I thought of my inept use of the kitchen pump, and I would have been lost in the outhouse if she hadn’t told me about the Sears and Roebuck catalog. I would have thought it was there to read, the way my mother kept a Reader’s Digest in our bathroom at home. In Ivy’s world, I was the retarded one.
“Her grandmother’s signed the petition and all I have to do at this point is turn it in,” I said. “But as I get to know her, I’m having trouble doing that.”
“Well, you said it yourself, Jane. She’s overwhelmed. What will another baby do? Make her less overwhelmed? And the baby will most likely inherit some of the problems you just described. Perhaps the mother’s mental illness. Epilepsy. Low intelligence. Maybe even the grandmother’s diabetes. If it were up to me, I’d get her sterilized sooner rather than later. I’d want to lighten her load and the load on the welfare system.”
I nodded, not happy with the answer. “Thanks for talking to me about it.”
He smiled. “My pleasure,” he said.
We walked back to the table in silence. Deborah sent me a look of blue-eyed daggers across the table but I turned away. I felt depleted. All the people—Robert, Charlotte, Paula, Fred, Gayle, Ann—who’d told me Ivy should have the surgery had made similar arguments. Not one had agreed with me. Maybe I was the one who was wrong.
Gavin leaned over and whispered in my ear, “Well, that looked rather intense.”
I smiled uncomfortably, not looking at him. I felt Robert’s disapproval of me and thought I had been rude, monopolizing another girl’s husband, bending his ear for so long. The next time Deborah looked my way, I was ready and caught her eye. “Thanks for letting me borrow your husband,” I said across the table. “He helped me figure out a problem I’m having at work.” She didn’t smile, but turned toward Beverly Ann, and I knew the look they exchanged was enough to keep me out of their circle for the rest of my life.
The band started playing “The Twist,” and nearly everyone got to their feet, Robert included. He reached his hand toward me and we joined the mob on the dance floor. I loved that dance. Loved how it made me feel—young and free. I’d never again be able to do the twist without thinking of the Hart family and the few precious, lighthearted minutes in their kitchen last week, when even Winona Hart couldn’t help but smile.
When we returned to our seats, the other three wives excused themselves to go to the ladies’ room. None of them looked in my direction with an invitation to join them and that, maybe more than anything else that had happened during the evening, made me aware I was an outsider.
I stood up, and Robert looked at me in surprise. “Going to powder my nose,” I said, and I followed the three girls, tagging along behind them, carrying my sequined purse with its lipstick and powder.
The restroom was large, and I stood next to Deborah in the mirrored lounge as we each reapplied our lipstick.
“I really am sorry I monopolized your husband like that,” I said. “It was rude. I had a question about psychological testing regarding one of my clients and he was able to explain a few things to me. I had no idea it would take so long.”
She cut her eyes at me, then pressed her lips together around a tissue. “You think you’re above us, don’t you,” she said, tossing the tissue into the can below the counter.
“No,” I said. “Why on earth would I think that?”
“We all have university degrees. Beverly Ann, Lois, and I. You’re not the only one.”
“I never thought I was,” I said, “and what does it matter, anyhow? I don’t care who has a degree and who doesn’t.”
“Leave her alone.” Lois approached us, pulling a comb from her purse. To me, she said, “Don’t listen to her.”
“I’d like us to be friends,” I said to both of them. “Our husbands are all connected through the club, and we’re going to be seeing each other throughout our lives, so please. Can we try to be friends?”
“Of course we can.” Lois ran the comb through her short brown hair. She was the only girl in the lounge who wasn’t wearing a fancy hairstyle.
“I don’t see the point,” Deborah said. “You refuse to join the Junior League, and you’re working, so the only time we’ll ever see you is events like this.”
“I can do things with all of you, just not in the daytime,” I said. “I’m really not sure why you’re freezing me out like this.”
