All Good Women (41 page)

‘Sure, why not? It sounds like he loves you.' Wanda drank the whole glass of water at once. ‘He wants to take responsibility for Tess. Before the war, he was a little wild. But you say he's calmed down. What do you think, Moi?'

Moira shook her head, distracted by the ‘Moi', for this was the first time Wanda had used her nickname since she had returned. ‘I think you're right. At first I was suspicious — with his push me/pull you routine. Could I count on him this time? But he showed me the money he saved in the navy. He really scraped. And he's got that job at the garage. He's even been looking around at apartments for us.'

‘Do you love him?' Wanda thought about a time when this seemed a simpler question. Did she herself love the person Roy had become? Did Mama always love Papa? Did Carolyn still love Howard?

Moira smiled at Wanda's perplexity. ‘Yes, I guess that old feeling is there. I like his spunk. We laugh a lot. He's basically a kind man. And now there's the responsibility of Tess. I want her to have a family, a complete family, unlike mine, with brothers and sisters. And a father. I think Randy and I can make a home together.'

‘Sounds good.' Wanda sipped her coffee.

‘Well, we'll see,' Moira said. ‘What about you? You'll get married as soon as Roy returns?'

‘That's the way we write to each other. Now that the war in Europe is almost over …'She paused, thinking how she believed that there were two separate wars. Sometimes she pretended the other one didn't exist. Although she had lost Howard in Italy; although she still risked losing Roy there, it was the Pacific war she wanted to be imaginary. ‘Yes, I guess so. He's talking about moving to Berkeley for optometry school. And wants me to try to study writing.'

‘Oh, Wanda.' Moira took her friend's hand.

Wanda pulled back. ‘It would be better than slicing up fish all day. Often in the cannery, I feel like I'm on the battlefield, you know the way soldiers talk about depersonalizing the enemy.'

Moira grimaced. ‘Yes, Randy said that about the Japanese.' She stopped abruptly. They had never really discussed about how to talk about the war. But what else could she say? They were the enemy. Besides, the Nakatanis weren't Japanese any more. She continued unsteadily. ‘He said you had to get them before they got you.'

‘Well, I don't feel endangered by those poor fish, but the job is my form of survival. And it's astonishing how used to the sight of blood and the smell of intestines one becomes.' She looked up at Moira, who had pushed her raspberry pastry to the side. ‘Oh, Moi, I am sorry. Berkeley is a nice dream, isn't it?'

‘Wonderful. But what happened to Roy's photography?'

‘Not practical, he says. I tried to persuade him differently. But you know what it's like corresponding through the delay and the censor's scissors. I think he's lost heart. He insists that optometry will pay steadily and he can still play around with the cameras.'

‘Still, you sound hesitant.'

‘Mama is lost without Papa and Howard.'

‘Won't she feel happy when she gets a grandchild?' Moira couldn't believe how evangelistic she had become about motherhood.

‘She has one — Carolyn's baby, Winnie.'

‘That's not what I mean.'

Wanda blushed. She could hardly discuss her confusion about children with Moira. ‘Let's get back to you. When do you think you'll set the date?'

‘July.' Moira startled them both with her alacrity. ‘Rather, we'll have enough saved for an apartment by July.'

Wanda waved to Teddy
across
Union Square. Even from here she could tell the girl wasn't well. She sat slumped on the bench listlessly throwing crumbs to the pigeons. Last week, Wanda knew something terrible was wrong because Teddy cancelled their plans. She said she was under the weather, and, as Wanda approached, she saw Teddy's eyes were shadowed in dark circles and her hands twisted anxiously. Smiling faintly, she raised herself from the bench.

‘Good to see you, old friend.' Teddy tried for her usual hardiness.

‘And you.' Wanda impulsively put her arms around her. ‘How are you?' Wanda could barely hear her own voice above the city noises.

‘Still a touch of that cold, I reckon.' Teddy ducked Wanda's glance as if she were aware of the contrary evidence on her face. ‘Shall we walk around this dinky old park. There seem to be some starving pigeons over there.'

‘Sure,' said Wanda with concern. ‘Let's walk.' At first, she thought that Teddy wanted to meet here to accommodate her. But now she knew Teddy needed to get out of the neighborhood as much as she, herself, needed to avoid it. Moira must have set a date.

