Susan baked half a dozen blueberry and coffee cake muffins. Each one was topped with crusted sugar and cinnamon crumble. Wafts from the oven carried the sweet smell through the house and despite her diet plans, she found herself munching on crumbs.
She crafted a perfect welcome basket that sat on a blue and white plaid napkin with muffins. Inside she tucked a few pamphlets she made up years ago that explained the rationing system and a hand drawn map of New Haven 56. In the back she tucked the drive-in schedule of movies for the month and a coupon book to her husband’s restaurant.
She wrapped the handle in a blue bow and set off in her sedan. While Megan hadn’t given her address, it wasn’t hard to find. Other residents loitering a few blocks away; the crowd was huddled together and talked out of their corner of their mouths, buzzing with excitement.
The house was a two story white house, but from the size of it Susan could tell it was probably quaint inside. In the small driveway was a van and three movers dressed in brown uniforms bustled with card board boxes; all of the contents part of the starting package provided by New Haven 56.
Susan parked alongside the curb and after a check on her hair was out with basket in hand. The lawn was still long, but she knew of a wonderful landscape service that could help, and there were dead stems in a pot that once had been beautiful flowers. This place had a lot of work to be done. Susan wondered for a moment whom lived here before and then she remembered.
She shuddered.
With a deep breath she rang the doorbell and waited with a smile for it to be answered.
A woman answered, dressed in a simple checkered dress. Her eyes were a pale blue and hidden behind a pair of horn rimmed glasses. “Yes?” She whispered and Susan could see her eyes were glassy, her cheeks were still flushed, and there was a slight quiver in her hands.
She offered her new neighbor a grand smile. “Susan Monroe and I’ve come to welcome you to the neighborhood. I hope you like muffins.” Susan held the basket out.
“Diane.” Her eyes studied the basket. “That’s…very kind of you.” Diane took the basket, studying the content.
Susan clasped her hands in front of her. “Well, I know how stressful a move to a new city can be on you and especially the children. You’ll have to make sure they’re okay with the process, won’t you?”
Diane nodded, tears glistening in her eyes.
“New job? Is that why you moved here?” Susan’s voice edged her on.
Startled, Diane blinked her eyes. “Moved here? Moved here? Don’t you know? Don’t you know what this place is?”
Susan’s smile stretched like an elastic band and her heartbeat quickened. “Of course I do. It’s a great community. We have friends, families, jobs. Every weekend there’s a sock hop downtown. Our children can grow, thrive. So now you go on and tell me, why did you move here?”
Diane swallowed, glancing down. “So my children could grow up safe.”
Susan squeezed the woman’s wrist. She wore the same bracelet that Susan wore, that they all wore. “Why don’t you invite me inside and I can start to show you the ropes, okay? I’ll explain a few things to you. Trust me, there’s a lot of misinformation out there.”
“I could put on some water for tea.” Diane said and pattered inside, leaving Susan to step in and close the door behind her.
Susan adjusted her skirt and heard the sound of playing coming from the living room. Peeking her head around the corner, she saw the sofa and furnishings were already in place with cardboard boxes stacked against the wall. The two children played on the beige rug were boys and probably only ages four and five. Cute children, Susan thought. Each of them had thick blond hair with bracelets on their wrists and around their necks Susan saw red marks.
She gulped down a quick breath of air. How horrid the process was, just horrid.
Susan clicked down the hall and found the kitchen. Diane sat at the table beside a window that overlooked a small cramped yard. If it was big enough for a barbecue grill, Susan would have been surprised. The husband and wife were quiet, holding each other’s hands, while their eyes were somewhere else. Susan knew what it was like; she knew exactly what they were going through.
She sat down beside them and outreached her hand on top of theirs. “It’ll be all right.” Susan said softly. “You’ll get through this fine. In a few weeks, you’ll begin to feel better, fit in.”
The husband glanced at Susan for the first time. His eyes were a deep brown and held so much sadness, she felt it. “We were living in Ohio. The kids just started school. We weren’t hurting anyone.”
Susan knew. She understood. “This is the way things are. It can be a good life if you accept it.”
“And if you don’t?” He asked quietly, angrily.
“You’ll go away.” She admitted. “And those children, those beautiful children will grow up without a father. If they grow up at all.”
He squeezed his eyes shut, his eyes trained on the wood table.
“Will the tea be ready soon?”
Diane nodded. “It should be in a minute.”
“Good,” Susan patted her knee with a big smile, “we’ll sit over muffins and you can tell me about the new jobs you’ve gotten. And I’ll tell you all about my big Tupperware party next week. Wouldn’t it be nice to get out and meet some of your neighbors?”