A Woman's Place

by Lynn Austin

  She didn’t share their confidence. She couldn’t believe that she’d been such a poor judge of character. “I never knew Russ was that way,” she murmured.

  “Earl Seaborn is ten times the man that he is,” Helen said. “And Earl had so much confidence in you that he made you a crew chief.”

  Jean looked up and saw Earl through the kitchen window, talking with her father outside. She knew Helen was right. Earl had been with her through all of this, a rock she had leaned upon. He had protected her from two racists with baseball bats. Yet she had been so enamored with Russ’s good looks that Earl’s handicaps had repelled her.

  She was about to admit to everyone that she had been a complete fool, when Rosa said, “And you know what else, Jean? Mr. Seaborn didn’t even know how to dance. He asked me to teach him how, just for you.”

  The knowledge that Earl would do that for her reduced Jean to tears.

  CHAPTER 37

  * Rosa *

  Rosa thought that the ride home from Indiana would never end. At least the fresh country air had tuckered out the children. Patty’s boys and little Joey fell asleep in the backseat of the car. Rosa closed her eyes and pretended to sleep, too, but the funeral weighed her heart down like a block of ice, disturbing her rest. She had never been to a funeral before, and it had affected her deeply. She couldn’t help picturing herself all dressed in black, sitting through Dirk’s memorial service, weeping and mourning for him the way Jean and her family had mourned.

  Johnny’s plane had crashed into the sea, and Jean would never see her brother again. And Helen never got to see Jimmy one last time, either, or the place where he was buried over in France. Rosa thought it would be the worst punishment of all if she never saw Dirk again. What if she couldn’t even have his body to bury or a grave she could visit and show to their son?

  She was exhausted by the time she got home. Joseph had awakened from his nap feeling cranky. His body felt warm.

  “He’s a little feverish,” Tena told her. “He’s probably teething.” Tena felt the baby’s gums with her finger and showed Rosa a budding tooth that was causing his distress. “If you’ve ever had a toothache, then you know how he feels.”

  Rosa couldn’t cope. Why did the baby have to be sick on top of everything else? After going to Johnny’s funeral, her worry over Dirk had grown to unmanageable proportions, and she didn’t know how much longer she could stand the fear and uncertainty. The only way she knew to escape her anxieties was to drown them in a bottle of booze.

  “I’m going to take Joey for a walk,” she told Tena as she hauled out the baby carriage. “He always likes that. Maybe he’ll go to sleep.”

  “You’re going now? At night? In the dark?”

  “We’ll be fine.”

  Rosa grabbed the largest purse she could find to hide the vodka bottle she planned to buy and hurried outside. When she passed the Hoot Owl a few blocks away and remembered how she used to go drinking every weekend when she’d first arrived in town, she nearly turned the baby carriage around and went home. She had wanted to change so badly, to be a good wife, a good mother. But the longing to forget her sorrow was just too great to resist.

  She felt even worse when she reached the liquor store. What kind of an unfit mother was she to take a baby into a place like that? But she couldn’t leave Joey outside. The ride hadn’t soothed him at all, and he was still whining and acting fussy as she set the carriage brake and lifted him into her arms. The woman behind the counter smiled at Rosa as she walked inside, jiggling Joey to quiet him.

  “Let me guess,” the woman said. “He’s teething, isn’t he?”

  “How did you know?”

  “Why else would you bring a baby to a liquor store?” The woman took a pint bottle from the shelf behind her and set it on the counter. “Rubbing a little brandy on his gums works every time. Poor little guy.”

  Rosa didn’t particularly like brandy, but it would get her just as drunk as vodka would. “Do you have a bigger bottle?” she asked as she pulled some money from her purse with one hand.

  “Sure. But you don’t need to get the little fellow drunk, you know.”

  Rosa tried to laugh. “I know. But this is only his first tooth and I figure he’ll be getting lots more of them, right? I want to save myself a trip.” She felt bad for lying.