‘What's going on?' Wanda could not stand the suspense.

‘They're getting married.' Teddy exhaled raggedly, as if she had ice in her lungs.

Wanda waited.

‘Moira and Randy,' Teddy explained, for her friend seemed to have missed the significance. ‘They're getting married in July.'

‘I guessed that.' Wanda put her arms around Teddy who drew away automatically. ‘How are you feeling about it?'

‘It's the best thing for Tess. She needs a father. And I can always visit.'

Wanda shook her head in futility. Now that Teddy was letting Moira go, Wanda felt her own anger at Moira, who always landed on her feet.

‘I feel so selfish.' Teddy surveyed the late afternoon shoppers and the sailors strolling through the park. ‘I'm just thinking of me.'

‘That's a beginning.'

‘I don't get it.' Her voice grated. ‘I did my best. I loved them both. Yet they're going. I have no say. It doesn't seem right. Doesn't seem fair.'

Wanda nodded.

‘But it will be best for them, that's what I have to concentrate on. That's all there is to feel.'

‘It's hard to be abandoned by your friends.' Wanda stared at the pigeons who were circling under the bag of bread dangling from Teddy's right hand.

Teddy looked at her, on the border of relief and panic. ‘Oh, I don't know. I don't want to wallow in it.' Then, helplessly, she began to cry. ‘I just don't understand it. First Angela leaves. Then you and Ann. Then Pop dies. Now Moira and Tess are going. Everybody seems to be disappearing. Oh, Wanda, I'm sorry, of course with your father and brother, you've suffered so much. I'm awful selfish, blubbering on this way.'

‘No, perhaps not selfish enough. You're always talking about what's happened to other people. What's happened to you these last three years? You've run around taking care of your family and Mr Rose and Mr Minelli and Moira and Tess and the bond campaign and your job.' She sat down and tugged at Teddy's elbow. Her friend sat with a thud.

‘Oh, but you don't know the half of Moira and Tess. Moira and I …' Teddy stumbled because this would offend and frighten Wanda.

‘I think I'm beginning to understand. Do you want to talk about it?' She was ready now, whereas she hadn't been prepared to hear about it from Moira. It wouldn't be easy, but they were her friends.

Teddy saw Wanda's lower lip trembling and knew she would just have to pull herself together.

‘It's hard to be left alone.' Teddy opened the bag of crumbs, sprinkling them toward the parade of pigeons.

‘We all left you,' said Wanda.

‘That's not fair. It's not the same for you. You didn't have a choice.'

‘In some ways Ann didn't either … or Moira.'

‘In some ways.' She emptied the bag. ‘Look, I'll get over it. People remain friends when they're living across town.'

Wanda nodded. When would they talk openly? She used to think intimacy became easier with age, but now she believed it was just the opposite. She was so much more aware of the vulnerabilities she wanted to hide. ‘You will get over it,' she said finally, ‘but give yourself time.'

Teddy crunched the empty bag into a ball. Then she turned to Wanda. ‘You'll never guess who I heard from last week.'

‘Miss Fargo.' Wanda peered at the leaves of a palm tree scratching the blue sky.

‘How did you know?'

‘No idea,' Wanda shrugged. ‘Your tone of voice probably.'

‘Well, a friend sent her that new article from the
Examiner
having to do with the bond campaign. Apparently when she received the letter, she was sick. Last week, she wrote to say that she knew I would go places. Not that I've gone very far. I think the Emporium is all of a mile from Tracey Business School.' She laughed self-consciously. ‘Anyway, she asked after you, all of you.'

‘Oh, yes?' Wanda's eyebrows rose.

‘I think she's a little lonely, living in an old folks' home out in San Jose. I thought I might go down next week. You wouldn't be interested in joining me?'

Wanda looked back incredulously.

Teddy shrugged. ‘Really, she did ask about you.'

‘I got a letter like that last week.' Wanda changed the topic deliberately. ‘From Mrs Wright, the teacher at Lion's Head.'

Teddy nodded.

