Well Behaved Wives(8)

Now he was nudging her, slowly but surely, away from her dreams.

Irene shimmied to sit straighter, though Ruth thought it impossible. Lillian smiled and shook Irene’s hand, but didn’t crouch. “I’ve seen your picture in the Jewish Exponent,” Irene said to Lillian. “You’re even prettier in person.”

“Why, aren’t you sweet.”

Ruth hadn’t thought to compliment Lillian, who had moved to a cream-colored chair next to the fireplace.

Shirley was the reason for Ruth’s being in this marble house, with these marble wives. For agreeing to do the classes. Ruth hadn’t considered the possibility that she’d benefit from the lessons other than because they would please her mother-in-law. Might these girls really become her friends? And what would happen when they learned she had graduated from law school and wanted a job?

She assessed each of them in turn.

Harriet, prettier than she deserved to be if appearance matched personality, had already met Ruth with disapproving rancor. Each snippet of information Ruth shared seemed to offend Harriet’s way of life and add a chip to her shoulder. Ruth’s career—any woman’s career—would likely set Harriet reeling.

Irene appeared laidback and affable, with an easy smile and a breezy laugh. But she’d chosen to stay home with her children and might be affronted by Ruth’s choices—so different from her own.

Through her work with the MWLAS, Ruth had learned most wives were quick to defend their lives—good or bad. The biggest surprise to Ruth was that the women looked normal, even pretty. Hairdos, scarves, long sleeves, concealer, and powder transformed some of these women. Dabs did wonders.

Last was Carrie—reserved, sweet, and modest. She and Ruth didn’t share a cause as far as she knew, but they were both new to marriage and to Wynnefield. That might be enough—perhaps they could navigate the whatsits and wherefores of Wynnefield together. Maybe Carrie had already learned what clubs and committees to join and where to shop. Perhaps she had already made friends their age—without babies—or joined a bridge game or book club.

Ruth sensed that Carrie, with her tentative smile and quiet demeanor, was more like her than the others. It would be nice to have a friend while appeasing her mother-in-law—even if that wasn’t what she’d planned.

“Your husband is why I’m here,” Carrie whispered to Ruth. “They met on the golf course last weekend, and Eli insisted I attend as well. I guess I should thank you.”

Ruth raised her eyebrows and lowered them. “Eli must be quite a friendly fellow to get a conversation all the way to what I’m doing. Asher isn’t the talkative type as a rule.”

“Well, I thought it was nice of him. My husband doesn’t usually like me to join clubs. He prefers me all to himself,” Carrie said.

“Oh, that’s so sweet,” said Harriet, who must have been listening in.

Ruth shuddered inside. She and Asher had always planned the time they spent together. They had so many separate activities. Her sorority, AEPhi, his fraternity, the Midtown Women’s Legal Aid Society, the Accounting Society—their respective friends, families, and studies. Talking about the time they spent apart was one of Ruth and Asher’s favorite activities when they were together.

Carrie blushed. “It is sweet, isn’t it? How does your fella feel about the lessons?”

“Scotty wants me to be happy. It was my idea to be here now,” Harriet said. She held out her left hand, ostensibly so the others would ogle her engagement ring. Irene obliged. “I want to start off on the right foot. What about you, Ruth?”

“I just moved here about a week and a half ago from New York,” she said, certain she wasn’t answering what had been asked. “My mother-in-law suggested I come here.”

“Shirley Appelbaum?” Harriet asked.

Ruth smiled because she thought she should.

“You’re the one who eloped?” said Harriet. “I heard about you at the beauty parlor.”

Ruth itched to point out that Asher had also eloped, but she took the brunt of the blame, as if she’d dragged him down an imaginary aisle by his hair. Is that what they thought?

If so, they didn’t know Asher.

Once he set his mind to something, it was impossible to convince him otherwise.

Sure, they’d talked about marriage in passing. And Ruth had assumed she’d marry Asher someday. She hadn’t been a girl who daydreamed about weddings, or honeymoons, or babies, and he knew that.

So, when he proposed with his grandmother’s ring, declaring not only his love but the logic behind eloping, she knew he was serious.

“If we marry now, we don’t have to be apart. Ever again,” Asher had said, clutching her hands as if she might run away. Had he been that unsure of her? “If we were only engaged, you’d have to stay in New York, and I promised my dad I’d be home at the end of the summer.”

Ruth’s heart had tensed at the thought of any separation. She’d been terrified of losing him. Nothing would have mattered without Asher. If she hadn’t known it before, she knew it then. She would do anything for him.

And she had.

“I can’t imagine not wanting a real wedding,” Harriet said.

“To each her own, girls,” Lillian said. “Don’t judge.”

Ruth blinked. Had Lillian just defended her?