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Authors: Fern Michaels

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BOOK: Seasons of Her Life
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“If you're going to smoke that smelly cigar, Clark, you go outside,” Janet Query ordered in a voice that matched her husband's when he issued a direct order to a subordinate.
“Your pipe isn't exempt, Ed.” Arlene smiled. “Ruby's pregnant and smoke will make her sick. Go along now, this is women's work.”
“Thank God,” Clark Query muttered as he reached for his overcoat.
“Lieutenant, you're free to join us. I need to stretch my legs. A walk around this little area will bring back some fond memories. Of course, if you'd rather stay here with your wife while our wives play housemaid, we'll understand.” The general's voice clearly indicated Andrew should favor the latter suggestion, which he did.
 
Outside in the crisp February air, Ed Frankel turned to his old friend. “Spit it out, Clark, what's going on?”
“Shit, Ed, I don't know. Something in the apartment next door. Maybe you didn't pick up on it because you don't know Ruby the way I do. Her husband was aware, too; things changed when that commotion started in the apartment next to theirs. I heard a scream and it didn't come from a radio. Sounded to me like someone got slammed against a wall.”
“Jesus, Clark, are you suggesting we ... spy on the Blues' neighbors?”
“We're out for an after-dinner stroll. Send your driver for your pipe tobacco. Tell him you forgot it. Jesus, since when does the navy have to do your thinking?” It was an old argument between them. The general bristled but walked over to his staff car and issued the order.
“Now what?” he barked.
“Now we walk. If you wear glasses, this is the time to put them on.” Query fitted his own wire rims over his ears that for the most part he was too vain to wear. The dark world burst into sharp focus as he stared at the apartment next to the Blues. The drapes were pulled, but cracks of light shone around the edges. The drapes on the Blues' front windows were also drawn against the dark night. It was entirely possible, Query thought, to get mixed up and knock on the wrong door when they returned from their stroll. He voiced the thought to his friend.
“Even a grunt wouldn't do something that stupid,” Frankel grumbled.
“Right, but who's going to question
you
?”
“I know what you're thinking. This could be serious.”
“Only if you act on it or bring it to a head. Ruby said the woman was pregnant. What if he's beating her up in there? Would you want that on your conscience? If this was my command, that bastard's ass would be out of here so fast, his head would be rotating on his shoulders. If I'm wrong, and I hope I am, no harm will be done.”
“Has it occurred to you, Clark, that maybe it
was
a damned radio? Even in the military, a man's home is his castle, and what goes on—”
“Bullshit, Ed! We have our share of screwballs in the military. I've lived my life paying attention to my hunches; so have you, unless you've changed over the years. There's trouble there, pure and simple. It's your call; this is your turf. I'll not say another word.”
General Frankel puffed on his pipe. “My problem is that Sinclaire is up for promotion. I've already written a glowing fitness report on him, based on his commanding officer's recommendation. If you're right about him, I'm going to have to spend a lot of time covering my ass.”
“I know, Ed. I said, it's your call.”
Five minutes later they were back at their starting point. Query moved in the direction of the Blues' apartment when the door next door burst open. Hugo Sinclaire froze, the open door yawning behind him. General Frankel moved quickly for a man his age and snapped a smart salute which Hugo Sinclaire had no choice but to return, which prevented him from immediately closing the door.
Both older men looked past him to the crumpled form on the floor outlined in the light of the doorway. “Nice evening, Lieutenant,” Frankel said briskly, moving toward the Blues' walkway. “I used to live here myself,” he shot over his shoulder. He heard rather than saw the door close. Neither officer spoke when they returned to the Blues' living room.
The Blues' guests stayed on an extra thirty minutes before they called it a night.
“Remember, now, Ruby, we want to know as soon as the baby arrives,” Janet Query said, hugging Ruby. She whispered against Ruby's ear. “Everything is going to be fine. Trust us.” Ruby completely misunderstood the admiral's wife.
“I'll call you in a day or so and have you join my expectant mothers' class, Ruby. I think you might like sharing this precious time with other mothers to be,” Arlene Frankel said.
“Thank you, Mrs. Frankel, I'd like that. Is there room for my friend Dixie?”
“Why certainly,” Arlene Frankel said without a moment's hesitation.
 
Ruby was returning from the commissary two days later, her arms full of groceries, when she saw the moving van pull away from the apartment next to hers. She set her grocery bags down and ran to the curb, demanding to know where the Sinclaires were.
“Gone. We got our orders to pick up late yesterday.”
“But . . . you mean they're
gone
?”
“Sweetie, they ain't in there, if that's what you're asking me. We're moving this stuff to the Mojave Desert.”
“You're what?” Ruby wailed.
