Mrs. Lieutenant: A Sharon Gold Novel (19 page)

She nodded, not yet ready to say
anything.

"You'll have to read this one yourself."

"Why?"

He looked down at his hands as he pulled a
folded sheet of paper from his shirt pocket. "I'm embarrassed. I
wrote it for you after we went out Saturday night." He handed her
the paper. Under the title "Morning" she reads:

After waking from a dream

When the memory is sweet -

The smell of yellow jasmine,

The taste of scented oil –

Returning to it

Breaking away from the arms of light

And penetrating the cloudy screen

That keeps the dreams confined –

Cannot be done.

Only snatches

Only dips into the haze,

Glimpses for wishing

Her tears baptized the paper.

For one second she held out, held out against
a future that frightened her. Then she looked up at him and said,
“Will you be my date for the sorority formal?”

“Do I have to wear a tux?” he said.

“It’s a ‘uniform’ – not much different from
your ROTC uniform,” she said.

They both laughed, and he reached for her
hands.

Still sitting in the car following Donna’s
revelation about her first husband, Sharon was gripped with the
desire to drive over to Kim's, to tell her what Donna revealed, to
share the pain and shock. Just this once Sharon could make an
exception – she could share her fears and innermost feelings. Tracy
would understand.

Sharon wears the three-quarter-sleeve blue
spring coat they bought together, a coat now splattered with
droplets
–
tears, not rain. The rabbi’s graveside service
finished, the workers lower the four coffins into the
ground.

Sharon grips the shovel's handle, dumping the
dirt on the lid of Tracy's coffin. The dirt clumps thud onto the
wood. The thuds mask Sharon's whisper: "I promise, Tracy. No one
will ever replace you. You'll always be my best girlfriend."

Sharing with Kim wouldn't be replacing Tracy.
It would just be ...

Sharon fingered the steering wheel, still not
turning on the ignition.

Kim was an orphan. Jim was everything to her.
How could Sharon be so selfish? To give Kim even more to worry
about than she already had?

Sharon shook her head. She wouldn’t drive
over to Kim’s. It was for Donna to tell Kim and Wendy. With that
decision Sharon had finally turned on the ignition and driven home
from the vol indef meeting.

Now Sharon shakes her head at herself in the
bedroom mirror. That was two days ago. Unwilling to again
experience the emotions generated by Donna, Sharon still hasn’t
told Robert.

Sharon glances at her watch. She’s going to
be late to this meeting of the Jewish Wives’ Club. Quickly she
grabs the car keys off the dresser and heads out the door.

It doesn’t take her long to reach the housing
area and find the right house. The sign next to the door reads
“Captain Fred Weinstein.”

Sharon smooths the wrinkles in her skirt and
again checks her watch. Only a few minutes late. She rings the
doorbell.

A short, dark-haired woman wearing beige
slacks and a white sleeveless blouse exposing pale arms opens the
door. "I'm Janice Baum,” she says, gesturing Sharon to enter.
“Judy's inside getting refreshments."

The woman has a New York accent. Probably
Brooklyn.

Sharon steps into a small foyer. A wooden
coat rack holds yellow rain slickers in small sizes. Umbrellas
stick up from a gold-painted metal milk can perched on the polished
wood floor. The house smells of cookies and floor wax. Sharon
follows Janice Baum through an arch into a small living room. Above
the hum of the air conditioner Sharon can hear children's shouts
and laughter coming from somewhere nearby.

Three women sit on a sofa underneath a
picture window. A fourth woman – Judy Weinstein? – stands in front
of the sofa placing a tray of glasses on the coffee table. All four
women smile as Janice and Sharon enter the room.

Sharon notices that one woman, wearing a
rose-patterned shift over a bulging stomach, is quite pregnant. The
other two seated women wear pants with matching tops and the fourth
woman has on slim forest green pants and a white scooped-neck
blouse.

Sharon is overdressed. Apparently this
meeting of the Jewish Wives’ Club does not fall into the required
dress parameters of an official army officers’ wives’ meeting.

