AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Well. She wasn’t sure he’d lost that one yet. Better to wait and see.
“Time got away from me, that’s all.”
The Domestic Helpertaught that whenever a husband said “That’s all,” it was almost certainly not all.
“The least you could have done was let me know, Russ.” He’d always liked it when she called him that, but now there was no smile on his face, flecked with a hint of whiskers.
“Look, I tried to call, but you didn’t answer.”
It might be true. Shehadthought she’d heard the telephone while she was tending the flower boxes, pruning the dead annuals to get ready for spring. “I suppose you’ve already eaten.”
He nodded. “Beale wanted to go out to Sherman’s. They’ve got dollar shrimp on Wednesdays. Couldn’t turn him down, since he was the driver.”
“That’s all?” Despite herself, she’d half expected a story of some important report he’d needed to file or a meeting with the bank president, who, according to Russell, had been hinting at a promotion for weeks now.
“What, do I need to beg for leave to have dinner with a friend?”
Maybe she should let it go. After all, he’d seemed happier than usual, getting out of the car with Herb. She hadn’t heard him laugh since he got his 4-F classification.
But even as she thought it, she heard words slip out from her mouth, as if by habit. “No friend should come before your spouse.”
Russell’s eyes narrowed. “How would you know? You have no friends, Avis. Just your library job, nothing to do in the evenings except wait around for me.”
“I am yourwife, Russell Montgomery.” All traces of longsuffering patience were gone, and there was no getting them back. “I know you’d rather be on a troop ship with Anthony, traveling the world, thousands of miles away from me. This isn’t the life you dreamed of, but it’s the one you have.”
She’d gone too far, bringing up the incident with the recruitment office. That same old darkness appeared in his eyes. “You don’t know anything about my dreams.”
“I would if you’d tell me.”
“It’s not as if I don’t try!”
Crying made a woman’s face blotchy and, according to an advice column inWoman’s Day, was considered theatrical and manipulative.
“I would prefer,” she said, fighting to keep a tremble out of her voice, “if you went away.”
Russell threw his hands up in frustration. “First you nag at me for not being home, then you tell me to scram. Which is it?”
“Not out of the house, just ... away from me.”
After a pause, she heard his footsteps creaking away as she turned to dismantle the table setting.
Somehow, she’d done it wrong. Again. They made it seem easy to please your husband in books and magazines, full of images of demurely smiling women in sparkling homes.
Well. Even after a long day of work, she’d managed to clean the kitchen, mash the potatoes, put on her favorite dress—the floral one with the ruching around the neckline. And Russell hadn’t even noticed.
She missed the old Russell, the one before the 4-F label, who would have lightened the mood by taking a bite of cold meatloaf and declaring it not so bad after all, who never raised his voice or stayed out late, or...
Riiing!
The carefully balanced stack of china nearly clattered to the floor as she swiveled to face the telephone on the hallway’s end table.
Riiing!
Avis abandoned the table settings on the counter and stormed over. If it was one of Russell’s buddies asking him to come smoke or play billiards or ... whatever it was men did on evenings when they wanted to escape their wives, why, she’d...
“Good evening, Avis. It’s Louise Cavendish.”
“Oh. Hello.” It probably sounded too surprised to be polite, but how long had it been since Miss Cavendish had called her at home? “Is this about hiring an assistant?”
