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“Then perhaps,” Louise said, “you should consider never speaking slander about a good and capable woman when she isnotpresent either.”
She left them standing there agape without response, her business done. It wasn’t her they needed to apologize to, after all. As soon as she turned her back, they’d probably start whispering about how tirades like that were why Louise had remained single all these years.
Or maybe, just maybe, they’d think twice before gossiping again.
She took a seat in the third row, close enough to hear clearly, far enough away to be polite, and took out her knitting from her bag. No sense in wasting time when one could be productive. Winter was approaching, and the soldiers in Europe would need mittens.
A chuckle beside her made her turn to see Ginny plopping down on the bench uncomfortably close to her, the legs of her tan boating pants set apart in an unladylike fashion. “Golly, Louise, you sure told those old biddies.”
It was on Louise’s mind to mention that eavesdropping was generally frowned upon in polite society, but she supposedshe’d been loud enough that the girl couldn’t help overhearing. “Someone needed to.”
Louise looked over to where the Buckwolds had intercepted Freddy, the younger of the two leaning flirtatiously toward him. “In any case, we should feel sorry for them if the only thing they have to talk about is other people’s lives.”
Ginny nodded. “Sure. At the book club, we’ve got fictional people’s lives to talk about instead.”
Louise blinked, but it didn’t seem like the girl was mocking. Her blue eyes seemed thoughtful. “I ... never thought about it that way.”
But wasn’t it true? Certainly, Louise had been kept up late reading the Christie novel to find the answer to the murder, but equally fascinating had been Poirot’s observations on human nature and what caused people to love and lie and betray.Pygmalion, with the club’s discussion on how charity can be offered in a way that takes away a person’s dignity, had made her wonder if perhaps she was approaching the daycare center in an unhelpful manner, just as Frederick had suggested.
Father had said something like that several times, to the point where Louise could still remember his words.“That’s what most don’t understand,”he’d said, gesturing at her and her brother.“Fictional characters are often more real than the flesh and blood people around us—in the ways that matter, that is.”
“What do they know about our Avis, anyway?” Ginny went on, bringing Louise’s mind back to the present.
“I’m sure Avis would be more than capable of standing up for herself were she present. But since she’s not, it’s up to the Blackout Book Club to do so for her.”
Ginny gave her a long, squinting look, then grinned. “You know, you’re not so bad after all, Louise Cavendish.” She tipped a cardboard carton Louise’s way. “Peanut?”
Even though she didn’t care for the messy treat, Louise tookthree of the shells, still warm to the touch from the cart by the fire truck.
It was an odd thing. She’d graduated from nursing school with top marks, been named chair of innumerable committees, and received letters of commendation for all manner of charity work, and yet those few words from Ginny felt as if they might be worth more than any of them.
She sat up a little straighter, a faint smile on her face as the program began, and popped a peanut into her mouth. Not so bad, indeed.
twenty-four
GINNY
JULY 18
On the positive side, Freddy looked good up on the bunting-draped platform, his military dress uniform all sharply ironed angles, his dark hair pomaded to a shine.
Trouble was, he sounded downright awful.
Poor fellow.Probably, if you put ol’ Freddy in the cockpit of a plane before he lost his eye, he’d be as calm and sure as a sunrise. But here, blithering on about the care and keeping of rutabagas, he stammered like a schoolboy unprepared to be called on in class. It was all Ginny could do to keep a pleasant smile on her face, listening as pauses dangled from every other phrase.
The rest of the lecture guests, mostly housewives, politely listened with the stiff New England posture you learned by being herded into church pews from the time you were red and wrinkly. Ginny settled back on her bench and tried to do the same.
“And broccoli and cauliflower won’t mature until ... round about September.”
Interesting. He wasn’t glancing around, his eyes looking for a place to land. He was glancing to the side, where Gio sat in the front row.
Probably wanting to see a friendly face. Although that wasn’tmuch good, since it looked like Gio had brought some schoolwork, running a pencil along a notebook’s page, paying poor stuttering Freddy no attention at all.
No, that wasn’t right. Watching the boy more closely, Ginny could see that he looked up occasionally, every time Freddy’s pause lapsed into seconds.
Was he ... mouthing something?
She squinted, not caring now that she was staring.