Sharon also notices that the living room
furniture appears not to be army issue. The sofa features a
blue-toned flame-stitch pattern. The armchairs in pale blue satin
have high backs shaped into what Sharon thinks of as Dumbo ears.
The navy-cloth director's chair seems out of place. It's probably
been pulled in from outdoors to provide extra seating. Extra
seating for her, the odd one out.

The standing woman, heralded by the
unmistakable scent of Shalimar, comes towards Sharon. "I'm Judy
Weinstein. So glad you could join our little group. Please sit
down." Judy waves Sharon to the director’s chair.

The others say their first names quickly. The
pregnant one is Nancy; the other two are Millie and Elaine.

"Where are you from?" Elaine asks. Her dark
brown hangs straight down from a center part and her eyes, set wide
apart, anchor a nose that tilts upwards.

"I'm from Chicago," Sharon says.

"South Side?" Nancy's auburn hair pulled back
in a pony tail emphasizes the puffiness of her face.

"North Side."

"I'm from the South Side,” Nancy says.
“Where's your husband from?"

"Philadelphia."

"Mine's from New York."

Nancy is the game show host, Sharon thinks,
in a game of 20 questions.

"Is he a doctor?" Millie asks.

A doctor? Her parents only wish.

"He's here for Armor Officers Basic before
going on to Ft. Holabird for military intelligence training."

"And then where?" Janice cuts in.

"We don't know. It could be ... anywhere."
Sharon looks around the room. The others don't meet her eyes.

"All our husbands are doctors, except
Janice's. He's a medical technician assigned to the hospital here,"
Nancy says.

Janice blushes. She says quickly, "Kenny was
in the Navy. But being on a ship for six months at a time was too
hard on the children. So he transferred to the army."

"Judy got us together in an informal group,"
Millie says. "She's the organizer among us." Millie has short black
curly hair and a wide freckled face.

"Please have some oatmeal cookies," Judy
offers. A tortoise shell plastic headband holds her medium-length
fine blond hair in place and her thin face matches an equally thin
body. Sharon wonders how many children Judy has and whether she has
always been this thin or whether running after children
accomplished this.

"Let's begin," Judy says, "before we're
interrupted by the kids."

Elaine says, "The first order of business is
to plan for the family picnic two weeks from Sunday. It's from 11
to 2." She turns to Sharon. "You and your husband are welcome." She
turns back to the rest of the women. "Is everyone able to
come?"

"My husband may be on call, but I'll be
there," Millie says.

"I'm two centimeters dilated already," Nancy
says, "so I'm not sure I'll be around."

What does two centimeters dilated mean?
Sharon doesn't want to ask.

Judy laughs. "With my first my mother came to
stay two weeks before the baby was due. Eight weeks later the baby
finally arrived. The doctor was off by a whole month, and then the
baby was two weeks late."

"I may have a Caesarean," Nancy says. "It's a
breech baby right now."

What's breech?

"Oh, no, Nancy. You'll be so sore
afterwards," Janice says. "I had a Caesarean with my second. Kenny
was at sea and a neighbor took care of my first son while I was in
the hospital. I really had it hard when I came home."

"My husband is getting me a nurse,” Nancy
says. “He asked around at the hospital and found someone who does
private duty."

"I'll have to keep it in mind in eight
months," Elaine says.

"You're pregnant!" Millie says. "That's
terrific! I was going to wait to tell all of you at the next
meeting – I am too."

Everyone except Sharon breaks out in a babble
of happy congratulations. She's the only one here who doesn't know
anything about pregnancy and childbirth. It's so unfair! These
women's husbands are all safely ensconced at Ft. Knox. It's okay to
be a doctor in the army, but a second lieutenant in military
intelligence possibly slated for a tour of Vietnam?

Tears moisten her eyelids and she flashes to
an earlier time when she also felt the odd-man out.

It’s the evening of the AEPhi formal at MSU
and Sharon wears her high school prom dress – a simple white cotton
brocade Lanz, junior size 7. Robert wears a blue tux jacket and tux
black pants rented from a store on Grand River Avenue. They’ve
arranged to double date with a sorority sister. Frieda and Larry
are pinned – he’s a ZBT, the best Jewish fraternity on campus.

