Mrs. Lieutenant: A Sharon Gold Novel (9 page)

Sharon indicates the Japanese fans decorating
one wall. "He must have done at least one tour in the Orient,"
Sharon whispers to Kim. There are also Hummel figurines from
Germany lining the glass shelves of a cherry wood cabinet. Flowery
perfumes and the scent of spring flowers whiff towards them
accompanied by waves of chatter.

Sharon pictures herself back in the first
round of sorority rush at MSU, entering house after house filled
with strangers whose mandate is to look her over. The strangers
must judge whether she is the right caliber for their
"organization" while simultaneously she must decide whether she is
interested in "joining." Only here at Ft. Knox she is a part of
this group whether she wants to be – and still subject to
inspection.

Another woman in her late twenties, this one
wearing a purple linen suit, approaches them, glancing at their AOB
nametags. "Welcome, Mrs. Gold and Mrs. Benton. I'm Mrs. McDermott.
Let me introduce you to Mrs. Brisby." She leads Sharon and Kim
towards a gray-haired woman in a pink summer knit suit.

"Mrs. Brisby, I'd like to introduce Mrs. Gold
and Mrs. Benton from the new AOB class."

Mrs. Brisby smiles. "Good afternoon, ladies.
Welcome to Ft. Knox. I hope your stay here is pleasant."

Mrs. Brisby's voice matches her appearance –
gracious and authoritative. Sharon imagines Mrs. Brisby herself
commanding a battalion of tanks, ordering them to fire on the
enemy.

"Thank you," Sharon says as Mrs. McDermott
sweeps her and Kim towards the refreshment table, their moment of
official greeting by the wife of the post commanding general
over.

"Please help yourselves, ladies," Mrs.
McDermott says. "The formal part of our program will start
shortly." Then she leaves them, scurrying to new women entering the
room.

Sharon and Kim survey the refreshments
displayed on a rectangular linen-draped table. "The cookies look
good," Kim says. “I think we take off our gloves to eat,” Sharon
says.

After removing their gloves and placing their
cookie selection on china plates, they walk over to an unoccupied
loveseat.

A young black woman sits on a wing-backed
chair facing the loveseat. Sharon smiles at her and the woman
smiles back. Even without looking at her nametag Sharon can tell
the woman is the wife of an AOB class member – the woman's stiff
posture telegraphs her uncertainty in this setting.

"I'm Sharon Gold and this is Kim Benton,”
Sharon says to her. “Is this your first time at one of these
things?"

The woman smiles. "Yes, we just arrived a few
days ago." Her voice is soft. She sounds Southern, like Kim.

The woman shifts her coffee cup from her
right hand to her left, as if in preparation for shaking hands. Yet
she doesn't extend her right hand. "I'm Wendy Johnson."

About to stick out her own hand, Sharon
glances at Kim. What if Kim makes a scene about not shaking a black
person's hand? Better not to create the situation.

"Your husband is in the new AOB class with
our husbands," Sharon says.

"Where are you all from?" Wendy asks.

Kim swings her head around. Is it the use of
the Southern phrase "you all" that has caught her attention?

"I'm from Chicago," Sharon says, pointing to
the "Illinois" on her nametag.

Now it is Kim's turn. Nothing. Then, speaking
to her hands clasped in her lap, Kim says, "I'm from a small town
in North Carolina."

"North Carolina?" Wendy says. "I'm from South
Carolina."

At the end of the living room furthest from
the front door Mrs. McDermott raises a hand. "Ladies, may I have
your attention?" she says. The room silences.

"Welcome, ladies. We're so happy to have a
new Armor Officers Basic class here at Ft. Knox." Her smile travels
the room.

"I promise you that you will look back upon
your stay at Ft. Knox with fondness. The post has a great deal to
offer, including the Officers Club, several swimming pools opening
in a few weeks, a large PX and a well-stocked commissary.

"While here you will also have the
opportunity to learn what is expected of you as the wife of an
officer in the U.S. Army today. There are some rules and
regulations that, once learned, make life easier for all of us. I
recommend that you all buy the booklet at the PX entitled ‘Mrs.
Lieutenant’ by Mary Preston Gross and study it carefully. It is an
invaluable guide for an officer's wife."

