The Future Homemakers of America

by Laurie Graham

  Gayle said maybe. But only if Ray was deployed, because she hated to be apart from him any more than she had to. And only if it didn't cost big bucks. And only if she could get time off from the Silver Moon. As soon as Ray's tour in paradise was through, she had hurried back to her old life in Jacksonville.

  Lance and Audrey were on the move again.

  ‘We're heading east,’ she wrote.

  US presence at Truxton is being reduced, and Lance got orders to Halby, Norfolk, so we'll be back on familiar territory. Lance informs me we're getting a sail-boat for weekends. Could be the greatest fun if the boys ever find their sea-legs.

  We have Mikey and Lance Jnr in a very good school near here, so they are going to stay on and board. It's what you have to do if you want your child to get a decent education and mix with the right people. Also, it teaches them independence. It will take a lot of pressure off me, too. I am so busy with Red Cross and the Air Force Aid Society and a hundred other things, sometimes all I have time to do is come home from my lunch appointment, change for cocktails and run out again.

  As soon as we're settled at Halby I intend having Kath over for coffee. Did I tell you I'm getting tennis lessons?

  Audrey was as good as her word. By the time I phoned Kath to wish her a happy birthday, she had been honoured with afternoon tea at the Lieutenant Colonel Rudmans.

  ‘Very fancy,’ she said. ‘Great big place they've got and that's only the two of them. Those boys are hardly there. Beautiful wood floors, and curtains right down to the ground. They've spent some money.’

  I said, ‘How's Audrey looking?’

  ‘Lovely,’ she said. ‘She wears her hair pinned, up now. She's got a French pleat. And you should see the carry on for a cup of tea. All different kinds, she was offering, didn't mean a thing to me. I told her, “Do you come to see my bungalow, you'll get a Co-Op teabag.” She laughed. But that was all silver. The tray and the teapot and so forth. Nice china slop-bowl. Slices of lemon with a little fork. Talk about creating washing-up. But of course, she has a woman to do all that.’

  I said, ‘She's left us far behind, Kath.’

  ‘Well,’ she said, ‘she's still nice to me. And I tell you what, Peggy. Who'd swap places with her? I wouldn't. Making fancy dinners for people she don't even know. And she never sees her boys. They're away at some school. Imagine that? Having kiddies then paying strangers to see their smiling faces of a morning?’

  Kath's School of Motoring was going well. ‘I'm getting known,’ she said. ‘Ladies a speciality.’

  I said, ‘You making enough to think of taking another trip over here?’

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘Not yet a while. Everything I make, I have to put back in. And if I go on holiday, that's not just what I'm spending. I'm not earning neither. But you could come here, you know? You could have my zed-bed and I could borrow May's Lilo for Crystal.’

  I said, ‘Can't do it, Kath. Crystal's in her senior year, and I have my brides to consider.’

  Afternoon Tea — Guidelines for Young

  Officers’ Wives

  BY AUDREY J. RUDMAN

  Guests should wear their nicest afternoon dress, a gay hat and white gloves. It is polite to stay for at least half an hour, but do not linger beyond three-quarters. On leaving, the convention is to say, ‘I must be going. Thank you so much.’

  It is quite acceptable for a junior officer's wife to repay her luncheon and dinner obligations with lighter repasts, in keeping with her budget. Use your loveliest tablecloth. Have fresh flowers on the table. In winter, candles may be lit. Coloured candles are sometimes seen, but white are in better taste.

  Offer small fancy cakes, plain cookies, and tiny sandwiches, with a choice of fillings. Meat paste or cucumber are always acceptable. The service of tea is presided over by the ranking officer's wife. This courtesy should be extended to the CO's wife, if she cares to pour.

  55

  If you asked me to pick out a silver pattern for myself, I think I'd have chosen Buttercup. Or maybe Chantilly. But when I had a bride come into the registry, I couldn't allow my own tastes to intrude.

  You could tell things about a girl from her pattern. Whether she was the retiring type or more outgoing. After a while I got so I could spot a Chrysanthemum girl soon as she walked through the door. Many of my San Antonio girls had Repoussé because that was what their great-gramma had had. But in Dallas I met a different attitude. Girls there just wanted the best. Silver, crystal, china, linen. They went for the big price-tags, and I was happy to help.

  I moved there after Crystal enrolled for the diploma of veterinary nursing.