  As soon as she was out of sight of the store, Rosa opened the bottle and took a long swig. Then another. And another. She felt pleasantly lightheaded by the time she reached home and parked the carriage on the back porch. But the question of where to hide the bottle quickly arose. She recalled the night of the Ladies’ Missionary Society meeting and Tena’s spiked punch, and for a moment the memory almost made her smile. Then little Joey cried for her, wanting to be picked up, and Rosa’s eyes filled with tears. She didn’t want to be like her own mother, drunk and unavailable most of the time. Rosa lifted her son into her arms and carried him into their bedroom.

  “I’m sorry, baby,” she murmured. “Mommy’s so sorry… .”

  Jean had told her she could talk to God whenever she needed to—like talking to someone on the telephone. Rosa closed her eyes to pray, swaying as she rocked Joey in her arms.

  Hello, God? Are you there? Listen, I don’t know any of those fancy words like the minister says in church. Besides, I just don’t feel right saying Thou and stuff like that. But, God? I need Dirk really badly. I’m not strong enough to go through what Jean and her family are going through.

  Rosa opened her eyes to shift Joey to her other arm and saw the brandy bottle sticking out of her purse. The attraction seemed stronger than ever.

  I know what will happen to me if Dirk doesn’t come home, God. And I don’t want that to happen. Please bring him home. Please … please …

  The baby kept Rosa awake half the night as she walked the floor with him, rocking him. She had drunk a good amount of brandy before he finally fell asleep. When Tena woke her up for church the next morning, Rosa had such a terrible headache that she nearly rolled over and went back to sleep. But in the end she forced herself to get up and get dressed, afraid that God would get mad at her if she skipped church. She made it through most of the service with her fears and her tears under control until the pastor announced to the congregation that Dirk Voorhees had been listed as missing in action. A collective gasp shuddered through the sanctuary, then everyone bowed to pray for him.

  Rosa hated the word missing. That was how the men from the navy had described Dirk, and they’d made it sound as if he had vanished into thin air. He wasn’t missing. He had to be somewhere. Even if he were dead he still lived in heaven, according to Jean’s mom. He hadn’t stopped existing. God knew where he was. Hadn’t Mr. Voorhees always said that Dirk was in God’s hands?

  Jean’s mother had also said that trusting in God didn’t mean He would never let anything bad happen. It meant that no matter what happened, we could trust God’s love. He would never stop loving us. Rosa bowed her head with everyone else and prayed.

  God? If you really do love me, please let me find out where Dirk is. Even … even if he’s up there with you. Because not knowing for sure … that’s the hardest thing for me.

  Later that afternoon at the dinner table, Rosa’s father-in-law was unusually quiet. She knew him well enough by now to know that he had something on his mind. “We must talk, Rosa,” he finally said. His eyes looked weary and sad, and he spoke in a voice that was so soft it didn’t even sound like his. “Now that Dirk is missing, it is more important than ever that little Joseph becomes part of Christ’s family. We need to have him baptized.”

  “Dirk will come home,” she said in a trembling voice. “He promised me that he would come home.”

  “He shouldn’t have promised such a thing,” Wolter said. His tone was gentle, not demanding or bossy. “It wasn’t Dirk’s promise to make. Whether or not he comes home is up to God.”

  If Mr. Voorhees had spoken harshly to her, Rosa could have gotten angry in return and could have sto
od up for herself. Instead, she knew that he was gradually wearing her down. She could barely reply.

  “But I want to wait for Dirk,” she said, trying not to cry. “He should be here to hold his son when he’s baptized.”

  Mr. Voorhees shook his head. “Rosa, you heard what the men from the navy said—”

  “Leave her alone, Wolter.” Mrs. Voorhees’ voice wasn’t loud, but her husband stopped abruptly. He stared at her as if she had smacked him in the face with a snowball.

  “What did you say?”

  Rosa didn’t know who was more surprised that Tena had spoken up—Wolter or Rosa or Tena herself. In the year and a half that Rosa had lived here, Mrs. Voorhees had never once argued with her husband. She had probably never contradicted him in her life.

  “I said, leave her alone,” Tena repeated. “I understand how Rosa feels.”

  “Then maybe you don’t understand what the Bible teaches. Baptism is a sign of our covenant with God. We are disobeying God when we fail to have Joseph baptized.”

