Mrs. Lieutenant: A Sharon Gold Novel

by Phyllis Zimbler Miller

  Sharon answers the phone the next morning.

  "It's Nelson. Do you know where Wendy is?"

  "No. Why?"

  "She's not here. She doesn't have the car and she's never gone away when I've been home. I was just up the road for a few minutes getting milk."

  "Maybe she went for a walk."

  "In this heat?"

  "What about the hospital? Maybe she went to see Donna and Kim."

  "How would she have gotten there?"

  "Good point," Sharon says.

  "I'm sorry I bothered you."

  "Call me when she gets in so I won't worry."

  Robert comes out of the bedroom. "Who was that on the phone?"

  "Nelson. Wendy's not home and he's worried."

  Sharon glances at the pancake mix ready to be poured onto the griddle. "Do you mind if we don’t eat right now? I just want to drive around Muldraugh. See if I spot Wendy."

  Sharon pulls out of the lot. How silly. Wendy will be home any minute. Maybe she's at a neighbor's, borrowing a cup of sugar.

  Sharon drives up the main street of Muldraugh and parks the Fiat in front of the post office. Behind the building lies a small park Wendy sometimes visits. It's better Sharon come here than Nelson in case Wendy's walking back into the trailer right now.

  Across the mowed grass a flower-edged path leads to a small pond. Scum floats on the still water.

  Wendy sits on a bench, her knees pulled up to her chest and her head bent over. Sharon sits down next to her. Wendy doesn't look up.

  Wendy clutches a newspaper in her arms. Sharon pries the paper from Wendy.

  "New Vietcong Offensive Claims Many American Lives." The headline screams its news across the whole front page. Wet blotches dot the story.

  Lower down on the front page another headline reads: "Bomb Explodes in ROTC Building on University Campus."

  "Wendy," Sharon says.

  Wendy raises her head. She stares at Sharon.

  "What's going on?"

  Wendy shakes her head.

  "Nelson's worried. He called me."

  Wendy's eyes flash. "Let him find out what it's like," she says. "Worrying about the person you love."

  Sharon wraps her arms around Wendy.

  Wendy pulls herself away from Sharon. "I want to go home."

  Sharon squeezes Wendy's hands. "You would never leave Nelson."

  "I am. I'm leaving Nelson."

  "Now?"

  Wendy tosses her head. "You know how I'm driving home with Kim?"

  They worked this out together after they all offered to drive back with Kim. Wendy's the obvious choice. Her parents live not that far from Kim's sister. They will come get Wendy and take her to the airport near their home so she can fly back to Louisville.

  "I'm not coming back."

  Sharon waits as Wendy stares at the pond scum.

  "I love Nelson. I just can't stand to be with him until right before he goes to Vietnam. I wouldn't know how to say good-bye."

  "Have you told Nelson?"

  Wendy shakes her head.

  "When are you going to tell him?"

  "I'll write him a letter as soon as I get home."

  Sharon stares at Wendy, then glances at the newspaper with its ominous headlines.

  In her mind Sharon sees Bonnie Morgen in her wedding gown pause at the top of the red carpet so that she can be admired by the 300 wedding guests. On her left Sharon's parents smile. Are they imagining Sharon in Bonnie's place? On her right Robert sits erect, his eyes straight ahead. He has been quiet ever since they took their seats in the ballroom of the Ambassador Hotel.

  This whole past school year he has not repeated his offer of marriage. It's almost as if he has decided not to ask her to make such a tremendous commitment. And after several months he still has heard nothing from the army about his request for a branch transfer from infantry to MI – a transfer request based on the army correspondence course in psychological warfare he took and his master’s degree in communications to be awarded this month.

  The rabbi recites the marriage ceremony as Bonnie and Neil stand together under the chupah, the marriage canopy. The white satin gown's train trails down the red carpet, a road leading to marriage.

  Sharon reaches over and takes Robert's hand. Is he thinking that Kenneth never had the chance to marry? To pledge himself to another for life no matter how long – or how short – that life is?

