She almost choked on the words.
No matter how Lillian would like to change her life, the social stratification would always remain. She did love Peter, her daughters, their way of life. She understood that his success was, in large part, because of her social skills. But what if she—
Ruth interrupted her thoughts. “What if we want more?”
A momentary silence fell over the assembled women. Lillian had no idea how to answer. Not with Shirley in the room. She found herself struggling with the truth.
Shirley piped up as if she knew exactly what Lillian had been wrestling with. “These rituals are the cornerstone of our community. What Lillian is saying is that you use your smarts to your family’s advantage. Help your husband get ahead. Buy that glamorous home, that shiny car. Send your children to the best schools. You don’t have to brag about your role in it. In fact, you shouldn’t.”
“So it’s okay to be smart as long as no one else figures it out? I’d go crazy.” Ruth was throwing caution to the wind now. She looked incredulous, and her mouth barely closed after the words came out.
Crazy. That word again. Lillian’s skin crawled at the memories from her childhood when they took her mother away.
Shirley emitted a tinkling laugh, like the sound of ice crackling in a glass of vodka.
Lillian hated conflict in her home, and the sound added to her nervousness, but she felt compelled to support Ruth’s urge for freedom from these suffocating social constraints. “Of course, anyone would.” Not everyone. Just Ruth. And maybe Lillian too.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Shirley said. “I believe in what we do here. These rituals you’re learning are what maintain our way of life. But there’s more to life than children and husbands and good manners.”
Lillian couldn’t believe her ears. Apparently neither could the girls, who sat up straight. Ruth didn’t take her eyes off her mother-in-law.
“Housewives are uniquely positioned to see what’s going on in the world—and to do something about it. That’s why I have my hobbies. But we’re not talking about me.”
Oh. Hobbies. Not what Lillian had in mind.
“Hobbies won’t change the world.” Ruth’s tone was dismissive. She was publicly chastising her mother-in-law.
Lillian held her breath as she waited for Shirley to retaliate.
Shirley merely smiled a long-suffering smile, as if to say, “You see what I have to put up with?”
This lesson had gotten away from Lillian, and she had to corral it again. “Most men—and women—want housewives to focus inside the home. But I don’t believe you have to choose. You can be a good wife and mother and have more in your life. Just find one small way to start.”
“Why do we have to keep it small?”
Lillian composed herself and opened her mouth, but Shirley chimed in first. “These etiquette lessons are one small way to begin. Your shopping trips. Lunches with your friends. Keeping the peace in your family. Staying happily married.” She looked pointedly at Ruth.
“We all understand that our social system is ingrained. We must be careful how we make changes. Don’t push too far at once. If a change is too drastic, the whole set of dominoes will come crashing down.”
“And people will think we’re responsible,” Carrie said.
“And think you’re hysterical,” Shirley said. She was looking at Lillian now.
Hysterical. She’d chosen the word deliberately, no doubt. Lillian tightened her hands so no one could see them tremble.
“I heard they have pills for that,” Harriet said, breaking the tension. “And I heard they work.”
All the women, except Ruth and Lillian, chuckled.
“With four kids, I could use those on most days.” Irene laughed. Even Ruth managed a small smile.
“I . . . I think . . . you . . . understand what . . . needs to be done. All right then.” Lillian forced a smile. “We’ve had enough for today.” She hoped she didn’t look as pale as she felt. The lesson hadn’t gone as Lillian planned. Shirley’s presence had derailed it completely.
Chapter 19
RUTH
A measly drizzle was falling as the girls walked out of Lillian’s house, chatting about their third lesson and the benefits of supporting their husbands.
Before Ruth could get out the door, Shirley put a hand on her arm and asked her a question about Asher’s schedule for the evening. Ruth was relieved that Shirley didn’t confront her about the public disagreement. The other girls—all of them had brought umbrellas—skittered down the front path toward the street.
After satisfying Shirley about Asher’s plans, Ruth crossed the portico and walked into the gray afternoon, leaving Shirley inside. Her friends had gone, so she lifted her face to the sky, searching for fresh air to replace the stifling atmosphere she’d just left.
Water hung in the air, misting her face like the lightest spray on a hose. As the rousing wind stirred things up, the drizzle left a film of cool condensation on her skin and clothes that grew from the soaking droplets. Ruth rounded the hedge to the sidewalk and found her friends waiting there, smiling under an assortment of umbrellas.
It was a pleasant surprise. Ruth had felt like the Lone Ranger in that meeting. The only dissenting voice. The solo mission. Yet here were her friends, wanting her as part of the group, even if it was simply to walk home together.
“Thanks for waiting,” Ruth said. “Let’s go.” She pointed to the corner, and they all hurried in that direction. Then, as if by some mind-reading trick, or as if Lillian’s voice were in their heads, the girls slowed to a respectable walk.
Irene and Harriet in front, smoking; Ruth and Carrie behind.
They strode in step. Left, right, left, right. Laughter and banter.
Ruth eavesdropped on the details of Heidi’s friends and Harriet’s engagement party. She listened to Carrie’s pot roast secrets. Ruth mentioned plans for apple-picking, additional fall shopping, and a couples’ night she would like to host once she had a home of her own. They gabbed over and around one another, but somehow Ruth heard it all. She let go of her disappointment about hearing what women should do and enjoyed what she and her friends were doing in the moment. She wanted to keep these women in her life. Things would change when she was working, but for the time being, this was fun, and it would please Shirley.
What would happen to their group when the etiquette lessons ended? Would this bond be enough to maintain friendships when she worked as a lawyer? When Harriet got married? With Irene juggling four children and Carrie planning for one? After she passed the bar, surely Ruth would make lawyer friends, but they would likely be men. It was refreshing to have girlfriends—women friends.
Irene glanced at her watch. “You girls can dawdle; I’ve got to pick up the pace so my mother isn’t alone with all four kids. The older ones will be getting out of school soon.”
“I promised my mother I’d come right home, too,” Harriet said, though Ruth couldn’t imagine why. Harriet had no children and was only engaged. She must be planning a big wedding. Ruth had seen enough of her New York friends submerged under the list of things that needed to be taken care of, to be thankful that her own ceremony had been small. Harriet and Irene waved and scampered away.