  I said, ‘Would it bug you? Me moving to Dallas too?’

  ‘It's a big city,’ she said. ‘Just as long as you don't have me tailed.’

  Betty said she didn't know how I could bear to live in such a blood-stained place, but I loved it and I loved my work. I never missed a day. Never got sick. And in the morning I was always first in, checking the cleaners hadn't left scuffs on the carpet or fingerprints on my beautiful silver.

  The only thing would have made me even happier was if my own flesh and blood had shown the least interest in choosing a pattern. I could have started collecting pieces for her, with my employee discount, and there were some new patterns coming in, from Copenhagen, Denmark, I thought she'd have loved, having such modern tastes, but she turned her nose up at the whole bridal thing. The only kinda knives Crystal was interested in was scalpel knives.

  ‘Tell her to take the Face-Lift course,’ Lois said. ‘And remind her of all the kindness I showed her when she was a child. I don't know about you, Peg, but I'm about ready to start calling in some of the gratitude we're owed. We still on for Chesapeake Beach?’

  We were. Me, Lois, Gayle and no brats. Betty didn't want to come anyhow. She was busy with her Avon cosmetics, bringing fragrance and beauty to the homemakers of Converse.

  But our weekend never happened, because President Lyndon Johnson bombed North Vietnam, and Ray Flagg went MIA when his battalion landed at a place called Da Nang.

  Gayle phoned me. She said, ‘He's dead, Peggy. I know it.’

  In my heart I knew it too, or at least I thought better for her to be prepared for it. But of course what I said was, ‘Maybe not, honey. He might turn up.’

  Fool thing to say.

  It was October before they found him. Identified him by his dog-tag.

  Gayle had already left Camp Lejeune. Couldn't bear the sight of all those Marines getting ready to ship out. She was back in Greensboro, slinging hash. Wondering what to do with the rest of her life.

  I talked her into coming south for Thanksgiving. I guess I had my own motives, it being my first holiday without Crystal, but Gayle needed a place to go. She had Flagg in-laws and Jackson in-laws, and a thousand kin of her own, but there didn't sound to be a charitable human being among them.

  I sent her a ticket into Dallas-Fort Worth and then we drove on down to San Antonio with a baked ham and a Sara Lee All-Butter Pecan Coffee Cake. We were invited to Betty's.

  First thing Gayle said when she got in my car was, ‘Peg. I'm drinking.’

  I said, ‘Okay. I like a drink myself.’

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘I mean I'm really drinking.’

  I didn't know what to say.

  She said, ‘I don't get drunk or anything. I won't do anything to scandalise Betty. But I have liquor in my bag, and I just wanted you to know, I'll be drinking it. It helps me sleep.’

  I said, ‘Well, Betty takes pills. Pills to make her sleep and pills to make her happy, and she dishes them out like candy, so just promise me you won't mix any of Betty's little helpers with the stuff in your bottle.’

  ‘I promise,’ she said.

  I said, ‘And maybe some day you'll get by without it. Give yourself a chance. My God, honey, it's a miracle to me you're still standing.’

  ‘Two fine husbands,’ she said, ‘and I never did get to have a little baby. It just wasn't meant to be.’


  I said, ‘It might happen yet. You still have time.’

  She was only thirty-five. She was still a pretty woman, considering what she had been through.

  ‘No,’ she said, ‘I'm resigned. Tell you the truth, Peg, I don't think my insides are working right. Little procedure I had when I was fourteen, I think it maybe threw a wrench in the works.’

  I said, ‘It don't seem fair. You were always so nice with Crystal and Sandie.’

  ‘Yeah, well,’ she said. ‘Being nice to other folk's kids ain't hard.’

  That was before she had eaten dinner in the company of Betty's three grandbabies, Dawn and Delta and Danni.

  56

  Betty had done up the duplex. She had created a dinette, with a table in wood-effect Formica and bench seats and a big new TV on a swivel stand, so you could eat dinner and not miss your favourite shows. She had made changes in her bedroom too. Crocheted covers for the bed and the cushions and the lamps in a pale shade of pink.

  Gayle said, ‘Wow! You got yourself a real boudoir here!’

  Betty come over all modest. She said, ‘I just like to keep it nice and dainty.’

  I noticed she still kept a photo of Ed on her night table. Ed in his Blues, long ago and far away.