“Look, sweet thing, I'd like to sit here and talk to you, but we have a lot of miles to cover, and this stuff has to be there when the Sinclaires sit down. You know how it works. Look on the bright side, you're going to get a new neighbor.”
Ruby walked over to the Sinclaires' apartment and opened the door. Her steps echoed as she moved from room to room. Tears gathered in her eyes. On a wall of the little cubicle Dixie had planned on turning into a nursery there marched nursery-rhyme decals. Her fingers traced over a smiling Peter Pan.
Dixie hadn't said good-bye. Ruby sniffed and blew her nose. Why? Maybe her friend had left a note under her door. She ran to her own apartment, forgetting the groceries sitting on the walk. She sobbed in disappointment when she found no note.
She remembered the grocery sacks and carried them into the house. She was still sobbing as she put the food staples on the shelf above the sink. She stopped only long enough to call the girls. When she hung up after her last call, she sensed that something was wrong. All the girls knew that Dixie and Hugo had left. They knew and hadn't said anything.
Gone.
She was still crying, curled into the corner of the sofa when Andrew came in from work. She hadn't bothered to turn on any lights and had made no attempt to start supper.
“She didn't even say good-bye, Andrew. How could she do that to me?” Ruby said, beating her clenched fists into the cushions. “Did you know, Andrew? If you did and didn't tell me, I'll never forgive you. All the girls knew; they said their husbands told them. Tell me the truth!” Ruby wailed.
“Ruby, I swear I didn't know. I
heard
that Hugo put in for an immediate transfer, but the way the Corps works, it usually takes weeks. I was going to tell you this evening. The story I got, which is probably fifth hand at best, is Hugo put in for the transfer, because he found out he was passed over.
“Honey, I know you feel bad. I hate to say this, but I did try to warn you not to get involved. Dixie wasn't the person you thought she was. If she cared about you as a friend, she wouldn't have left like that. How the hell long does it take to make a phone call or scribble a note and slip it under the door?”
“It's not just Dixie. The girls are all acting very coolly toward me these past days. Everything has changed, and not for the better. And don't tell me that I'm imagining things. And as far as Dixie goes, I believe her damn husband wouldn't let her say good-bye. If he was such a sure thing, and everyone says he was, how come he didn't make it?”
“Who knows,” Andrew said. “He could have farted wrong.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Ruby opened the front door of her apartment, then quickly
closed it. There was no way she was going to walk against the buffeting wind all the way across the base. March, she thought ruefully, was roaring like the proverbial lion. It wasn't cold, though, so that was a blessing. Spring, she knew, hovered just around the corner. Yesterday she'd seen tiny little purple crocuses poking their heads up in the Sinclaires' straggly winterized garden. Only it wasn't the Sinclaires' garden anymore. Now a family named Galen lived in the rooms Dixie had decorated.
Penny Galen had her own car, a cream-colored DeSoto, and right off that set her above Ruby and the other girls. She also had stylish clothes and expensive shoes and handbags. Her two children, ages four and six, looked like little models from the Sears, Roebuck catalogue. Their furniture was expensive: a pale blue brocaded sofa with matching chairs in plum and pale blue. Grand was the term the girls used to describe the contents of the Galen household.
Penny Galen favored inch-long fingernails, highly polished to match her pedicured toenails. She went into New Bern to have them done once a week, along with her beehive hairdo, which was bleached a sinful white. Monica said the shade was called platinum. Christine wondered out loud how she wiped her rear end with her long nails. Monica said she was so perfumed and powdered, she left a trail all over the base. Penny Galen was not one of them. She made her point the day they descended on her and offered to help her clean her apartment. “I,” she said regally, “have help.” The help was a middle-aged Polish woman from New Bern who arrived on Tuesdays and Saturdays to polish and scrub. Penny Galen was an only child and a military brat who had lived all over the world. She let it be known from the first that her daddy was a full colonel and had pull. Dave, her husband, wasn't going to fiddle-shit around, trying to make points with low-ranking officers. The girls blushed and flushed and backed out Penny Galen's door, vowing never to return. Gertie, in a fit of pique, said snidely that General Frankel and Admiral Query were personal friends of the Blues and dined there frequently. Ruby wanted to slap Gertie when she saw the speculative look on Penny's face. She did not need a friend like Penny Galen.
Later, when she had time to think about the incident, she decided Gertie's motives were suspicious. All the old camaraderie was gone. Oh, the girls still included her in their kaffeeklatches and luncheons and do-good affairs, but it wasn't the same. It seemed to Ruby that they were constantly on guard and watched their tongues the way they watched their household money. It had almost reached the point where Ruby wanted to say the hell with it all and stay in her apartment by herself to read or clean. She was on edge all the time and so lonely; she found herself crying for no reason at all. The doctor said that crying was normal, that pregnancy affected each woman differently.
Andrew volunteered the information that Dave Galen was a stuffed shirt with delusions of military grandeur.