“You have no idea how hard we work,” Deborah said. “Taking care of a household and two children, plus working in the thrift shop and—”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake, Deborah,” Lois said. “You have a full-time maid. When is the last time you did a load of laundry?”
“You’ve frozen yourself out.” Beverly Ann appeared in the mirror behind me, smoothing her hair carefully into place. “Come on, Deb,” she said.
I bit my lip as I watched them leave the lounge. Lois touched my elbow. “Let’s sit for a minute,” she said, nodding toward the two chairs near the door.
I was all too ready to sit. “I never got back to Beverly Ann about the league,” I admitted. “My mistake.”
“Most of the wives are lovely, and I think you’d enjoy the Junior League,” Lois said. “Tonight, we just got stuck sitting with two of the prunes. I’ve been ill off and on for the last couple of years and—”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Perhaps that explained her pallor.
She shrugged off my sympathy. “They … Deborah and Beverly Ann … they cut me out. When I couldn’t make league meetings or help with a baby shower or whatever, they stopped calling. So it’s not just you. It’s anyone who doesn’t fit neatly into their mold.”
“Thank you for telling me that.”
“They’re threatened by you,” she said. “You chose to do something they’d never have the gumption to choose for themselves. Being their own person. When I was teaching, it upset Gavin at first because he thought it reflected badly on him, but then he realized how much I loved it. How it made me a happier person. I hope Robert understands that, too.”
“Oh, he does,” I said, a tiny bit envious.
“That’s what it’s all about, isn’t it?” she asked. “Being able to choose what we want to do.”
I walked with her back to our table, thinking not about her or myself or Beverly Ann or Deborah, but about Lita Jordan and Ivy and Mary Ella Hart and all the other women and girls I was seeing who didn’t have many choices in their lives at all.
* * *
Robert was quiet in the car on the way home and I felt the tension between us. The evening had definitely gone downhill and I knew it was my fault. He’d had such high expectations. I remembered him saying he wanted to show me off. Now, he probably wanted to hide me.
“The band was great,” I said, taking a stab at a neutral conversation. “I loved how they played something for everyone. You know, for all the age groups.”
“You don’t even try to get along with them.” His hands clenched the steering wheel, eyes on the road.
“What are you talking about?”
“The wives. You don’t have any problem talking to the men, though, do you.” He glanced at me. “No problem there at all. But you look down your nose at the girls. You’re never going to fit in.”
“I do not look down my nose at them!” I said. “Why do you think I followed them to the powder room? Except for Lois, they were intentionally rude to me, so I went with them to the powder room to talk to them directly about trying to be friends.”
“Well, there’s your problem.” He shook his head. “You don’t talk directly about things like that. I swear, Jane, you have no social graces whatsoever.”
“Why not be direct?” I said. I was pulling the silly pearls out of my hair and dropping them in my purse. “Isn’t it better to be honest? Lois understood. At least I have one friend in that group.”
His nostrils flared, the way they did when he got angry. “You’ve changed so much since you started working,” he said.
“I haven’t changed.” I pu
lled the bobby pins out of my hair and tried to let it down, but it was sprayed into place. “It’s just that the things you loved about me when we were dating are the things that seem to bother you now,” I said. “I’m the same person. You loved that person as your girlfriend, but not as your wife.”
“We’re in that beautiful club tonight, surrounded by successful people who’ve worked hard to get where they are—and all you could think about was those … people you work with.” He made the word “people” sound like something dirty. “Do you have to throw it in their faces? That you work with Negroes and poor white trash?”
“Don’t talk about my clients that way, all right?” I snapped. “Just don’t!”
“You better start caring about your marriage as much as you care about them.”
“Is that supposed to be some kind of threat?” I stared at him. I wished he’d look at me. I wanted him to see the fury in my face. But he focused on turning into our driveway, parking next to my car. Then he finally turned to me.
“Lois will be dead in a year,” he said.
“What?”
“She has cancer. So if she’s your only friend in our social circle, you’re in trouble.”