‘She's still urging me to enroll at her friend's school in Chicago. Wants to know how I am, how the family is. Funny when people keep in touch, people you'd prefer to forget.'

‘Do you feel the same about me?' Teddy noticed all the pigeons had gone now.

Wanda frowned and shook her head. ‘How can you even think something like that?'

‘I don't know. I've just been questioning everything lately. The house, maybe it wasn't such a good idea.'

‘What do you mean? We had a fine time.'

‘But it didn't last.'

‘That doesn't mean it wasn't good. We didn't end it because we failed.'

‘No? Moira was just saying the other day that maybe it's not good for friends to live together, that they get on each other's nerves.'

‘Everyone gets on everyone's nerves. That's crazy talk. Moira is upset. No, the house was wonderful. I often think that we were ahead of our time, or that it wasn't the right time.'

Teddy relaxed back against the bench. She knew Wanda was being honest and she wanted to agree with her.

Wanda wished she could explain to Teddy how much she respected her courage in living without a man, independent and unconventional. She even admired Moira for trying to live like that. But Moira obviously wasn't a lesbian. Now, what did that mean? And how could she admire Teddy for something that was simply her biological nature? Is that what it was? Just as well she didn't fumble through this out loud. Maybe one day they could talk about such things.

‘You know that I admire you?' Teddy asked Wanda.

‘Yes, ah, yes, enough of this. Let's talk about your family. How are your Mom … and Jolene?'

Wanda walked
into the silent
apartment, relieved to be alone. It was a tiny place in which it was easy to trip over each other. She looked around the living room, crowded with furniture from their house before the war. Before the war — would her life always be marked in two — before the war and after? It would have been easier in camp with spartan tables and chairs than to crowd with these old ghosts — reminders that the Nakatanis did not quite fit in San Francisco. The kitchen was the hardest room for Wanda because she had longed for a proper kitchen when they were in camp. She hated the mess lines and the cardboard dinners. But here she could never get used to the pink and lavender cabinets in this stuffy room several floors above the street. This wasn't a kitchen. Kitchens opened on to back yards with swings and gardens. But this was a boiler room hanging out over the loud, filthy traffic.

This morning she had opened a head of celery, horrified to find that the heart was brown and misshapen. Several stalks grew out of the twisted center and they, in turn, had been deformed, so that it only looked like a head of celery on the outside. It was ridiculous that this grotesque image haunted her all day.

Roy's letter lay in the middle of the dark table. At least she was alone with the letter now. Mama would be with Uncle Fumio for another two or three hours and Betty was rehearsing for the school assembly. She felt resentful that this letter was dropped in the open rather than placed on her bed or even left in the mail box. Out on the table like this, it could be everyone's property. She wasn't engaged to Roy. He was engaged to her family. He was the man of the family. Mother and Betty already had expectations of him. Poor Roy. Dear Roy. Why couldn't they just have a romance, an engagement, a life that didn't hold so many people.

Two hours of precious solitude. Wanda stretched her hands above her head, then switched on the kettle. Sometimes what she missed most about Stockton Street was the feeling of being a self-sufficient working girl. But given all the catastrophes between Teddy and Moira lately, she knew that Stockton Street was part of the past for all of them.

Moira and Teddy. She had wondered about Teddy since the Angela days. But Moira? Was she using Teddy as a cushion against the loneliness? Had she really loved her like that? They had both been right in assuming she didn't want to hear much. She wished she had been able to reach out more, particularly to Teddy, who was so bruised. Perhaps she still could. Perhaps after Moira left and things were defused, they could talk more candidly. Certainly Teddy would need people then.

The kettle whistled and filled Wanda with a surprising pleasure. This was her favorite time of day, just as the sky was greying, while the air was still warm with the activity of afternoon. She filled her cup and walked back to the table with Roy's letter.

Dear Wanda,

I'm well. We've been in this village for …

Wanda was always startled
by
the scissor marks stabbed into each censored line. Why didn't they trust their own servicemen? She understood that there were spies everywhere, but she hated the way the government stepped into the middle of personal lives. As was the way with the military, they didn't simply slice the offending word, but managed to cut into the other side of the letter, too, to excerpt the most innocent and sensitive correspondence. She sipped her tea and continued.