  “He will be baptized when Dirk comes home. Dirk should present his own son. You need to stop hounding the poor girl about it.”

  His eyes widened in surprise, as if she had lobbed a second snowball smack into his face. “Tena! You know that I am the head of this household.”

  “Yes, I know. The Bible says I must honor you, and I always have. But that doesn’t mean that I must always agree with you. And it doesn’t mean that I can’t tell you what I think. So I am telling you. If Rosa wants to wait, then we should respect her wishes and wait. And not nag her anymore.”

  “You are taking her side?”

  “Yes, Wolter. I am.”

  He seemed too stunned to speak. He snatched up his knife and fork and sawed off a piece of meat, then chewed it in silence. He wouldn’t look at either of them for the remainder of the meal.

  Later, when Rosa stood to clear the table, she turned to Mrs. Voorhees. “Thank you for sticking up for me,” she whispered, then hugged her mother-in-law.

  “You are welcome, dear.” Mrs. Voorhees’ entire body was still trembling.

  That afternoon while Joey napped, Rosa went to the hospital with Helen to visit Ginny. Harold Mitchell came out to the waiting room to talk to them, looking like a man who hadn’t slept or eaten in days.

  “There have been a few signs of improvement,” he told them. “Ginny opened her eyes a few times, and she seemed to recognize me. She hasn’t tried to talk yet. The doctor said she probably isn’t comatose anymore, just sleeping very deeply. And her reflexes are good. They don’t think there will be any paralysis. It’s hard to tell because she fractured her leg and both arms when she fell. They’ve told me to keep talking to her. It might help her come around. That’s what I’ve been doing.”

  From the way Ginny had described her husband, Rosa figured he’d probably talked to her more in the past few days than in their entire married life. No wonder he looked worn out.

  “We’ll sign up for shifts and talk to her around the clock,” Rosa said.

  Harold gave her a weary smile. “Thanks. I think it will help.”

  Rosa and Helen were still in the waiting room talking with Mr. Mitchell when Earl and Jean arrived. “I brought Ginny’s purse and her clothes and things from her locker,” Jean said.

  Mr. Mitchell appeared shaken when he saw the items, as if reminded of the vibrant woman who had gone to work two days ago. He sank into a chair and opened the purse, sifting blindly through it.

  “Her driver’s license …” he mumbled. “I should have told her how proud I was of her. I should have given her a set of car keys. We should have celebrated… .” He pulled out the receipt from the flower shop and unfolded it. “What’s this? The flowers? I looked everywhere for this! I was supposed to give it to our accountant so I’d get reimbursed.”

  “Who were the flowers for?” Rosa asked, not caring if it was a rude question.

  “One of our secretaries. She had her appendix out. I ordered flowers from all of us at the firm.”

  “Ginny found it in your coat pocket, you know,” Rosa said. “She worried herself sick that you’d bought them for some other woman and you were having an affair.”

  “What? Never!”

  Rosa wanted to believe him, but she remembered how much grief he had caused her friend and couldn’t control her temper. “Ginny worries all the time that you’re cheating on her, Mr. Mitchell. I want you to know that if you ever do have an affair, or if you ever do anything to hurt Ginny, I’ll hurt you in ways you’ll never forget!”

  “I would never have an affair! Why would I even look at another woman? Ginny is everything I’ve ever wanted.”

  “You need to tell her once in a while,” Helen said quietly.

  “Better yet, show her,” Jean said.

  Harold Mitchell looked truly baffled. “I show her all the time. I go to work to support her and our boys, I make sure she has a home, all of her needs are met. Doesn’t that show her?”

  “You should buy flowers for her once in a while,” Rosa said.

  “Take her out dancing,” Jean added.

  “Let her be herself, not what you want her to be,” Helen said.

  Harold sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “I know I wasn’t very supportive when she first started working at the shipyard. But I was so afraid that something like this would happen.”

  “This wasn’t a random accident,” Earl said. “This was an act of hatred, aimed at Ginny’s friend Thelma. I offered to transfer your wife to another crew when the threats first started, but she wanted to stay and fight for her friend. Ginny showed a great deal of courage, Mr. Mitchell.”