He got out of the car and walked around to my side to open my door for me, but I brushed away his hand when he reached for mine to help me out.
“Just leave me alone,” I said.
I didn’t need to ask him twice. He slammed the door so hard that I jumped.
I rolled down the window to catch the breeze and sat there for what seemed like hours. How Robert had looked forward to this night! I played back the evening, remembering my determination to be light and fun and attentive to him all evening, a plan that fell apart within minutes of our arrival.
My fault.
No one else to blame.
I got out of the car and went into the house to apologize to my husband.
22
Ivy
Mrs. Forrester popped out of the woods while I was hanging sheets on the line. Baby William’d peed all over them last night because Mary Ella was right sloppy with diapers sometimes. It was Sunday. What was Mrs. Forrester doing here on a Sunday? Couldn’t be good.
“Good morning, Ivy!” she said, like seeing me was the best thing that ever happened to her.
“It’s Sunday, Mrs. Forrester,” I said, thinking she might of got her days confused. I was happy to see her, though. Even Nonnie still laughed when we talked about doing the twisting dance in the kitchen and we loved the fan. We moved it into the bedroom and I never slept so good on a summer night before.
“That’s why I’m here,” she said. “You don’t work on the farm on Sunday, right? I thought I could take you and Mary Ella and Nonnie and Baby William on a little trip to the beach.”
I just stared at her. Had she lost her mind?
“The beach?” I shook out Nonnie’s raggedy old slip and hung it up. “What are you talking about?”
“I think y’all need a getaway,” she said. “Just for the day. Would you like that?”
“I ain’t never been,” I said.
“I know. That’s why I thought it might be fun. Do you have a bathing suit?”
“No, ma’am. When we go to the pond, we just wear shorts.”
“Well, let’s talk to your grandmother and Mary Ella and see if y’all can take time off from your household duties and have a relaxing day.”
I slipped a clothespin over one of Baby William’s dingy-looking diapers and started toward the house. “Mary Ella ain’t here right now,” I said. “Nonnie sent her to a church friend to get some of the cookies they give out after the service.” I was embarrassed to let Mrs. Forrester know how far Nonnie would go for sweets, sending Mary Ella two miles away on the bike just for a few cookies.
“When will she be back?”
“I don’t rightly know,” I said. You never did know with Mary Ella. She might of been doing one of her disappearing acts.
I looked up at the blue sky, a few puffy clouds right over my head. I didn’t know why Mrs. Forrester came up with this idea, but Lord, it was a beautiful day and I wanted to see the ocean. I didn’t think Nonnie would say yes, though. She had chores lined up for me and Mary Ella that would take us all day.
“Well, we’ll start with your grandmother, then.”
We found Nonnie in the kitchen, eating the biscuit I told her not to eat at breakfast. Smeared with jelly, of course. I wanted to rip it out of her hand, but knew better than to do that in front of somebody. I just gave her the eye and she gave it right back to me.
“Mrs. Forrester wants to take all of us to the beach,” I said. Mrs. Werkman would never do anything like that. Never.
“That’s the craziest thing I ever heard,” Nonnie said. “You supposed to be home with your own family on Sunday.”
“My husband’s playing golf today,” she said, “and I thought it would be nice to drive out to the beach, and since I knew the girls had never been, I’d invite you all to come along.”
“Sticky sand.” Nonnie said the same thing she did the other day, licking the jelly from her fingers and probably making her sugar go sky-high. “Ain’t been since I was a child, but I remember.”
“Well, then you must also remember how special it is,” Mrs. Forrester said. “Let’s all take a day off and go.”
“I got too much to do,” Nonnie said, “but you can take the girls and the baby.”
I squealed. What a surprise! “Thank you, Nonnie!” I said, giving her a hug, even though I knew why she was letting us go: She was going to eat the cookies and anything else she could find, all day long, starting as soon as we left the house. Nobody home to tell her she shouldn’t.
