Well Behaved Wives(51)
This Philadelphia world was new to her, and she was still learning the ropes. Things could get out of hand quickly if she wasn’t careful. What had they said in today’s etiquette lesson? That all the dominoes might fall.
“One of the other wives from the etiquette lesson?”
She thought about telling him who, but was still reluctant to betray Carrie’s confidence, even to Asher. Not yet. “Yes. And I told Lillian about it, but she didn’t believe me.”
“Why?”
“Because she said I didn’t have proof. And that it was none of our business what happens between a husband and wife.”
Asher seemed to chew on that. “Hm. Lillian has a point.”
Ruth looked at her husband askance. “But what if that friend needs help?”
“What if you only think she does?”
Was he right? He must have caught the look in her eyes, because he smoothed the covers over her. Gentle. Caring.
“Look, Ruth. People’s reputations are important. So is their privacy. Just like our privacy is important to us. Things we keep between our family and no one else. Lillian knows how things work. She was probably trying to save you from making a mistake that could hurt you. Hurt us. Hurt our family and our reputation. Indiscretion isn’t taken lightly around here.”
Who was this man she married who had forgotten all the work she did in New York? Who didn’t believe her? It wasn’t the Asher she remembered. “But I think my friend needs me.”
“What did she say?”
Ruth closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “She said it was none of my business.”
Asher chuckled. He was making fun of Ruth.
Her face heated.
He pulled her closer. “That’s what I love about you. Your big heart. Your passion to help others.”
She was wrong. He wasn’t making fun of her. So she tried to bask in his compliment. But was he suggesting she put aside her worry about Carrie?
He didn’t get it. Didn’t understand. Thank God.
In the morning, shadows woke Ruth. Fall sunlight felt its way through bare branches to create movement that danced across the pink walls and flowing curtains. Nature showed off sometimes, even in a neighborhood that consisted of as much stone and concrete as grass and trees. She had so much studying to do. How did she let herself get so distracted?
Ruth reveled in the view from her bedroom window, which overlooked a tree-lined street instead of a New York neighbor’s fire escape.
Escape.
That’s what Carrie needed to do. Maybe Ruth could talk her into taking a little vacation. Getting away from Eli could help clarify things for her—help her see things for what they were.
Asher had already left for the day. Ruth swept her foot to the left, feeling the cool sheets instead of his thick, hairy calf, confirming that she was alone. She reveled in her solitude for a moment, claiming the bed as hers.
She loved her husband, loved sharing this bed and benefiting from the warmth of his bulky body, but time to herself had always been elusive. First living with her father and brothers, then with other girls at Barnard and after that Columbia, now with Asher and his parents.
Ruth didn’t want to live alone, but she craved—she missed—having something that belonged just to her, like the bar exam. Ruth sprang from bed. What was she doing lying around? She had to prepare for her friends. She would worry about study time later.
She needed to go to the bakery, set the table, find blocks and toys for little Heidi, brew the coffee, and, of course, dress in something simple and hostess-like. Simple and hostess-like. If only she owned an outfit like that. She made a mental note to shop for one.
She had her fingers crossed that today would go well. She’d invited all the girls for coffee before her argument with Carrie, and now she wasn’t sure if Carrie would show up. They’d ended yesterday on a negative note, to say the least.
Carrie’s and Lillian’s faces tumbled into Ruth’s thoughts and twisted her heart into a jumble of sadness and disappointment. If Carrie didn’t show, what was she going to say to Irene and Harriet about her absence? She couldn’t tell them that Carrie didn’t want Ruth in her life.
Carrie might spread rumors about her to cover up her own problem.
She might make Ruth out to be the villain the way Lillian suggested she was. Carrie could easily paint her as a gossip who spoke out of turn about things she knew nothing about. And Lillian might corroborate this.
Ruth knew the truth, but she seemed to have made a mess.
Lillian Diamond had turned away from the situation like one of those graceful and beautiful pink flamingoes Ruth had seen at the zoo. Dozens of people had lined the fence to watch the birds, who were blind to all the activity around them. Maybe they didn’t know any better.
Dressed in a green floral A-line and her brown run-to-the-store shoes, Ruth donned her wristwatch and a pair of earrings, then left the attic.
The cool air pressed her into a soft gallop down the steps. Chill swooshed around her legs, the thin nylon stockings covering them providing little protection against the cold. If Leon was anything like her frugal father, it would be closer to Chanukah than Rosh Hashanah before the radiators hissed with heat.
As she moved from the second-floor landing to the staircase and down to the foyer, a gentle sweetness tickled Ruth’s nose. Shirley must be baking, which wasn’t unusual. She served dessert after dinner every night. That was in addition to always having ice cream and Oreos around—two of Asher’s favorites, tastes he’d acquired when he lived on campus. His mother always had plenty of homemade goodies available too. Rice pudding, apple cake, cherry turnovers, cinnamon curls, chocolate chip cookies.