  There was no sign of Sherry. She was spending the day with her boyfriend's family, out near the Kelly air base.

  I said, ‘Not another of your girls gonna marry air force?’

  ‘They're civilians,’ she said, ‘but what if she did find an airman? I'd be proud.’

  Carla said, ‘Why didn't Crystal come?’

  I said, ‘Well, she's all grown up and pleasing herself these days. She's gone to Maine to visit with her daddy. She's a college girl now.’

  Carla said, ‘I'm gonna go to college.’

  Then Deana arrived with her brats. Delta was four, Dawn was going on three, and Danni was one year old. Dwayne was away on exercises.

  Gayle said, ‘I wouldn't have known you, Deana.’

  I should think not. She was remembering Deana the brat. Gayle had kinda stood still in time, in spite of the liquor and the widowings. But Deana had grown up and out and messy. She was barely twenty-one, but she looked ten years older. Only thing I'll say is, her kids were turned out clean. Nice little dresses, all matching. I guess that was Betty's handiwork.

  Deana said, ‘You hear about Perry Kaiser, Mom?’

  Perry was that boy Crystal had hung out with. News was, he was on his way home from Vietnam, blown up by a mine, not expected to walk again.

  Betty said, ‘Deana! Not in front of Gayle! She's had her own sorrows.’

  Gayle said, ‘Don't mind me. I don't have anything left the military can take. They cleaned me out. But y'all better get used to it. There'll be a whole buncha Perry Kaisers coming holme.’

  Betty said, ‘Well, anyway … dinner's ready. So let's all wash our hands, and then we can give thanks. Peggy? Would you like to do that for us?’

  I don't know what her game was, dropping a thing like that on a person. I didn't know any prayer. Far as I knew neither did Betty. This seemed to be some new thing she'd gotten up for the benefit of Deana's girls. Gayle picked up on my difficulty.

  She said, ‘Can I do that, Betty? If Peggy don't mind, I'd just love to do that.’

  And she stood up and said some real praying words, about feasting in paradise. Little Gayle from Boomer, North Carolina. All the years I'd known her, I'd felt like a kinda mother to her. Guess it was my turn to feel like the child.

  Betty had prepared us a feast, I must say. Turkey, cornbread dressing, baked sweet potato, fried squash, Niblet corn, marshmallow and fruit-cocktail salad and, of course, her Three-Color Refrigerator Cake. We were as full as ticks.

  Delta had been eating candy all morning, so she had to have every mouthful coaxed into her, Betty cutting it all up small and playing games to get her to swallow another bite. There was no need. Delta looked like she could have gone a week without eating.

  She said to Gayle, ‘Where's your daddy?’

  ‘In heaven,’ Gayle said.

  Delta said, ‘Why ain't you crying, then?’

  Betty said, ‘Delta! Would you like to see the princess gown Gramma's making for your dolly?’

  ‘Already seen it,’ she said. She still had her beady eyes on Gayle, waiting on an answer.

  Gayle said, ‘Because you don't cry at parties. You wanna play a game? You know how to play Simple Simon?’

  I helped Betty clear away while Gayle played with Delta and Deana changed two diapers.

  I said, ‘If you don't mind, I'll drive round to San Jacinto Street. Say hello to my mom.’

  ‘Of course,’ she said. ‘You must be missing Crystal.’

  I was.

  Connie and Mom were watching the Loretta Young Show. They had had Thanksgiving dinner on trays.

  I said, ‘Didn't know you were back, Connie.’

  ‘How could you?’ she said. ‘You're the one walked out on us.’

  I said, ‘Three hundred miles. And you have my number.’

  She said, ‘You ever call Mom?’

  I said, ‘She's never home.’ It was a feeble excuse. We both knew I didn't call because all I'd hear was another hard-luck story, and never an enquiry about me or Crystal.

  Mom said, ‘You're wearing your hair different. You making good money up there?’

  I noticed she still had the walrus-tusk Bambi I'd brung her when me and Vern come back from Alaska.

  I said, ‘I'm working hard. Helping Crystal, through school. She sends her love.’

  Mom said, ‘She courting?’

  I said, ‘No. She's studying.’

  ‘Ha!’ she said. ‘Then she'll be gone. You'll see.’

  I said, ‘You living here again, Connie, or just visiting?’