  Sharon feels her heart flutter. Is she being selfish in refusing to marry Robert before he goes into the army? Couldn't marriage help Robert through this difficult duty he's convinced he must do? And, if he goes to Vietnam, wouldn't marriage give him something to stay alive for: his wife waiting for him back home. Would having a wife back home have helped Kenneth to survive?

  Now Bonnie turns to face Neil as he recites the ancient marriage formula while placing a ring on her left pointer finger: "Harai at mekudeshet lee, b'ta-ba-at zu, k'dat Mosheh v'Yisrael." Bonnie repeats the words in English: "Be sanctified to me with this ring in accordance with the law of Moses and Israel."

  In accordance with the law of Moses and Israel, Sharon repeats to herself.

  Jews faced death from so many people over hundreds of years – the Crusaders, the Inquisition, Cossack-led pogroms, the Nazis’ gas chambers – with rituals that affirmed the celebration of life – continuing to marry and have children in the face of the most terrible survival odds. Aren’t Robert’s odds somewhat better?

  Sharon's hand in Robert's shakes as she whispers in his ear: "Robert, I'll marry you now if you still want me to. Before you go into the army."

  Sharon turns to face Wendy. “None of us ever talk about Vietnam to each other. It's as if we all believe that if we don't talk about it then the war doesn't exist."

  Wendy nods.

  "Let me tell you something. I wasn't going to marry Robert until after he finished his time in the army. I was against the war – still am. I didn't want to be connected even by marriage to the war machine. And, if I'm truthful, I didn't want to face being a widow."

  "What changed your mind?"

  "Partly Robert's friend Kenneth. He ... he was killed in Vietnam." Sharon chokes back a sob. "I eventually realized how selfish I was. If I loved Robert, then I should treasure every day with him. My politics – and my own fears – were not as important as my love for Robert. Finally I said yes."

  Sharon looks at Wendy.

  "Do you understand what I'm saying? You owe it to Nelson and yourself to have every day you can together. And, God forbid anything happens, you'll be the survivor. You'll have to live with yourself. You don't want to have deserted your husband when he needed you most."

  Wendy's tears irrigate their clasped hands. "I’ll come back," she says.

  **

  Thirty minutes later Sharon turns off the engine in her apartment parking lot after driving Wendy home. Sharon feels queasy. It’s an awesome responsibility to give people advice on life and death issues.

  She remembers, before the wedding ceremony, the rabbi in the privacy of the synagogue building's lounge instructing Robert to lift her veil. As Robert raises the short piece of tulle attached to Sharon's bridal headdress, uncovering her face, the rabbi says, "You have now had the opportunity to ensure that the bride is the one you intended." Sharon and Robert both smile.

  "This custom comes from the story in the Bible where Jacob thought he was marrying Rachel and instead was given her older sister Leah," the rabbi says. "Now we let the groom check that he has the right wife."

  The rabbi lowers the veil back in place. "Sharon," he says, "why don't you wait here for a few minutes? I'll get everyone in their places and then someone will come for you."

  Robert squeezes her hand and follows the rabbi out of the room. She is all alone.

  Except for the memorial plaques on the room's walls. The English and Hebrew names of the deceased synagogue members commemorated on these metal plaques. Sharon's finger traces the raised lettering of one name.

 
; The two little girls play bride dress-up with their mothers’ old white tablecloths. "I'll be your maid of honor and you'll be mine," Sharon lisps between two missing front teeth. She twirls around to glimpse her make-believe dress train in the full-length mirror.

  "Silly," her playmate says. "One of us will have to be the matron of honor. We can't both be maids of honor."

  KIM – XI – July 6

  U.S. ground combat troops end two months of operations in Cambodia and return to South Vietnam. Military officials report 354 Americans killed and 1689 wounded in the operation ... June 29-30, 1970

  “Receptions are commonplace in the Army and need not be thought of as a bore, but anticipated with pleasure if you are self-assured and know what to do.” Mrs. Lieutenant booklet

  Two days later Kim places the picture frame in her suitcase, the glass not yet replaced. Perhaps it never will be.

  This last suitcase she adds to the packed car. Then she sits in the empty apartment with Squeaky in his cage at her feet. She's ready.

