“No, thank you. No, let me see what I can do first. Well, nice to see you, Pauline.”
As she walked away Miss Tuttle called out, “Tell Anna Lee to drop me a line when she has time.”
Dorothy worried all the way home. This was a problem she had never come up against before. Certainly not with her own two children. With Bobby the exact opposite was true. His teachers had a problem trying to get him to stop talking and concentrate on his paperwork, which was always messy and misspelled, if he managed not to lose it and turn it in at all. But right now she was concerned about Betty Raye. She hated for her not to do as well as she could be doing. Pauline seemed to think it was an emergency. Maybe Pauline was right; maybe Dorothy needed to say something today, before it was too late and she was lost forever.
That afternoon in the kitchen, when Betty Raye was busy mashing potatoes, she decided to broach the subject. “So, honey, how are you doing at school?”
“Fine.”
“Are you having any problems?”
“No, ma’am.”
“How are you doing making friends?”
“Fine.”
“I don’t know if you know this or not, but a good way to make friends is through extracurricular activities. I was the president of the Homemakers Club in high school and I really enjoyed that.”
Betty Raye smiled.
Dorothy continued on. “You know, I ran into Pauline Tuttle today and we were talking about you, and she, well, both of us were saying we thought that it might be a good idea if you were to join a club of some kind. We thought maybe you might want to think about joining the Drama Club. I know Anna Lee had lots of fun being in all the plays.” She spoke brightly, but at the mere mention of the words Drama Club Betty Raye actually turned pale right before her eyes. She turned to Dorothy with a stricken look on her face. “Oh, Mrs. Smith, I just couldn’t.”
Dorothy suddenly realized what a terrible idea this had been and immediately felt sorry for even bringing it up. She put her arm around Betty Raye. “No, of course you don’t. I’m so sorry. How stupid can I be. . . . you’ve been pushed up on stage all your life, haven’t you?”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Betty Raye, close to tears, “and I just hated it.”
“I know you did, I don’t know what I was thinking of. And you don’t ever have to do another thing you don’t want to.”
“Will she be mad?”
“Of course not. It was just a stupid suggestion. Don’t you worry about a thing. I’ll just tell Pauline that we don’t want to join any old Drama Club or anything else, right?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
After Dorothy had finished making the meatloaf and got it in the oven, she sat down at the table to string the green beans. She smiled at Betty Raye, who was busy rinsing out a bowl in the sink, and she thought to herself, Who cares if Pauline Tuttle doesn’t call on her in class? So what if she doesn’t set the world on fire? Not everybody has to be Mr. or Mrs. Personality. What difference does it make if she gets a B or a C instead of an A? She’s perfectly happy the way she is and she certainly is a big help in the kitchen, quiet and good-natured. She’ll probably make someone a wonderful wife. Betty Raye might not be a beauty like Anna Lee but she can already cook better than Anna Lee. For better or worse, men like a quiet girl who can cook.
Then she thought: A good thing Anna Lee is pretty, because she sure cannot cook. When Betty Raye sat down at the table, she smiled at her warmly and asked her favorite question. “Honey, if you could have one wish come true, what would you wish for?”
Betty Raye picked up a handful of string beans and thought about it and then answered. “A house.”
“A house?” Dorothy was surprised. “What kind of a house?”
“Oh, just a little one with maybe a little dog.”
“What about a husband? Don’t you want a nice husband to buy it for you?”
“No, ma’am. After I graduate I’m going to get a job and buy it for myself. I don’t think boys like me very much.”
Dorothy looked at her with a twinkle in her eye. “I know a certain somebody who works at the Trolley Car Diner who thinks you’re pretty wonderful. . . .”
Just then Bobby came mincing into the kitchen wearing a pair of red wax lips.
Dorothy looked at him. “Young man, why are you not in your room doing your homework like you’re supposed to be?”
Bobby minced right back out again.
But later, when Dorothy came down the hall to check on him, she found him hanging by his fingers from the doorframe like a bat. She said, “Bobby, do you want to spend the rest of your life in the sixth grade? Get in there and get to work.” Bobby dropped back down to the floor and went to his desk. His mother had made her point.
