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Authors: Fern Michaels

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BOOK: Seasons of Her Life
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Ruby yawned. “I can't believe I fell asleep. It's just that I've ... Andrew, would you please come here? There's something I have to tell you.”
“You mean there's more?” he asked in mock horror.
“There's more. I went to the doctor today. I'm pregnant. I hope you aren't upset.”
Andrew dropped to his haunches. “A kid! Yours and mine! Jesus! A kid! That means I'll be a father and you'll be a mother. We'll be goddamn parents. Holy shit!”
“Does that mean you aren't upset?” Ruby laughed.
“Hell, yes. I mean, no, I'm not upset. We're going to have to juggle and shift and economize, but we can do it. So that's what's been wrong with you. Are you okay? What did the doctor say?”
“He said I had to put on some weight but not to go over twenty pounds. I've lost seven or eight, so I can put on twenty-eight, I guess. I actually feel better than I have in weeks. He said he thinks the morning sickness is over. I hope so anyway.”
“Do you think it'll be a boy?” Andrew asked boyishly.
“If it isn't a girl, it's gonna be a boy. There's only two kinds.”
He was delighted, Ruby thought in relief. Thank God. Now all she had to do was work up her own enthusiasm.
“Are you happy, Ruby?”
“Of course I'm happy. Our very own little person. As soon as I start to feel really good, I'll get into the swing of things. I believe there's some sort of protocol for pregnant women.”
“Can I tell everyone tomorrow?”
“I'll shake you out of your shoes if you don't.” Ruby laughed.
“That means you're going to have to take it easy. I'll send a memo, through channels, to Mrs. Everly that you're on hold for the next nine months. No one is going to expect you to do anything unless you absolutely want to, and that goes for me, too. C'mere, honey.”
Ruby slipped to the floor and snuggled into her husband's arms. They talked, for hours, about everything and anything. They touched and kissed and whispered. They giggled and laughed like small children. They rolled about on the floor, tickling each other, calling out baby names with gusto. They didn't make love, there was no need to. They were closer in spirit than they'd ever been.
When they were in bed, a long time later, curled together, she felt a lone tear roll out of the corner of her eye. She wiped it with the edge of the pillowslip. It had to be a tear of happiness.
 
It took exactly six days for Ruby's appetite to improve, and then there was no stopping her. She ate everything in sight, and when she ran out of food she mooched from Dixie, who was only too happy to accommodate her. The other girls brought over plates of cookies, brownies, and dried fruits, as well as assorted candies and jars of pickles. Ruby ate it all. She was one pound short of her normal weight the day of her dinner party.
The Querys and Frankels were due to arrive at seven. Women crowded in, carrying pails, mops, and brooms. Ruby was reminded of her first day on Iwo Jima Circle. By noon, when the girls took their first break, the small apartment not only gleamed, it sparkled and smelled pleasantly of lemon polish and ever so faintly of pine oil.
“Right before your guests are due to arrive, put these orange peels and this cinnamon stick over the pilot light and the whole place will smell as if you've been in the kitchen for hours.” Sue grinned. “I saved the kids' orange peels this morning.”
“Look what I came up with,” Monica said, coming through the door along with a furious gust of wind. She held a square, silver-plated chafing dish complete with a candle. “I,” she said proudly, “got this from Dolly Nevins, who got it from Sheila, who lives on Montezuma Drive, who got it at a swap meet. She said a retired colonel's wife donated it before they mustered out. It's absolutely perfect for your table, dead center after you remove the centerpiece. What do you think, Ruby?”
“It's perfect.” Ruby beamed nervously. “I'm so jittery.”
“Ruby, you are the belle of the base. Everyone is talking about this dinner, and it goes without saying we're all very, very jealous. It's the coup of a lifetime. Tomorrow you'll be famous. Hey, where's Dixie?”
Ruby's heart fluttered. Until this moment, with all the hectic preparations and cleaning she hadn't noticed her friend's absence. She looked around and saw the girls were all tactfully busying themselves. “I ... she probably . . . you know, those migraines. I guess they're pretty terrible.” She busied herself filling the teakettle and managed to spill half the water over the waxed floor. Christine rushed to wipe it up, their eyes meeting miserably.