  It's wonderful of Wendy to drive home to North Carolina with her. Sharon and Donna also offered to come, but one is enough. And it makes sense for that one to be Wendy. Her parents live nearby and she can visit with them before returning to Louisville.

  At first Kim worried about Jim's parents' reaction to Wendy. Then she realized she is free to do what she wants. No foster parents, no jealous husband.

  She may still not like all blacks, Puerto Ricans, and Jews, but she likes Wendy, Donna, and Sharon. They are her friends.

  Sharon worked so hard not to bring Kim to the hospital when she swallowed the pills. Sharon didn't want to blemish Jim's army career. Now Jim has no career and Kim ended up at the hospital anyway.

  Sharon has told Kim over and over again that what happened is not her fault. "Kim, you didn't cause Jim's death. A flaw in Jim's personality killed him."

  By running away from the convenience store Kim avoided the questions of the MPs. This time she couldn't run away. Flanked by Sharon and Robert, Kim answered their questions. "Why did your husband have a gun with him? Why did he threaten the black MP?"

  Robert arranged for Jim's body to be shipped back home. He also worked with army officials on the paperwork for Kim's widow benefits. If Jim's parents give her nothing because there's no will, she won't be penniless. Robert disposed of Jim's army uniforms and offered to pack the rest of Jim's stuff. She wanted to do that herself – something she could do for Jim.

  Susanna and Bill and the children stopped by the apartment to offer their condolences. Bill stood in her living room holding Billy. "I'm terribly sorry about your husband," he said. "You should be all right with your army dependent benefits."

  How many letters had he written home for men killed under his command in Vietnam? How many times had he told parents or wives that their son or husband died defending their country? And how many times here in the States had he been the one sent to deliver in person the terrible news, the news that no one could ever take back?

  Bill couldn't offer her the comforting words that Jim died for his country. Except, of course, in a strange way he had.

  She didn't cry because Susanna cried for both of them. Between sobs Susanna burst out the information that the army would provide a hearing aid for Patty. Under the army's rules for medical benefits for dependents, Patty wasn't entitled to speech therapy until she started school at age five!

  "We have to wait two more years, two more years of Patty not speakin' right! I feel so terrible. She could have had a hearin' aid sooner and she probably would be talkin' better right now."

  Kim hugged the little girl good-bye. Poor Patty – a child who had both parents and yet had been treated no better than an orphan.

  As Kim watches through the living room window, the three women drive into the parking lot. It’s a momentous day for them – today Robert and Jerry declare going voluntary indefinite; Nelson will not as he will apply for a Regular Army post. Jim also would not have declared voluntary indefinite. He would have ...

  Kim forces herself to go out the door to meet the others – Sharon in the lead, Wendy with a small suitcase in one hand, and Donna back to her old self.

  Kim couldn’t hang on to her husband – she knew it was a fragile relationship – yet for the first time in her life she has friends. Real friends who care about her.

  "I'm sorry I won't be here for the play," Kim says to Sharon as she reaches the women.

  Sharon eyes Squeaky in his cage in Kim's hand. "I'm thinking of calling off the whole thing. There’re only two of us. And I'm not sure it's such a good idea."

  "Don't call it off,” Kim says. “We worked so hard. Ask someone else to help out."

  "I don't know who to ask."

  Wendy shifts her suitcase from one hand to the other. "How about I reconsider – and take Kim’s part? I'll be back in time for the luncheon."

  "I don't want to get you in trouble with Nelson," Sharon says.

  Wendy smiles. "Leave Nelson to me."

  Sharon places her hand on Kim's arm. "Before you go," she says, "I have a confession to make to all of you."

  Sharon looks at Wendy and Donna, then her eyes return to Kim. "I seem confident, sure of who I am. It's true that on the outside I've probably had an easier life growing up than any of you. Yet we all have our secrets."

  She glances down at her feet, then her eyes return to Kim's face. "When I was 12 years old I vowed that I would no longer share my secret thoughts with anyone."

  "What made you do such a thing?" Donna asks.

  "It was my penance for something terrible I did – I caused the deaths of four people."