“Great,” Mrs. Forrester said. “Get some clothes you can swim in and whatever you need for William. Do you have any extra towels? I have some, but we could use a few more if you have them. I have suntan oil and an umbrella.” She looked around the room. “Where is William?”
“Where’s he at?” I asked Nonnie, and she shrugged.
“Baby William!” I hollered. I poked my head in the bedroom. “You want to see the ocean, Baby?” But he wasn’t there.
“Could he be outside?” Mrs. Forrester looked worried.
“That boy could be anywhere,” Nonnie said.
“He’s only two,” Mrs. Forrester said. “He really needs all of you to keep a more careful eye on him.” She was peeking behind the sofa like he might be hiding there. I was pretty sure where he was: under the porch, watching for Mary Ella to come home.
“I know where he is,” I said, hoping I was right so Mrs. Forrester wouldn’t think we wasn’t watching him right. I walked out the front door, hopped down the step and peeked underneath. Sure enough, there he was. “Come on outta there,” I said, grabbing him and yanking him out, but not before I pulled a lizard from his hand. I hoped he wasn’t going to stick that thing in his mouth. “We’re going to the beach.”
He let out a howl at how rough I was being with him. Mary Ella would of smacked me if she saw me pull him out that way, but I had to show Mrs. Forrester I could be tough with him. I knew she thought we wasn’t doing right by him. She didn’t understand you couldn’t keep an eye on a little boy on a farm any more than you could keep an eye on a dog or cat.
When we got back inside, Nonnie was already getting the towels and some clothes ready for us. She was fired up to get us gone so she could dig into the jar of jelly by the spoonful.
“Now we just got to wait for Mary Ella,” I said.
“We could drive to the church friend’s house,” Mrs. Forrester said. “Give her a ride back.”
“All right. Can you change Baby William and get some extra diapers for us while we’re gone?” I asked Nonnie.
Nonnie nodded. “Don’t let Mary Ella forget what I sent her for,” she warned. “That girl forgets her own name sometimes.”
* * *
We drove up Deaf Mule Road. Mary Ella’d been gone long enough she should be coming home by n
ow, but there wasn’t no sign of her yet. I spotted a truck coming toward us and could tell from a long ways away it was Eli driving it.
“Here comes Eli Jordan,” I said.
“He has a truck?” She sounded … suspicious? Like how could a colored boy have a truck. That made me disappointed with her. It was all about money with them social workers, even Mrs. Forrester, I guessed. You had a truck or a car—where’d you get the money for it? Did you take it out of your babies’ mouths?
“It’s Mr. Gardiner’s old truck,” I said. “He lets Eli use it for farmwork sometimes. He’s slowing down. Can you stop?”
Mrs. Forrester pressed on the brake real slow and we stopped right next to the truck. Devil and Avery were sitting in the bed and Avery stood up and waved. “Hey, Mrs. Forrester!” he shouted.
“Sit down, Avery,” she said. “It’s dangerous.”
Eli looked at Mrs. Forrester and then past her to me. “Where you going?” he asked.
“We’re looking for Mary Ella Hart,” Mrs. Forrester said, using Mary Ella’s last name like she was a stranger to Eli instead of a girl he knowed all his life. “She went on an errand for her grandmother.”
“You seen her?” I asked. “She’s on her bike.”
Eli didn’t answer right away. Then he called out his open window. “Mary Ella!”
Mary Ella’s head popped up from the bed of the truck and I knew she’d been hiding back there so no one would see her with colored boys. “We saw her on the bike,” Eli said. “Gave her a ride home.” He was staring at Mrs. Forrester like he was waiting for her to say he done something wrong. It was wrong. I didn’t want to think what Mary Ella might have been doing in the bed of the truck with Devil and Avery. I didn’t know my sister no more.
“Mary Ella, get out of that truck,” I said. “You know better. Nonnie’ll shoot Eli if she sees you riding with him.” I looked at Eli. “We’ll take her home,” I said.
He looked at me again. “Everything all right?” he asked.