The next Friday Betty Raye came home from school looking somehow pleased. She handed Dorothy a small, yellow membership card that said BETTY RAYE OATMAN, ELMWOOD SPRINGS HIGH SCHOOL LIBRARY CLUB.
“Well, good for you! I’m so proud of you I don’t know what to do!” She knew this had not been easy for Betty Raye. “This calls for a celebration.” Dorothy got up and walked through the house, calling out, “Mother Smith, Bobby, get your coats on. We are all going up to the drugstore for sundaes!” Within five minutes all were seated on stools at the soda fountain ordering hot fudge sundaes, except Bobby, ever the opportunist, who ordered a double banana split.
Turkey Time
Ever since Beatrice had left town to join the Oatman family, the two Goodnight twin sisters, Bess and Ada, had stepped in to help Dorothy. On special occasions they would come over and sing on the show and today was such an occasion.
Right before she went on the air, Dorothy looked out the window and checked for her daily weather report and was pleased. “Good morning, everybody. It’s another pretty fall day over here in Elmwood Springs and I hope you are having the same. I know this is a busy time, everyone getting ready for Thanksgiving and the holidays, and we’re so glad you were able to find a few minutes to spend with us. I don’t know about you, but I for one will be glad when this week is over. Bobby is about to drive us all crazy trying to memorize the poem ‘The Song of Hiawatha’ by Friday. If I hear ‘By the shore of Gitche Gumee, by the shining Big-Sea-Water’ one more time I am going to scream. Poor Betty Raye has been helping him and that girl must have the patience of Job. So far everyone in the house knows it by heart except Bobby.
“Well, tomorrow is November the fourth, the big day when we are all going to the polls to vote.” Mother Smith played the opening of “You’re a Grand Old Flag.” “That’s right, Mother, democracy in action. We got a call this morning from Ida Jenkins, who is head of the local women’s political caucus, and Ida says to remind all you ladies out there to be sure to get out and vote, don’t just leave it up to the men. And Mother Smith agrees—don’t forget, our own Mother Smith was a suffragette and fought for the vote for us, and we are mighty proud of her, too. And later on in the program Ada and Bess Goodnight have promised to drop by and sing ‘Bongo Bongo Bongo, I Don’t Want to Leave the Congo’ for us . . . although I don’t know what that has to do with Election Day. . . . I wonder if this is a mistake. . . . No? Mother Smith says that’s what they are singing.” Dorothy picked up a piece of paper. “And let’s see. Oh . . . and I have an announcement from the chamber of commerce. They have a request to change the name of the Miss Turkey Contest to the Miss Thanksgiving Contest, so if you agree go down to the drugstore tomorrow and vote on that as well. Harry Johnston at the A and P says to tell all you gals he’s got a special Thanksgiving offer on Del Monte early garden peas—buy one can, get one—and he says he’s got lots of turkeys already dressed and ready for roasting. . . .
“Now, let me ask you this: Have you ever been shocked when changing your fuses? If so, here’s something that you need to get yourself right away. It is safe and as easy as changing a lightbulb. Use Royal Crystal fuses with the shockproof glass top. Ask for Royal Crystal fuses and also Royal cord sets and Christmas lights. Tho
se are available down at Warren’s Hardware. Speaking of the Warrens, yesterday Mother and I paid a visit to our little newlywed Norma Warren, who gave us a tour of her kitchen. She has a brand-new Formica dinette set and you never saw anything so bright and cheery in your life. She said they come in all colors, yellow, aqua, or green, but Norma’s set is cherry red.” Mother Smith ran through “Life Is Just a Bowl of Cherries.” “That’s right, she says it’s so easy to keep clean, just give it a swipe with a wet cloth. Everyone says this is the furniture of the future and I believe them! Once Norma gets her new red-and-white linoleum down, her kitchen is going to be the showplace of the Midwest!”
Don’t Sit Down!
