Well Behaved Wives(63)

She felt more alone, more incompetent, than she’d ever dreamed possible.

Ruth was relieved that Lillian was ill and was grateful that Shirley had agreed to host lesson four, on elegant entertaining, at their house. After the brush-off Ruth had received from Carrie, Irene, and Harriet, she felt that being in her own home, with Asher’s family, would at least give her a modicum of equanimity that she wouldn’t have had at Lillian’s. After all, Lillian had told her in no uncertain terms to mind her own business and had ushered her out the door.

Ruth had no idea how the others were going to treat her today, after she’d betrayed Carrie’s trust and dished on Carrie’s abuse. She wasn’t in a hurry to find out either.

Shirley was carrying bowls of macaroni salad and coleslaw to the dining room. She had gone to a lot of trouble on the Diamond Girls’ behalf. The dining room table was laden with rice pudding, lemon squares, and rows of cookies coated in chocolate and dipped in rainbow jimmies. Mini challah rolls stuffed with tuna salad and egg salad had been stacked in a spiral. Ruth doubted it would be as tasty as Irene’s egg salad. She wasn’t sure she would identify any of this as elegant entertaining, but she believed it appropriate for an informal luncheon, and it was plentiful. No guest would leave hungry. That thought seemed inconsequential, given what was going on. But she knew Shirley cared about that.

Ruth offered to help, and they arranged the food to look more attractive. Moving a dessert tray a little this way or that. Adding a cornichon or radish garnish here and there. This feeling of working in tandem with another woman besides Dotsie or her college friends—being in sync with a woman of Shirley’s generation—was new to Ruth.

She had aunts, but this was somehow different, and Ruth wondered if this was how daughters felt when they did things with their mothers.

Any minute now, the other girls would be arriving. She had no idea what to expect today—if they even showed up.

As for Carrie, she still hadn’t answered any of Ruth’s phone calls. Ruth couldn’t help but worry about her. And she worried that she was letting Asher down too, since she was sabotaging their happy new life by ruining the friendships she’d only just made.

Ruth was letting everyone down.

She hadn’t been able to help Carrie. She hadn’t been able to fit in here with Asher’s life and with his family. She’d found it increasingly difficult to focus on her studies for the bar exam. She’d heard some people didn’t pass it on the first try. At the rate her life was going, she might be one of them. And that, more than anything, would ruin her plans.

Ruth shifted the flower vase on the dining room table over a few inches to the right, balancing out the shapes and sizes. When she looked up, she noticed Shirley smiling at her. Even that didn’t lift Ruth’s spirits.

“Ruth Appelbaum, you’ve got housewife in you after all.”

Was that really a compliment? “Thank you. I enjoy helping you. Learning how to do things your way.”

At least for today, she had someone in her corner.

Harriet was the first to arrive, arms laden with a large Tupperware bowl. Ruth removed the lid and set Harriet’s Jell-O mold on the table among the other salads.

“This looks wonderful.” Harriet’s words were intended only for Shirley. She hadn’t met Ruth’s eyes directly, and her demeanor toward Ruth—after the Carrie incident—was noticeably cool.

Shirley puttered around the table, shifting plates and bowls an inch to the left or right, and then back again. “It’s not fancy-schmancy like it would be at Lillian’s, but I didn’t have a lot of notice, so it will have to do.”

After Irene arrived with another Jell-O mold and chocolate chip cookies, they all gathered in the living room, decorated in soft fabrics and shades of green. The girls milled about until Shirley sat on the Barcalounger and pushed herself to recline. The wooden arms, slats, and legs reminded Ruth of her father’s favorite chair, where she’d spent many happy hours on his lap listening to stories about her mother or seeking shelter from her brothers’ roughhousing. She grabbed on to this unexpected memory of joy. She might need every one she could get before the day was through.

The girls arranged themselves along the sofa, leaving space for Carrie. Ruth, empty spot, Irene, Harriet. It didn’t escape Ruth’s notice that the other girls left the space around Ruth, like she might be carrying something contagious.

It was five past and Carrie still wasn’t here.

Ruth’s stomach churned with angst. Worry bubbled up. Carrie was always prompt. She hoped her friend was late because she was mad at Ruth and not because she was in serious trouble.

Her stomach was doing jumping jacks now. If Carrie was avoiding them all because of Ruth, she might have made everything worse. Her friend might have no one to go to if . . . She shuddered. Stopped herself from completing that thought.

“We’ll just wait for Carrie before we get started.” Shirley righted the chair. “We’ll go through our lesson in the dining room. I hope you girls are hungry; the food’s not just for show.”

“What would we have been doing if we were at Lillian’s house?” Harriet asked.

Irene smacked Harriet’s knee. “Mrs. Appelbaum, she didn’t mean anything by it.”

“No, I didn’t, but you have to admit the surroundings are different here,” Harriet said, glancing at Ruth.