“Don't get involved,” he warned Ruby in the same tone of voice he'd warned her about Dixie. But this time Ruby agreed.
“Andrew, she calls and knocks on the door, and I don't answer. What else can I do?”
“Tell her, point-blank. Why should you have to hide out or avoid the phone?”
“It's not that easy, Andrew. You've drummed into my head that I have to wear your rank and make nice because we never know when we're going to come up against them. You said we shouldn't make enemies.”
“Do what you want, Ruby, but always remember the Sinclaires. That's all going to bounce back on us someday. I feel it in my gut. I'm not exactly popular at headquarters these days.”
Ruby stared at her husband. He was blaming her. She felt miserable.
“I know it's all my fault,” she said, though she didn't believe it for a second. She would never believe she had done anything wrong with regard to Dixie and Hugo, but if it made Andrew feel better to believe she had, so be it.
The succeeding days crawled by, each lonelier than the day before. She marked off days on the calendar with a red pencil, she didn't know why. She was gaining an alarming amount of weight, but she didn't stop eating the rich butter cookies and equally rich chocolate cakes she was addicted to. When she wasn't eating cookies and cake, she was making fudge, pounds of it, which she devoured in an evening.
The days were warmer now, and April showers had dampened the hard earth around the complex, making it suitable for planting flowers. This she did at dusk, when she knew Penny Galen was inside her apartment, serving a gourmet dinner to her family. She still met with the girls once or twice a week, even though she felt like an outsider. So many times she wanted to ask them what she'd done to make them change their attitude toward her, but she knew that if she did, they would tell her it was her imagination.
All the girls talked about these days was the promotion board's decision, which would be coming out shortly. Kent Aldridge's wife was so certain her husband was going to make rank, she had a party planned for the day of confirmation. There was nothing shy about Evelyn Aldridge. Kent deserved it, she said over and over. Hugo Sinclaire was never mentioned. Ruby was to bring a nine-bean salad to the dinner party.
Ruby felt the girls were envious of her relationship with General Frankel's wife, which had grown closer during the expectant mothers' class. The class had led to a friendly tea, a trip to the commissary with Arlene Frankel, and once in a while a ride home in the general's staff car. The general's wife was even giving her driving lessons. The day Penny Galen saw her getting out of the car, Ruby felt like thumbing her nose at the snobbish young woman. Instead, she'd nodded curtly and dashed into her apartment.
Today, Arlene Frankel had taken her aside and asked if something was wrong. Ruby hadn't meant to say anything, but the words tumbled out. She confessed her rapid weight gain, the other girls' coolness to her, Penny Galen's determination to invade her privacy, and the real gut-wrenching hurt of Dixie's departure without so much as a good-bye, drop dead, or see you in ten or twenty years.
The older woman's eyes saddened. “Ruby, my dear, life in the military isn't always easy, as I'm sure you've found out. But you're tough, Ruby, Janet and Clark told me that. You can make it. You've got it all going for you. Face the problems with courage, and if there's an unexpected boost along the way, accept it. As for your friend Dixie, it's her loss that she didn't consider you friend enough to say good-bye. Don't look back, my dear, only forward. Be prepared and remember your priorities. However, if you like, I can find out where the Sinclaires were transferred, should you want to write your friend.”
Ruby's shoulders straightened. “No, thank you, Mrs. Frankel. It's better this way.”
Arlene Frankel smiled. “Good girl, Ruby. That's exactly what I would have said. It's almost time for you to start dinner, so I'll have my driver take you home. If you have any problems, I want you to feel free to call me. Don't worry about the rank thing. Promise me.”
Ruby nodded. She now had a mentor.
 
The fifteenth of April dawned clear and bright, although the weatherman promised rain by evening. It was warm, almost balmy, Ruby thought as she set about preparing the nine-bean salad for Kent Aldridge's promotion party. While the party was pot luck, it was being held at the Officers' Club. For the past two days she'd made congratulation banners and posters but had turned the ladder-climbing over to the other girls.
Ruby snapped the airtight lid on the Tupperware container, then burped it. Done. Now all she had to do was walk over to the commissary for milk and bread and she had the rest of the day to herself.
Ruby ran a brush through her short curly hair and was about to walk out the door when the phone rang.
“Ruby?”
Annoyed, Ruby snapped, “Andrew, who else do you think is going to answer our phone? Of course it's me. What's wrong?” she asked uneasily.
“Listen, I want you to meet me right now. Walk over to the commissary, and I'll be waiting outside. Now, Ruby!”
There was something in Andrew's voice she'd never heard before. “I'm leaving right now, as a matter of fact. It's going to take me at least fifteen minutes.”
“Don't stop to talk to anyone, okay?”