MACKY AND NORMA had been married for only a little under four months but Norma was thoroughly enjoying her new role as wife and homemaker. She was so pleased with the way their little house was coming along, particularly her new kitchen, which she kept as spotless and polished as Macky kept their new Nash Rambler. Their first Christmas as a married couple was coming up in a few weeks and Norma made a momentous decision. After talking it over with Macky, she called her mother with the exciting news.
“Hello,” Ida said.
“Mother, guess what? This year I want everybody to come to our house for Christmas dinner!”
“Who’s everybody?”
“You, Daddy . . . the Warrens, Aunt Gerta, Uncle Lodor, Aunt Elner, and Uncle Will. The whole family, won’t that be fun?”
Ida weighed her words carefully. “That’s very sweet of you, dear, but I don’t think you have thought this through.”
“Yes, I have.”
“Norma, how are you going to serve dinner for that many people? You don’t have a buffet table.”
“Easy, it doesn’t have to be all that formal. I’ll just put everything out on the counter in the kitchen and everybody can get their plates and come in and serve themselves sort of casual like. Macky said he could set up card tables in the living room and we can throw sheets over them.”
There were not enough words in the English language to describe just how much Ida Jenkins did not want to eat a meal off a card table covered with a sheet but she sensed how much it meant to Norma. She held on to the telephone table for support and said, “Fine dear, if that’s what you want to do, I’m sure it will be lovely.”
After everybody Norma had invited to Christmas dinner said they would come, it suddenly occurred to her that she had never cooked for more than two people. Cooking for ten might not be as easy as it sounded and she wanted it to be perfect. She called Neighbor Dorothy, who then helped her plan her menu, right down to the last morsel. To make sure there would be no mistakes, she wrote out a list of exactly what time she was to put things in the oven, exactly what time they were to come out, when to start the potatoes, how long to cook the roast beef, how many minutes to cook the gravy, and when to heat up the four cans of English peas and when to warm the rolls.
Norma spent almost the entire next week in the kitchen, rehearsing everything she was to do. One day she spent making sure all her timers worked, with everything in the right place, ready to go. She had decided to empty the peas into a covered dish on Christmas Eve and throw the cans away. It was cheating, she knew, but she also knew what her mother would say if she by any chance saw the cans. She had heard it a hundred times. “Norma, only hoboes and derelicts eat out of a can.” Macky came in and watched her setting timers, walking back and forth from the oven to the counter to the refrigerator with her list, pretending to carry things and talking to herself. She looked so intense he felt sorry for her and asked, “Can I do anything to help?”
She looked at him. “Yes—keep everybody out of the kitchen, especially Mother. I’m going to be nervous enough as it is without having her in here staring at me and getting in my way. Just keep them entertained until I come out and say, ‘Dinner’s ready, come and get it.’ ”
“Dinner’s ready, come and get it?”
“I might not say those exact words, I may say ‘Time to eat’ or something like that but when I do, have everybody get up, get their plate off the table, and come on in—but not before that.”
“O.K.”
“Just pray I don’t burn anything or drop something.”
“What if you do? It’s not the end of the world, it’s just a dinner.”
“Just a dinner?” She looked at him in utter disbelief. “Just a dinner? Is that what you think after I have gone to all this trouble so we can have our first Christmas in our own home?”
“No, that’s not what I mean. I mean, so what if you do mess it up, nobody cares.”
“Nobody cares?”
Macky realized he was digging a hole for himself and tried to get out. “But you won’t mess it up. Everything will turn out just great.”
“Well, that’s easy for you to say. You try cooking for ten people.”
Saturday, a full week before the dinner was to take place, Norma cleaned the house from top to bottom. When Macky came home that afternoon she met him at the door with a scrub brush. “Macky, do not sit on the sofa or the chairs, or walk on the rug, and try not to use the bathroom.”
Still a newlywed, Macky was learning the hard way that when Norma was nervous about something, it was best not to try and reason with her.