With a catch in her voice Monica whispered, “Oh, well, you'll have a lot to talk about when . . . when she's up and about.”
Ruby self-consciously turned the conversation to her own pregnancy and the way she was going to use the storeroom as a nursery.
 
By the end of the afternoon, the apartment was sparkling and a gorgeous table had been set with silver and china that belonged to some of the other women.
“You girls are something else,” Ruby said, feeling an attack of giddiness.
“You wait till it's your turn,” Gertie called over her shoulder as she swept through the door, the other girls behind her. “Good luck, Ruby. Call us as soon as they leave, okay? Secondhand will be almost as good as being here. Remember everything, every word, every gesture. We all want to know how to behave if we ever get the chance to do this.”
“I won't forget a thing,” Ruby promised as she dipped and swirled the Crisco can in soapy water, Dixie's contribution to the evening.
By five-thirty the ice bucket was full of ice, the casserole ready, and the oven lit. She'd already bathed so that Andrew could take his time shaving and dressing.
Ruby burst out laughing when her husband walked through the door. She'd never seen him in a dither, but he was in one now as he rushed about mumbling and fretting that he couldn't see his face in his shiny shoes. Ruby rushed to dab a smear of Vaseline over the highly polished shoes.
“Now, where the hell did you learn that?” Andrew demanded.
“One of the girls.” Ruby giggled. “I keep telling you we have our own methods of keeping you guys on top.”
Andrew hopped into the kitchen on one foot. His face was so miserable that Ruby took pity on him when he confided he was nervous. “Sitting at our table with two flags. It blows my mind, Ruby. Are you really sure that . . . that mess you're serving is good enough?”
“Will you relax, Andrew, you're making
me
nervous. Do I look all right?”
“Beautiful. I mean that, honey. You look great. This past week or so you've really snapped back to your old self. Are you . . . should I mention that you're pregnant?”
“I don't think you'll have to. They'll know. The wives, I mean.”
“Ruby, how can you be so goddamn calm? I can't even sit down till they get here, or the crease in my pants will come out.”
“No, it won't,” Ruby said confidently, remembering they were fresh from the dry cleaner. “Trust me.”
“I did, and look who's coming to dinner,” he bellowed.
Ruby laughed.
The Frankels arrived in a staff car minutes after the Querys. There were kisses and hugs, handshakes and booming laughter that could be heard two doors away.
General Frankel, Ruby decided immediately, was an austere man. He had a ruddy complexion, which made his full head of white hair gleam like a halo. His eyes were green as grass.
The introductions over, the small group settled in and started a round of “do you remember when?” There was a lot of laughter, and after a while Ruby began to realize that these important people felt at ease in her home. They were friendly and outgoing, putting both her and Andrew at ease.
“Come over here, honey,” Janet Query said, motioning to a place on the sofa between her and the general's wife. “Now, tell us, you didn't go out of your way for us, did you? We remember what it was like being a lieutenant's wife, and believe you me, the pay was a lot less back then.”
Ruby smiled. “Actually, Mrs. Query, I was going to make a fancy dinner, but it wasn't in our budget, so what you're getting is my prize-winning casserole.” There was no note of apology in her voice. Arlene Frankel nodded approvingly.
“They're still doing that, eh? I won a prize for an ungodly concoction using beef jerky, but it was only third prize. I wasn't much of a cook in those days. What did you win, my dear?”
“Would you like to see it?” Ruby asked eagerly.
She was back in a second with the little net bag that both women oohed and aahed over.
“You know, Ruby, I've been meaning to write and tell you that the admiral was absolutely lost without you once you left,” Mrs. Query said. “He had six secretaries from the time you left until he retired on the first of the year, and he was always such a grouchy bear when he came home at night. You spoiled that man, you really did. It was his idea to visit you. Not that I didn't want to,” she said hastily. “He wanted to be sure you were all right and that the Marine Corps was taking care of his girl. They are, aren't they, Arlene?” she said pointedly.