“Okay, okay. If you hang up, I can leave.” She was out the door a second later and halfway down Iwo Jima Circle when Penny Galen pulled to the other side of the street. She lowered the window. “I'm going to the commissary, do you want a ride?” Ruby debated a fraction of a second and then nodded when she remembered how worried and anxious Andrew sounded.
“I guess you're all ready for the Aldridges' celebration this evening.” Penny said in what Ruby called her uppity tone.
“I made my bean salad this morning, so I guess that means I'm ready. It was nice of you to offer me a lift. I'm meeting Andrew.”
“You should have a car, Ruby. However, since you don't, I can drive you to Mrs. Frankel's for your classes. All you have to do is ask, Ruby.”
Ruby bit down on her tongue. Sure, so you can horn in and make trouble, Ruby thought nastily. She forced a smile to her lips. “I need the exercise. It's good for me to walk. Thanks for the offer, though.”
“I could pick you up after the class. You're probably tired from all that exercising. I can call Mrs. Frankel and drive the girls home. It's no bother at all.”
“I don't think she'd like that, Penny. Mrs. Frankel is adamant that we do all the walking we can. Listen, I'll think about it. Maybe in my ninth month, when I start to wobble. Oh, look, there's Andrew. Thanks for the ride, Penny.”
Ruby's heart thudded in her chest when she saw the high color in her husband's face. “C'mon, over here, where no one can hear us.” Ruby's heart thudded a second time.
“The shit hit the fan, Ruby. I got the promotion, not Kent Aldridge. Jesus, Ruby, do you know how this looks?”
“We're having nine-bean salad for dinner,” Ruby said stupidly. She felt her tongue grow thick in her mouth. “What about the party for Kent?”
“I don't give a shit about Kent's party. There's more. Are you ready to hear it?” Ruby could feel herself start to tremble. She nodded.
“I'm being assigned as Frankel's aide. The guy who has been with him for years is retiring the first of May. Frankel is going to Korea and I go too. Ruby, for Christ's sake, are you listening to me? See what having friends in high places does?”
“Let me get this straight, Andrew. Are you
blaming
me for this promotion? If you are, you can stop right now. If you don't want it, give it back. Tell them you like what you do. I don't believe this. You made me come all the way over here so you could blame me? Stuff it, Andrew.” Ruby turned and walked away. “If you want breakfast in the morning, you better get some milk and bread. I'm going home.”
“Ruby, wait. Look, I'm not blaming you. But it's already all over the whole fucking base that I aced out Hugo and put a whammy on Kent all because of
your
supposed connections. And the kicker is, I have to go to Korea without you. You're going to be here by yourself. You'll be alone when you have the baby. Jesus, Ruby, think about
that
.”
“When it comes right down to it, Andrew, even if you were here, I'd still be alone when I had the baby. You'd just be standing outside the delivery room, waiting to hear if it was a boy or a girl. I think I can handle it,
Captain
Blue.” She whipped off a smart salute.
Andrew grinned from ear to ear. His blue eyes sparkled as he snapped off a return salute. “You're the first person to call me that. I gotta get back. Are you okay?”
“Right as rain, Captain. I'll see you at dinner. Remember, we're having nine-bean salad. Don't forget the milk and bread.”
“Ruby, you're right here. Go in and get it.”
“No. I have to think about all this. I don't want to run into anyone who might have heard. I want to be the one who decides how to handle this. Congratulations, Andrew. I know
we're
going to enjoy our new rank.” Her husband laughed heartily.
The moment Andrew turned to walk back to headquarters, Ruby sobered. “Oh, shit!” she muttered. “Now what do I do? Do I call the girls, or do I sit tight and wait to see if they call me?”
Back in her apartment she alternated between looking at the Tupperware bowl of salad and the phone, willing it to ring. She knew it wouldn't, but she hoped.
Andrew was going to Korea and leaving her behind. She hadn't asked him for how long. Did he even know? Mrs. Frankel would. Was she supposed to call her and thank her? Maybe Mrs. Frankel would call and congratulate her. That sounded more reasonable. Andrew going off and leaving her. There was no doubt in her mind that she would survive, but she was going to be so lonely. So very lonely. Surely the tour wouldn't be for more than a year. A year was only twelve months, and she would have the baby to keep her busy during the last part. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all. Babies were demanding. This was going to take some getting used to. She continued to eye the silent black phone. If it did ring now, it wouldn't be pleasant. The caller would be harsh and bitter. She whipped the receiver off the hook and laid it down.
Ruby sat down at the kitchen table. The hardest thing would be trying to act as if nothing had changed. She was the same;
she
hadn't changed. “Well, I'm not going to hide out, that's for sure!” Ruby muttered.
She picked up the receiver of the squat black phone and dialed Evelyn Aldridge's phone number.
BOOK: Seasons of Her Life
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