Sharon glances around the room. Some of the
older women must have heard this speech a thousand times. How many
times will she have to hear it in the next two years?

"... and to help you prepare for your time as
an officer's wife – whether it be only for a few years or as a
career – we have planned several activities during your stay
here.”

Mrs. McDermott pauses as if to ensure that
everyone is fully listening to her words.

"The final function for the wives will be an
AOB graduation luncheon. It's going to have a Fourth of July theme
and, as part of your training, you will be in charge of it. There
will be four committees – refreshments, decorations, invitations,
and entertainment. We need volunteers first to chair the
committees, then each chair will choose her own committee."

Three AOB wives volunteer to chair the
refreshments, decorations and invitations committees.

"Now for the entertainment committee," Mrs.
McDermott says. "In past classes we have had a fashion show or an
etiquette lesson or something similar. Who would like to be
chair?"

Sharon's hand shoots up. Forget a boring
fashion show or etiquette lesson! She wants to do something
original, something creative, something that will show these
people.

"Thank you, Mrs. Gold."

Now Mrs. McDermott smiles at everyone in the
room. "This is the conclusion of the program for today. Please help
yourselves to more refreshments. You are welcome to stay for a half
hour longer. We look forward to seeing you all again at the next
function."

Sharon turns to Kim. "We should be on a
committee together. After all, we're sharing a car."

Kim nods.

Sharon hopes it isn't an urge to irritate Kim
that makes her lean over and say to Wendy Johnson, "And you'll join
us too." She doesn't even ask it as a question.

"Oh, I ...," Wendy says, "I'm not sure I
..."

"Of course you will," Sharon says.

Mrs. McDermott hasn't mentioned the number of
women on each committee. Sharon thinks one more would be good. A
few feet away a tall young woman with olive skin and dark hair
stands alone.

Sharon approaches the woman, checking her
nametag.

"I'm Sharon Gold. I see you're one of the
wives of the AOB class."

The woman smiles and offers her hand. "Donna
Lautenberg."

"Would you like to join the entertainment
committee? We could use another person."

Donna laughs. "I'd like that."

"Then come meet the others so we can set a
time to get together."

As Sharon introduces everyone, she realizes
that Donna might be of Italian or Spanish origin. How ironic! A
committee just like all those old World War II movies where the
squad of men consists of one Jew, one Italian, one black, one WASP.
No, wait, no black because blacks weren’t allowed to fight in
integrated units until the Korean War. Still, the entertainment
committee smacks of being carefully chosen. Will anyone believe
this wasn't planned?

**

"What did you think?" Sharon asks Kim as they
drive away from the commander's home.

"It was nice seeing all those women dressed
up."

Sharon glances at Kim, aware that it’s also
nice to have someone with whom to go places. Not to have to sit
alone as both Wendy and Donna had to do when they got to the
coffee. Perhaps Robert has done Sharon a big favor.

The road curves, and as they come around the
bend the PX stands on their right. Kim turns the car into the PX
parking lot. "Let's stop right now and buy that book they told us
to get,” Kim says. “Maybe we can find out exactly what to wear to
what."

Sharon follows Kim out of the car and up the
steps.

This time, thank heavens, no young black
soldier holds the door open for them. Having Wendy Johnson join
their entertainment committee has probably been enough shock for
Kim for one day.

"Where can we find the booklet ‘Mrs.
Lieutenant’?" Sharon asks a clerk.

"Right over there," the clerk says, gesturing
to a bookrack along one wall.

A tall woman stands facing the indicated
bookrack. As Sharon and Kim approach, she turns around. It’s
Donna.

"Looks like you're buying the same thing we
are," Sharon says.

Donna laughs and holds up “Mrs. Lieutenant”
as Sharon and Kim each take a copy. Then Donna says, "I grew up an
army brat, the daughter of an enlisted man. I've spent practically
all my life on army posts. This is the first time I've been part of
an officer's family. It's very different."

"Where's your own family originally from?"
Sharon asks.

"Puerto Rico. The army was a chance to get
off the island, a chance for a better life, and my parents took
it."

“You have no accent,” Sharon says as Kim
asks, "What's Puerto Rico got to do with the United States? Why was
your father in the American army?"