Ruby held her breath. How was the general's wife going to answer that?
“Edward, is the Marine Corps taking care of Mrs. Blue?” Mrs. Frankel called across the room. Janet Query winked at Ruby, who sat bug-eyed, waiting for the general's reply.
“Hell, Arlene, I don't know. Young man, is the Corps taking care of the two of you?” the general boomed.
“Ah, yes, sir, General,” Andrew said in a shocked voice.
“Good. That's what I like to hear,” the general replied.
“When is your baby due, Ruby?” Arlene Frankel asked, as if that had been the subject of the conversation all along.
Startled, Ruby blurted out, “Not for six months.”
“That's wonderful.” Janet Query beamed.
“I'll expect a cigar, Lieutenant,” General Frankel boomed.
“Yes, sir,” Andrew said dutifully.
“You'll send us an announcement, Ruby?” Janet asked.
“Actually, Mrs. Query, I was going to ask you and the admiral if you would . . . what I was going . . . do you think . . . ?”
“We'd love to.” Janet laughed. “Clark has never been a godfather before.”
“Thank you, sir,” Andrew said huskily.
“My pleasure, young man.”
When they sat down to dinner, Ruby was given compliment after compliment about her casserole, and everything seemed to go smoothly until, toward the end the kitchen wall suddenly came to life with violent thumping and a muffled scream from the other side.
Ruby's head jerked upright till she was staring into her husband's piercing gaze. She chewed on her lip when Andrew said the people next door were fond of playing their radio rather loudly. Admiral Query stared across the table at his hostess. She knew he didn't believe a word of Andrew's explanation.
“Wonderful dinner, Ruby,” he said, obviously trying to ease her mind. “What's for dessert?”
“Clark!” his wife chided.
Ruby laughed, but the sound was hollow. “I made a chocolate cake filled with pudding and marshmallow and nuts. You . . . you freeze it and then slice it like a log cake. We have some . . . canned fruit if you think that's too rich.” Her ear was cocked toward the wall, but she couldn't help it.
Janet Query noticed her distraction. Her own soft gray eyes were full of concern when she asked lightly, “Who lives next door, Ruby?”
“Which side?” Ruby asked tightly.
Janet pointed to the kitchen wall. Ruby felt like jumping out of her skin. She slammed the refrigerator door too hard and felt the bottles and cans bang against the door.
“Hugo Sinclaire and his wife,” Andrew said quickly. “Her name's Dixie, isn't it, Ruby?”
“Yes, Dixie. She's pregnant, too.” She turned then to reach for the cake plates from the shelf above her head.
“Nice people. Everyone is nice around here. They've made us feel at home. Ruby and Dixie are fast friends, aren't you, Ruby?”
“Yes. Yes, we are,” Ruby said, slicing the cake in equal portions. “The coffee will be ready in a minute,” she said in a choked voice.
“I know Hugo,” General Frankel said thoughtfully. “Outstanding officer, and he's up for promotion.”
Admiral Query swiveled in his chair. “Ruby, is anything wrong?”
“Wrong? Oh, no, Admiral Query. I think I ate too much, that's all. I'm going to pass on this cake. Sweets are my downfall,” she said lightly. She knew she wasn't fooling her old boss, but it was the best she could do. Andrew was going to take a fit later when their guests left, she thought uneasily.
“I put chicory in the coffee, Admiral. I think it's just the way you like it,” Ruby said, offering him the cake plate. She poured the fragrant coffee with a trembling hand.
Admiral Query met the general's eyes. There were no obvious nods, no words to indicate either man was aware that something was suddenly not quite right in the Blue household.
“This is wonderful, Ruby,” the admiral said enthusiastically. “Give my wife this recipe, too.”
The dinner conversation seemed to accelerate, to the point that Ruby thought she would scream. Her ears were so tuned to the back kitchen wall, she found herself staring at it, willing the occupants to keep quiet.
There were no coffee refills, no second helpings of cake. The men excused themselves while their wives volunteered to clean up the dishes, over Ruby's protests.
BOOK: Seasons of Her Life
7.5Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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