  “And she was scared of her own shadow when she first started working there,” Rosa added.

  “I’m sure the police have told you that they’ve made two arrests,” Earl said. “At least there will be some justice.”

  “I’m glad that Ginny stood up for Thelma,” Harold said quietly. “I’ve met her and her grandmother, and they are good, good people. They’ve kept our home going since the day this happened. I’m very grateful to them. And to all of you.”

  The nurses gave permission for them to go into Ginny’s room, one at a time, for a few minutes each. Rosa went first, and seeing Ginny lying there, all pale and bandaged up, was more than she could handle.

  “You gotta get better, Ginny,” she said, sniffling. “Joey’s cutting teeth, and I sure could use your help. The lady at the liquor store said to rub brandy on his gums, but that don’t sound right to me. It’s bad enough that I got all the church ladies drunk that one time, but I really don’t think I should get my own kid drunk—should I?”

  Ginny opened her eyes and looked at Rosa for a few seconds before closing them again. Rosa could have sworn that she smiled.

  The baby fussed again that night, keeping Rosa awake for hours. As she walked the floor with him, exhausted and alone, her worries grew into gigantic fears. She could tame them, maybe even forget them, if she finished off the bottle of brandy. She laid Joey on her bed and was digging beneath it for the bottle she’d hidden in her bedroom slipper when Mrs. Voorhees tapped on her bedroom door.

  “Rosa?”

  She scrambled to her feet and picked up the baby before opening the door. “I’m sorry he’s keeping you awake, Mrs. Voorhees. I don’t know what to do with him.”

  “It isn’t that. I’ve come to take him for a while so you can rest.” Rosa remembered Ginny’s advice about letting Tena help. Maybe Mrs. Voorhees’ arms felt empty without Dirk, too. The baby must remind her of him.

  “He might be hungry again in a few hours,” Rosa said.

  “I’ll bring him to you if he is.” Rosa saw the loving look on Tena’s face as she lifted Joseph from her arms. “Come on, little fellow. Let’s see if Grandma can make you happy.”

  “Thank you,” Rosa murmured.

  She fell back into bed and was all the way beneath the covers before she remembered the brandy. Rosa began to cry a
nd didn’t know why. Within a few minutes, she had cried herself to sleep. She slept so soundly that the next thing she knew it was light outside. She sat up. The baby wasn’t in his bassinet.

  Rosa jumped out of bed, wrapped her robe around her, and hurried into the living room. She froze in the doorway. It wasn’t Tena who was walking the floor with Joseph, but Mr. Voorhees. He had his back to Rosa and didn’t realize she was there. Rosa saw the top of Joey’s head, with his dark, curly hair, resting on his grandfather’s shoulder. The baby was asleep. Mr. Voorhees was saying something, murmuring softly, but Rosa couldn’t hear what it was. Then the furnace shut off and the house grew quiet.

  “Lord, Joseph needs his father to raise him,” she heard Wolter say. “Please, Lord … please bring our Dirk home so this child will have a father… .”

  Rosa turned and crept back into her room. She fished out the brandy bottle from beneath her bed, opened her bedroom window, and poured every last drop of it out onto the ground.

  CHAPTER 38

  * Virginia *

  Voices. Why were there so many voices, men’s and women’s, talking to her endlessly? Ginny wanted to sleep, and they were keeping her awake. She opened her eyes and saw Harold sitting beside her bed. He sat hunched in a chair with his arms on his thighs, his hands dangling between his knees. He was talking and talking, on and on.

  “… Minnie and Thelma are getting all the housework done and taking care of the boys, but it just isn’t the same. We need you, Ginny. I … I need you.”

  Harold’s shirt was a wrinkled mess. It looked as though he’d slept in it or had dug it out of the ironing basket instead of the clothes closet. Why on earth would he go out in public looking like that? She tried to speak, to ask him why he was wearing such a wrinkled thing, but no sound came out. It was as if she had forgotten how to talk. Harold couldn’t seem to stop talking.

  “I’ve had a lot of time to think these past few days. Your friends from work said that I should tell you how I feel more often. Or better yet, show you. I know they’re right, but I don’t know why that’s so hard for me to do… .”