Well Behaved Wives(66)

Harriet huffed.

Carrie looked up with a weak smile. “I’m having a baby; the doctor confirmed it.”

Ruth patted Carrie’s back. There was no question what Carrie needed to do, but Carrie seemed unsure.

Shirley laid her hand on Carrie’s shoulder. Ruth expected her to say that was wonderful or mazel tov or to give some motherly advice. Shirley remained pensive.

Carrie opened her mouth to speak and sobs gushed out. Words popped out between gasps, but they had no cohesion. “Special.” “Bottle.” “Waiting.”

“Shh,” Shirley said. “We have all the time in the world.”

Shirley’s soft response surprised Ruth. Where was her mother-in-law with all the opinions, all the answers?

The others remained silent as Carrie pulled a handkerchief from her pocketbook and dabbed her unbruised eye. “I wanted it to be a special night. When I broke the news about the baby. I made New York strip, brought out a bottle of champagne. This is what we’d been waiting for.” Carrie attempted a smile in a forgotten moment of hope, before her eyes filled again.

“When I told Eli, he was so happy. He hugged me, twirled me around the room. He said he was proud of me. He was my lovable Eli.” Carrie looked back at the floor. “Then he said he wanted to move to Bala Cynwyd. That it was a better place to raise kids than Wynnefield.”

Irene shifted in her seat and Lillian blew out a breath. Between them, six children were being raised here.

“I said I didn’t want to move. That was it.”

“What’s the problem? It’s literally across City Line Avenue,” Harriet said.

Ruth really wasn’t sure how long she’d last without punching Harriet, or at least wrestling her to the ground like her brothers might. Even in a situation like this, the woman point-blank refused to understand what was at stake.

“I don’t have a car and I don’t know anyone there. I’ve finally made friends.” Carrie looked at each of them. “I don’t want to move. And that’s what I told him.”

“That’s your right,” Ruth said, and glared at Harriet.

“He accused me of awful things. Asked me if the baby was his, said he wouldn’t raise the milkman’s son. Called me an ungrateful bitch. Then he slapped me, and I stumbled backward and fell over a kitchen chair.”

The women grimaced in unison. Carrie gingerly lifted her blouse, revealing black-and-blue ribs, as if needing to provide proof. “Honestly, if it was just me, I wouldn’t care.”

This was the saddest thing Ruth had ever heard. Carrie was willing to take a beating to stay married to this man. As if her own safety and happiness didn’t count.

“But the baby . . . ,” Carrie said.

“Are you bleeding?” Shirley asked.

Ruth blinked, not sure what to make of Shirley’s question. Was she concerned about medical problems, or was she gauging whether anyone would believe Carrie without the sign of blood?

“Any pains in your stomach?” Shirley persisted.

“No.”

Harriet gave an exaggerated sigh. “You know, he has to live in the city to work at the high school, right? Maybe—”

Harriet’s willful ignorance was too infuriating to bear. Ruth snapped, “Maybe what?”

Harriet ignored her and dug in. “C’mon. If he’s so bad, why did you stay? And why did you sleep with him?”

“How dare you question Carrie’s—” Ruth’s face felt hot and was likely redder than her lipstick.

“Stop, both of you,” Irene said. “We can’t know what this is like.”

The women fell silent. Irene was right.

“I love him,” Carrie said. “He was fixated on moving away—he wouldn’t let it go. Said he didn’t care what his school contract said—that he’d get out of any restriction.”

“Entitled bastard,” Shirley whispered.

A tiny gasp left Ruth’s lips before she realized it. Her mother-in-law. The etiquette-stand-by-your-husband queen.

“What else happened?” Irene asked.

“What makes you think anything else happened?” Harriet said.

Irene shrugged. “Something must explain a onetime outburst like that.”

Ruth tried to decide what to say. Irene knew there had been previous attacks. But if Ruth spoke up, and the other girls didn’t show any surprise, Carrie would know they’d talked about her, that Ruth had betrayed her trust. There was no sense in piling more pain on this drastically wounded woman, so Ruth remained silent. These girls didn’t understand because they hadn’t seen what Ruth saw in New York. She wanted to defend Carrie, but that was not important. What was important was to help Carrie get out.

Lillian’s face had faded from peach to gray. “One time is one too many.” Her words were coughed out, scratchy, after a too-long silence.

At last, someone was making sense.

“You’re right. So we have to call the police,” Irene said.

“I said no!” Carrie said. “That would jeopardize his job.”

“Until he hits you again. I think the police is the only way to go. At the least, it will keep Eli on his toes. Let him know he’s being watched.”

Shirley’s scoff was full of contempt. “The system won’t help her. They’ll take his word over hers.”