Donna looks at Kim. "Puerto Rico is a
commonwealth of the United States. All men in Puerto Rico over the
age of 18 are subject to the draft the same as in the U.S. My
father was too young to be drafted in World War II. He joined the
army as soon as he turned 18."

Do Southerners classify Puerto Ricans the
same as blacks? Sharon doesn’t want to find out just now. "Don't we
have to go?" Sharon asks Kim.

"I do too," Donna says. "I'll see you both at
the meeting tomorrow."

"Her English is so good," Kim whispers as
Donna walks away.

"Maybe they didn't even speak Spanish at home
when she was growing up," Sharon says. "Becoming 'real' Americans
may have been the most important thing."

Oh for heaven sakes! How stupid can Sharon
be! She said the word "real" with quotes in her mind, but Kim's not
a mind reader. Has Sharon just reinforced another of Kim's
stereotypes?

**

"He won't stay long," Robert says to Sharon
that evening as he gets up from the couch to answer the
doorbell.

Robert has already explained why he invited
Len Tottenham. A Michigan farm boy, Len had been a college
suitemate of Robert’s before Len dropped out of school and
enlisted. "I thought you didn't like him," Sharon said when Robert
first told her that Len was coming over. In response Robert said,
"This gives him a chance to get away from the barracks, and we can
afford to be gracious."

In preparation for his visit Sharon had
gotten out her crewelwork canvas – stretched over an embroidery
frame – with its unfinished section of French knot flowers. "I'll
work on my needlework while you entertain him."

"Hi, buddy," Robert says to a gangly man in
rumpled fatigues with an enlisted rank – which one Sharon can't
tell – sewn on both sleeves. "Come on in."

Len's shaved hair barely hints at its
blondness above dark eyes and a prominent nose. He shakes Robert's
extended hand and nods in Sharon's direction.

"Would you like something to drink?" Robert
asks, motioning to the armchair.

"Beer, if ya have any."

Robert shakes his head. "How about some
Coke?"

"It'll have to do."

He could have said thank you, that Coke would
be just fine.

Sharon and Len sit without speaking until
Robert returns with the Coke.

"Hey, Rob, couple of Jew boys in my
unit."

She pricks her finger with the needle. Blood
droplets sprinkle the white canvas.

"Now, Len, I taught you better than that,"
Robert says.

"Yeah, yeah."

Sharon has heard some of the things Len said
about Jews when he and Robert first were suitemates. Then Robert
"educated" him. In her book Len's attitude certainly would not have
won him an invitation to their apartment.

"So what's going on?" Robert asks. "Thinking
of making the army a career?"

Len shrugs. "What else I got to do,
especially after getting my insides all busted up over in Nam."

Robert has already warned her not to mention
Vietnam. As if she doesn't know not to.

Now Robert says, "That 20 year or 30 year
pension sounds pretty good. There are a lot worse things."

Len's eyes darken and his mouth pulls down.
Is he thinking about men he saw die in Vietnam?

Then his face relaxes. "Yeah."

"Have you heard from any of the other MSU
guys?" Robert asks.

"Ol' Pete. Got himself some great big deer on
a hunting trip..."

Sharon tunes Len out and leans over the
crewelwork, wrapping the burnt orange thread into petite French
knots. When she finishes this still life she'll have it framed in
dark wood. Some day the picture will hang on the wall of a dining
room furnished with a polished cherry wood table large enough for
12 and matching chairs upholstered in dark green brocade.

A half hour later Robert stands at the door
shaking Len's hand. "Thanks for coming by," Robert says.

Sharon rises to be polite. The embroidery
frame catches on her short skirt, pulling it up to her waist.

She grabs at her skirt as Len's eyes sweep up
her thighs to her exposed undies-clad crotch.

"See ya around," he says, his eyes on her
body.

She hopes
not.

“
In military circles it is wrong to be
‘fashionably late.’”
Mrs. Lieutenant
booklet

Sharon sets the plate of chocolate chip
cookies baked this morning down on the Formica-topped coffee table.
The oven has heated up the small apartment, and the air conditioner
struggles unsuccessfully to cool the temperature. Yet she doesn't
want to serve store-bought cookies – "home-baked is more
hospitable" her mother always says.