  "How!" Wendy gasps.

  Sharon hesitates. "Tracy Fein was my best friend. We had a secret club – just two members. Every Sunday afternoon we met at my house. One Sunday Tracy didn't want to meet. She called me on the phone:

  "'My family is going shopping for new living room furniture, Sharon. I want to go with them.'"

  "'And miss our meeting?'"

  "'Just this once.'"

  "We took an oath. We pledged that we'd meet every Sunday afternoon. Besides, we have new business to discuss. My parents gave me some extra record money and we have to decide which record to buy. You have to come over.'"

  "'I'll ask my parents to drop me off on their way to the furniture store.'"

  "Tracy's family drove out of their way that day to drop her off. On their detour to my house ... the brakes on a five-ton truck failed and the truck slammed into them. Their car didn't have seat belts. They were all killed – her parents, her younger brother, Tracy." Tears stream down Sharon's face. "If I hadn't insisted – demanded – that Tracy come over, she and her family would be alive."

  Kim wraps her arms around Sharon. Wendy and Donna move closer.

  Sharon pulls away. "That's when I resolved not to replace Tracy's friendship. I've had friends since then, but I've never shared the closeness I had with Tracy." She uses the back of her hands to wipe her eyes.

  "I just wanted you all to know what you mean to me. I'm trusting you with my deepest secret."

  Kim wipes the tears out of her own eyes. How can she tell Sharon what it means to her, a defenseless orphan, that someone as strong and self-confident as Sharon should also be vulnerable? She hugs Sharon. "Thank you" is all Kim says.

  Donna and Wendy also hug Sharon. "You weren't responsible for their deaths," Wendy says. "They could have all been killed on the direct way to the furniture store. If it was their time to go …"

  Sharon shakes her head, staring at the ground. "That's too easy an out."

  "Sharon," Donna says. Sharon raises her head. "I've told you before, you can't blame yourself for things in the past you can't change. You have to move on."

  Sharon smiles. "And now I have, thanks to you guys."

  "I have one piece of good news," Donna says. "My brother was just rotated to the rear. He'll spend his second six months in Saigon. It's not the safest place, but it's better than being a
forward observer."

  Sharon leans closer to Kim on the side away from Squeaky. "I got you a little gift."

  Sharon lifts a rectangular package wrapped in cobalt blue paper out of her purse. "Don't open it until you're on the road."

  Lines zig zag across Kim's vision. This saying good-bye is harder than she imagined. And now a gift.

  She hugs both Sharon and Donna. "Thank you, thank you for everything. I'll never forget you."

  Wendy hugs Sharon and Donna too, then disengages the car keys from Kim's hand. Wendy mashes her suitcase into the filled backseat of Kim's car. Then Wendy slides in behind the wheel, motioning Kim with Squeaky to get into the passenger seat.

  Kim waves to Sharon and Donna. She doesn't look at the apartment.

  Kim sits with the package in her lap, staring straight ahead. She doesn't allow herself to think of her arrival here with Jim.

  Her fingers rub the package. A gift for her! Growing up, the only gift she received each year was from the church's orphan Christmas gift drive. When she was little she hoped for a doll, then when she was older a necklace or bracelet or even some records. What she got, wrapped in green and red or gold and silver paper, were socks or religious books or hair ribbons.

  Once, when she was 16, she received a pink angora cardigan. "Somebody's cast-off!" the foster mother said. Kim didn't care. The sweater so soft and pretty, and all hers. She didn't even let Diane wear it.

  Kim slips her finger into the taped opening of the wrapping paper and lifts the paper off. That same foster mother insisted that wrapping paper be removed carefully so that it could be reused. Now Kim smooths the paper on her lap and then opens the plain white rectangular box.

  A silver picture frame – the same size as her broken frame. Kim's hands shake as she reaches for the card taped to the glass.

  Kim – May you use this gift to preserve a photo from your past or to display a photo of your future. I'll miss you. With love, Sharon

  Her tears splash onto the paper, causing whitish streaks on the cobalt blue. Wendy keeps here eyes on the road, saying nothing.