“Robert,” Larry says as they walk their dates
into the Lansing hotel location of the formal, “you should come by
the house, join us in a TGIF beer night.”

“I usually study on Friday nights,” Robert
says. “With working 20 hours a week and my ROTC commitment, I don’t
have much time to study.”

“A Jewish boy in ROTC? You’ve got to be
kidding.”

To prevent Robert’s reply Sharon stumbles
against Larry. “I’m so sorry,” she says. “My ankle twisted.”

“Come on, man,” Larry continues to Robert.
“Why do you want to be in ROTC?”

“Patriotic duty. Someone has to defend our
country.”

Patriotic duty. How many times must she hear
those words?

At this moment Judy says “Sharon.”

Sharon yanks her attention back to the
moment. “Yes?”

"You don't have any children, do you?"

"We've only been married a few months."

"Newlyweds," Janice says. "I can dimly
remember those days."

Millie turns to Judy before Sharon can
respond. "How's your quilt coming? Are you finished yet?"

Judy reaches into a wicker basket on the
floor next to her chair. She holds up a quilt of crocheted pale
blue and darker blue squares. "I've just got the fringes to add and
I'm done."

"You work fast," Elaine says.

Judy laughs and turns to Sharon. "It's the
one thing I can do while watching my children that they can't
destroy."

"She has four children under the age of
five," Nancy says to Sharon. "I don't know how she does it. I'm
worried about taking care of one."

"I let them play in the backyard all day,”
Judy says. “That's why I get a lot of crocheting done."

Elaine flutters her hands in everyone's
direction. "Let's get back to the picnic plans. Who's going to
bring what?"

Sharon watches the women talk, their hands
moving to emphasize their points. She certainly doesn't fit in with
these women sitting here today the way she hoped she would, their
concerns and hers so totally different. All mothers or
mothers-to-be, they have husbands who work in a hospital, albeit an
army rather than a civilian one. They're barely in the army with
its emphasis on infantry, artillery, armor – war.

The central concern of Sharon's universe –
will Robert be sent to Vietnam? And the corollary, should he go vol
indef to put off Vietnam for one year? And secondarily, how does
she fit in as an officer's wife?

Sharon thinks about Kim and Wendy and Donna,
all facing the same concerns as she.

Can it be that Sharon is looking for friends
in all the wrong places?

**

That evening Peter, Paul and Mary's album
"Blowin' in the Wind" plays on Sharon's stereo reacquired today. As
she makes coffee for Robert and her brother Howard – just arrived
from Chicago, her tears splash onto the Faberware coffeepot as the
trio sings Bob Dylan's words to the title song:

How many deaths will it take till he knows

That too many people have died?

The answer my friend is blowin' in the wind

The answer is blowin' in the wind.

Maybe she shouldn't have asked her parents to
send her stereo with her brother. Some of her favorite songs too
closely mirror her current situation.

Robert and Howard sit on the couch talking
while she's preparing dinner. Howard took the train from U of I
Thursday night to Chicago to get their father’s car and her stuff.
Then today Howard drove straight through from Chicago. After dinner
he will drive up to Louisville to spend the night at their
grandparents and drive back to Chicago tomorrow to return the car.
Then he’ll take the train back to school from Chicago on
Sunday.

"Dinner's ready," she tells them now as she
shuts off the stereo.

"Roast beef. Nice going," Howard says as he
and Robert sit down at the table.

“Had to import it from Louisville.”

Sharon passes Howard the roast beef platter.
“It's just so great to see you. I haven't seen anyone with really
long sideburns since we left Chicago."

Howard laughs and lifts a forkful of roast
beef to his mouth. "They are pretty long, aren't they?"

"You want to see the post?" Robert asks.

"Hell, no. I'm not setting foot on any
military installation – ever, if I can help it."

Should she ask ... ask Howard if he will go
to Canada if he's drafted? She can't do it. She doesn't want to
know.

"It looks more like a resort in the Catskills
than anything else," Robert says.

Howard brushes his long hair out of his eyes.
"I'm still not interested."

"What will you do if you're drafted?" Robert
asks.

Sharon gasps.

Her brother looks at her. "I've decided not
to worry about the draft until I get my notice. Then I'll
worry."