself,' she announced and stood on her toes to kiss Teddy. ‘Mom went back to the car. She forgot the bread. She's always forgetting things.'

Teddy returned the kiss. ‘Why child, you're almost a lady. I wouldn't have recognized you. How old are you now?'

‘Twelve.' Leah smiled triumphantly. ‘Hello, Aunt Wanda.'

Wanda bent down to receive a kiss.

Anna panted up the walk, her arms filled with bread and a hot dish Teddy knew would be
kugel
.
Teddy was overcome with nostalgia, so happy she wanted the day to stop here. She hadn't eaten
kugel
since their dance party centuries ago.

Teddy called out, ‘Anna, can I help you?'

‘Don't think so.' Anna smiled anxiously. ‘It's a delicate balance. Just clear me a way to the kitchen.' She hurried in the door, thinking how good it was to see everyone, almost everyone. No doubt Moira would be as late as ever. ‘Leah,' she called ahead, ‘please make a space on the counter.'

Wanda and Teddy followed.

‘Mom is always trying to do too much.' Leah shook her head. ‘Grandpa keeps telling her, but she won't listen.'

‘She's right.' Anna was chastened. ‘Sorry I'm late but I had a case this morning and then Papa's lunch had to be fixed and then, well, if it hadn't been for Leah, we wouldn't be out of the house yet.' She leaned on a yellow chair, lit a cigarette and took a long, slow drag. ‘That's better. Oh, sorry.' She moved the cigarette down at her side. How good they both looked: Teddy relaxed and strong; Wanda so stylish and purposeful. Eleven years ago, Anna thought, women in their thirties were hasbeens and now, well, now she was just beginning her own life. Would there be time to discuss this today? Would they think her plans were crazy? It wouldn't be the first time.

‘Let's have a drink in the living room,' said Teddy, ducking into the closet for sherry and soda pop. Anna and Wanda walked ahead, arms around each other, chatting. Leah carried in dishes of nuts and popcorn. Teddy paused in the doorway, remembering those Saturday mornings when they all lazed around the house after chores. She was grateful they each had come back to her in one piece. Would Moira make it today? How many times had they all tried to get together over the years? Six or seven and always someone was sick or out-of-town. Well, there was nothing to do about it, she would just wait and see. Teddy checked her watch: 12.30. She wouldn't think about Moira for fifteen minutes.

‘Papa grows younger.' Anna smiled. ‘Why this morning he and Leah were outside at — what was it, love — eight o'clock — planting the garden. And he's never going to retire from the factory.'

Teddy poured them each a drink and handed Leah a glass of Coca Cola.

‘A toast,' said Wanda. ‘A toast to old friends.'

‘All old friends,' Anna sighed.

‘Speaking of which,' Teddy leaned forward, ‘have you heard from Reuben lately, Anna? It seems ages since we talked about him.'

‘Yes, actually.' She rubbed her neck. ‘Just last week. He says he wants to come this summer. Wants us to meet in Yosemite, to go hiking together in the High Sierras.'

‘Sounds idyllic,' Wanda commented. She felt a twinge of jealousy. What was getting into her today?

‘Yes,' Anna sighed, ‘and maybe just the tiniest bit impractical.' Eager to change the topic, she asked, ‘What about Betty's music? She was applying to schools the last time we talked.'

Wanda smiled. ‘She got into the Academy and she's doing beautifully. There's a recital next month — the fourteenth, I think — I'll be sending you each invitations. Mama would have been so proud. She came around at the end and loved Betty's music.'

Anna nodded. ‘I was sorry I couldn't make the funeral. We had a family with impossible problems and I was tied up for days. But you went, didn't you, Teddy, and Moira went too.'

‘And a lot of people from camp.' Wanda spoke quickly against the lump in her throat. Although it had been two months since Mama's death, it was still hard to talk about. ‘She would have been pleased. She had more friends than she knew. Many people spoke about her strength.'

Wanda sipped her drink and considered how they were trying out difficult topics. She couldn't help changing the conversation again. Maybe they would feel more secure as the afternoon progressed. ‘So how's work, Teddy.'

‘Well, you'll be surprised to hear I have news. Nothing's happened at that office in ten years and now the best of all possible things …'

‘A promotion?' asked Anna.

‘No, but Mr Whitney is leaving — for a store down in Los Angeles. He has been a real trial, you know. Never did stop pestering me.'

‘But,' Wanda looked puzzled, ‘doesn't that mean you can move up — into his job? You know it backwards.'

‘I'm not interested.' Teddy shrugged, understanding this would bother her friends. ‘I'm happy with my job, with the hours. The pay is enough. I get along with everybody — or at least I will now that Mr Whitney is leaving.'

‘But who knows who your next boss will be?' Wanda bit her lip. This wasn't her business. It wasn't inconceivable for Teddy to be content in the old job and the same house.

‘Between us — Angela and me — we make more than enough money. This place is paid for. I know you think I'm foolish.'

Anna watched the two of them, so opposite in their goals. As much as she had learned about persistence from Wanda, she had learned about acceptance from Teddy. Interesting, this brief mention of Angela. She always entered the conversation fleetingly, as an assumption, as part of Teddy's life that was never fully acknowledged.

The doorbell rang. Teddy's eyes caught her watch. 12.40. She inhaled slowly and tried to relax. These butterflies were ridiculous. She had seen Moira last month. So what if they hadn't all been in the same room together for eight years? They were the same people. Relax, she told herself, just calm down.

Anna lit another cigarette. No, they wouldn't get to Angela today, not in front of Moira. What a relief last year when Moira finally told her about the relationship with Teddy. Teddy knew that she knew now, didn't she?

Wanda noticed how big Moira had got in the last month and she registered Teddy's surprise. Did Teddy know Moira was pregnant again? One difference in the group's friendship now was that one didn't know just what the others knew.

Tess and Clara skipped ahead of their mother into the living room. Both girls had Moira's curly red hair and wide eyes.

Leah rushed over eagerly and then halted, her hands on her hips. ‘Hi there.' She waited for them to come to her. As the oldest child, she was entitled to deference. Anna watched carefully, wondering if Leah felt too old for these little girls — what were they — five-and-a-half and four years old? Finally Leah broke into a smile, herself, and waved them into the dining room where she had been drawing. ‘Come on in. I've been waiting all day for you!'

Moira laughed. ‘The only honest woman in the crowd. Listen, girls, sorry I'm late, but the frosting on this cake went liquid and …' She turned to the front door where Randy stood uncertainly.