Christmas Window
DECEMBER TWENTY-FIRST was an especially busy day. Dorothy baked fifteen dozen gingerbread men to have at the house for the holidays, Bobby was pulling down all the Christmas decorations from the closets, and Betty Raye and Mother Smith were making gumdrop trees out of toothpicks for the dining room table. At about five-thirty Doc walked in the door carrying a huge peppermint candy cane, his cheeks a little flushed from the cold and the two paper cups of pretty potent eggnog he had just drunk. Before coming home he had joined Ed and the gang down at the barbershop for a little pre-Christmas cheer, as he did every year, and he was in every sense in high spirits. In a few days Anna Lee would be home for Christmas and tonight they were going downtown to pick out their tree.
He went in the kitchen and handed Dorothy the candy cane, saying, “Ho, ho, ho.” She laughed and said, “Ho, ho, ho, yourself.” After dinner Dorothy made Bobby put on his leather cap with the flaps and the whole family, including Betty Raye and Jimmy, walked down to the vacant lot behind the church. The Civitan Club had run a string of white lights around the area and was holding its annual Christmas tree sale. The cold air was filled with the scent of pine, and the old familiar smells of Christmas put Doc in even higher spirits. Gene Autry was singing “Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer” on the small radio Merle had on in the shed as Doc walked around looking for just the right tree. He stopped and picked up several and shook them and continued walking up and down the aisles. “What do you think, Dorothy, should we get a big one or a little one?”
Bobby said, “Let’s get a big one.”
“What do you think, Mother Smith?” asked Dorothy.
“Oh, I think since Anna Lee is coming home it would be nice to have a big one this year.”
They all continued to walk through the lot looking at all the different kinds of trees. Some were flocked in odd colors this year. At one point Doc heard Mother Smith talking to Dorothy over in the next row. “Why would anyone in their right mind want a pink Christmas tree?”
“Oh, I suppose it’s modern. Maybe some people want a change,” said Dorothy.
“Well, there’s modern and there’s ugly, if you ask me.”
The search went on, as Doc backed up and scrutinized each tree that might be a likely candidate. Nothing had caught his eye so far, until he spied a large blue spruce still wrapped in rope lying on the ground. He pulled it up and was examining it when Fred Haygood, one of the Civitans, asked Doc if he would like him to cut it loose for him. Doc said he would and after it was cut Fred shook it out and banged it up and down so Doc could get a better look at it. The tree was about eight feet tall and full and had a good shape. Doc said, “This is a nice one, don’t you think?”
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sp; Fred offered his expert, considered opinion. “Yep, this would make you a pretty tree.”
“What do you think, Jimmy?” Doc asked.
Jimmy nodded. “It looks good to me.”
“How much?” asked Doc.
Fred called out to the shed, “Merle, how much for this blue spruce just came in?”
Merle called back, “Let him have it for a dollar fifty.”
One more opinion poll and they all agreed and Doc said, “Have the boys bring it over and put it on the porch; we can get it in from there.” They then headed down the street to Morgan Brothers department store to look at the Christmas display in the window. As they went past the barbershop a few of the men, including James Whooten, Tot’s husband, were still inside and waved at them. While they walked they could hear music playing from the speakers outside the stores. Perry Como was singing “It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas” and it was. MERRY CHRISTMAS was written across all the windows in red, white, and green. To Bobby it seemed that downtown had changed magically overnight. The two large glass bottles filled with red and blue colored water that had always been in the drugstore window before suddenly looked like two huge lighted Christmas balls. Tonight even the cement in front of the theater seemed to sparkle like tiny chips of silver tinsel. When they got down to the department store, there was already a crowd of people and children standing there enjoying the “Winter Wonderland” display, amazed by the hundreds of little mechanical figures all moving at the same time. Elves and Mr. and Mrs. Santa Claus, trains full of toys running up and down a white mountain and in and out of tunnels. Skiers in ski lifts moving up to the top of the mountain and skiing back down again. Reindeer with their heads bobbing, horses and buggies and tiny cars moved through the miniature village. Dogs wagging their tails, little figures of men, women, and children skating and twirling across a pond made out of a large round mirror surrounded by glittering snow and miniature green trees. There was an entire world going on inside the window. Bobby would have stayed there for hours with his face pressed to it if they had let him.