  ‘I'm getting back on my feet,’ she said. Connie was always getting knocked off them by lying, cheating men. Every one she took up with was the one who was gonna be different, but sooner or later he'd turn out to be exactly the same.

  Me and Gayle shared Carla's room that night.

  After we'd closed the door, Gayle said, ‘Okay, Peggy. I'm gonna spend a little time with my friend Jack Daniel's and if you want to creep out and fetch yourself a glass, you're welcome to join us.’

  I said, ‘I can't touch that stuff. But you go ahead.’

  I wished she wouldn't. All the drive down, all through dinner, she had been so bright and brave. But it was clear she was just papering over the cracks. Seemed to me she probably needed to dress in black and do a little weeping and wailing. She read my mind.

  ‘I'll cry tomorrow, Peggy,’ she said.

  Crystal come back from Maine in an ugly mood. She called her step-brother Eugene ‘the missing link’.

  I said, ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘It's evolution,’ she said. ‘It means he's what you'd expect for a bait farmer.’

  I said, ‘How about Martine? She treat you nice?’

  ‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘She makes pie.’

  I said, ‘So your daddy's happy?’

  ‘I guess,’ she said.

  I told her the news about Perry Kaiser. She stood gazing outta the kitchen window for a while, drinking a can of soda. Then she crumpled the can with her bare hands and hurled at the wall.

  I said, ‘There's no call to act so tragic. It's not like he got killed. Think of poor Gayle, and her Ray.’

  She looked at me.

  I said, ‘Anyway, you weren't that keen on him.’

  She said, ‘I didn't have to be keen on him. What kind of a fool attitude is that? He could have been my worst enemy, I still wouldn't have wished that on him. He's nineteen.’

  Get on to the subject of Vietnam was the surest way to ruffle her feathers. Also, she had started using the F-word.

  Betty Gillis's Three-Color Refrigerator Cake

  Make up a box each of lime, orange and strawberry jello and put in a cool place. Cover the bottom of the cake tin with Graham crackers.

 
; Cream together half a cup of fine sugar with one egg yolk and a tablespoon of Crisco. Add a can of crushed pineapple and one cup Angel Flake coconut. Beat egg white till stiff and fold in. Pour over the Graham crackers and refrigerate. When set, cover with layers of colored jello. For a lighter cake, break up the set jello with a fork before spreading. For a fancy finish, if you have company, cover the top with Cool Whip and silver candy-balls.

  57

  I was under a person called Marguerite, at the Dallas Bridal Registry. Marguerite was always threatening to retire to Florida and I was waiting to step into her shoes, but the day never seemed to come. She was given to changing moods. Sometimes she was friendly. She'd bring me in romance stories she had finished with and back issues of Vogue. But the next day she was just as likely to give me the cold shoulder. You never knew where you stood with her. Looking back, it was probably the time of life she was going through.

  Anyways, during that period I had troubles of my own, namely Crystal. Whatever I said, Crystal would argue the opposite. We were seeing terrible things on the TV every night. Rioting and buildings set alight and coloured folk marching, which she was all in favour of, and then our boys coming home from Vietnam, shot up or worse, which she said was their own fault for going. Seemed to me, everything in her mind had turned topsy-turvy. Also, she had quit wearing nylons, and she didn't keep her hair nice any more neither. It just hung there, getting longer and longer, till you could hardly see her face.

  One thing about it that bugged me was, everybody else's kids seemed to be turning out nice. Audrey's boys were learning to talk French. Kirk and Sandie Moon were giving Lois a smooth ride. And Sherry Gillis, who was never all that, had gotten strawberry-blonde highlights and the chance of a career in movies. She was still waiting tables at the Alamo International House of Pancakes, but she had met a man said he definitely could get her into something in Hollywood, so she was just biding her time, waiting for the contract to come through.

  Betty said, ‘I told her, she has my blessing, just as long as she keeps her clothes on.’

  Betty was having a few problems in that direction herself. She had Slick Bonney trying to coax her out of her undies. He had run into her when he was in K-Mart buying his spring wardrobe. Slick had never married, never crossed the state line. Never shown any interest in Betty, neither, when we were in high school, but the minute he heard she had split up from Ed, he set his sights on her. He said he'd never forgot her running round in her apron, when Future Home-makers catered a Father-Son Banquet for the Topperwein chapter of Future Farmers of America. He had been very keen on tractors in those days. Still was.