The House of Eve (48)
You aren’t one of us. You will never fit in anywhere. I’ll make sure of it.
In her first year of marriage to William, Eleanor had not made a single friend at these exclusive events. A few hellos and quick goodbyes, but nothing substantial. There were no invitations to tea, or baby showers, or lunch that she could grab onto. But with her baby growing inside of her, she could only hope that things would change. She moved her fingers in soothing circles under the table, reminding herself that she was never truly alone.
This one had to be the charm.
Eleanor and William had waited until after the wedding and honeymoon to tell his parents that she had lost their first child together at ten weeks. Rose gave her deepest condolences, but once she thought Eleanor to be out of earshot, she told William how she really felt.
“Perhaps we should get the marriage annulled and fix this whole mess,” Rose Pride admonished him.
“Mother, there is nothing to fix.”
“If she’s not having your child, then what’s the point?”
“The point is that I love her, and I need you to accept that.”
“She doesn’t fit.”
“We fit just fine. I made a vow before God that I intend to keep. Now, drop it.”
Eleanor didn’t want to get caught eavesdropping while she stood just outside Rose Pride’s den. When she turned to back away, one of the servants stood sweeping the floor behind her. She had heard the outburst, too, and offered Eleanor tight lips before fixing her eyes on the imaginary dust on her broom.
Rose was never outwardly rude to Eleanor. After all, control was her strong suit. When Eleanor became pregnant the second time, Rose hired a housekeeper to clean behind them once a week. She insisted that Eleanor give up her beloved job at the library, and even wanted her to pause her education, but Eleanor refused to give in to the latter. Her mother had worked too hard selling her baked goods to get her to Howard. Eleanor owed her a degree. To accommodate her new life, she had arranged all her classes on Monday, Wednesday and Friday to cut down on how often she needed to travel to campus, and then pushed on. She would finish the semester after the baby was born, but she would finish.
The sound of glass shattering pulled Eleanor’s attention back into the room. A dark-skinned man with large eyes was apologizing profusely as he stooped to pick up a flute that had tipped from his tray to the floor. Eleanor looked for William and spotted him in the center of the room, standing in a circle with Greta Hepburn, her parents and his parents. Greta was chuckling, then put her ringless hand on William’s arm as a pretense of steadying herself. Even from where Eleanor sat, she saw Rose’s face brighten in Greta’s presence. Greta was the daughter-in-law that Rose had wanted, and to Eleanor it felt like she was waiting in the wings for Eleanor to slip up.
She pinched her thigh in order to keep herself from imagining what Greta and William’s life would have been like together, had William not met her, had she not gotten pregnant, had he not done the right thing by her, but she forced herself to let that nagging thought go. She flipped over her new watch and read the inscription again.
Our time is for eternity,
Love WP
When she glanced back up, William looked across the room and winked at her. The five-piece band had taken the stage, and the music played a steady upbeat rhythm as he moved toward her.
“Mrs. Pride, may I have this dance?”
Eleanor giggled despite herself and allowed her husband to spin her body across the dance floor. She nestled her face in his neck and whispered, “I love you.”
* * *
They had barely made it through the door before William found the zipper at the back of her neck and tore her frock from her. The stairs to their bedroom would take too long, so they found their way to the living room. Pressed against the settee, William parted her thighs and sank into her flesh. They arched, clawed and moved against each other with the ache of that first-year fever that just never seemed to flicker out.
“Happy anniversary,” William gasped, then collapsed against her breasts.
“Did I hurt the baby?” he asked, with his chest poked out.
Eleanor rolled her eyes playfully. “Always fishing for a compliment.”
“You know I aim to please.” He kissed her cheek.
“Well, accomplished.” She retrieved her panties from the floor. “But our little girl is famished.”
William stood naked in the dark living room. A sliver of moonlight caught the twinkle in his eyes. “Peanut butter and jelly sandwich coming right up.”
It had become Eleanor’s favorite midnight snack, and as William fumbled around in the kitchen, she licked her lips and thought, once again, how lucky she was.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN HEAVEN HELP
Ruby
Aunt Marie had consulted with her “girls” at Kiki’s and came home with several ideas to help me. Janice, who spun the 78 records on the jukebox, sent me a thermos of potent herbs that I was instructed to drink in one sitting. The concoction was meant to force a miscarriage, but instead I got the runs. Paulie from behind the bar recommended a scalding-hot bath that did nothing more than scorch my skin and kink up my hair. For three days straight, I had swallowed quinine, an anti-parasite pill courtesy of Sweetie Pie from the fry station, and I was in the middle of throwing my guts up when Shimmy knocked on the door. I dragged myself to open it.