A Cup of Tea - Amy Ephron [26]
“Oh, no—” said the old cook, handing her a glass of lemonade. “I’ll take it up to her. I don’t think either one of you’s up to a fitting.” They both looked for a moment at the hat box on the table.
When Josie came in at her usual time, twelve-thirty, from the theater, carrying a chilled bottle of champagne, she found Eleanor sitting at the vanity in her room wearing only white pantalooned underwear. The window was open and the overhead fan was spinning slowly, but all it seemed to do was move the hot and humid air from one place to another.
“You missed my applause,” said Josie reproach fully.
Eleanor had promised to meet her at the theater that night but hadn’t felt well enough.
“I brought the house down,” said Josie. “It was fabulous.” She practically pirouetted around the room and popped the cork on the champagne. She poured them each a glass in jam jars which was the only readily available china she could find.
“Where were you?” she asked as she handed Eleanor a glass.
“I wasn’t feeling well. It was the heat. I haven’t been—feeling well. Dora sent me on a delivery, at noon. I thought I’d walk. It was too far to walk in the heat. Someone’s husband died and I—had to bring them a black hat. It—it was too far to walk in the heat.”
“You look pale,” said Josie.
“I do look pale. I know,” said Eleanor. “I shouldn’t. I should look like a picture of health. I’m—” Eleanor studied her friend. It wasn’t that she was worried what Josie would think of her. Josie had always dealt in unconditional acceptance. It was just that she had not yet said it out loud. “I’m—having a baby.”
“You’re not…?!” said Josie.
“I am.”
“Who is he?” asked Josie sounding in that moment like an older sister.
She didn’t know how to answer. The man she loved. The father of her child. “He isn’t here,” she said. “He isn’t—free. He’s in…France.”
“Oh great,” said Josie without losing a beat. “A married soldier.”
“Officer,” said Eleanor.
“That makes it better,” said Josie. “Have you thought about what you’re going to do?! What happens when you lose your job?! How long can you hide it?!”
“I figured you’d have your name on the marquee by then and support us both,” said Eleanor who was only half kidding.
“Be serious,” said Josie. “I have a friend who knows a doctor. Actually, I think he’s a dentist.”
Eleanor cut her off. “I could never do that.”
“What are you going to do then? You think Wetzel will let you live here?”
“We’ll move. You’ve always wanted an apartment. I haven’t,” she said. “I haven’t thought about any of it.” She laughed a little to herself. “It’s not a condition you think your way into. I’ve thought about what I will name her,” she said. “If it’s a girl, I want to call her Tess.”
Josie answered drily, “And if it’s a boy?”
“I thought I would let his father name him.” Eleanor got up and walked to the window. “It would be easy to say the war has made us do things we otherwise wouldn’t have.”
“Us?” said Josie.
“Okay, me, then,” Eleanor admitted. “But I don’t have the sense to regret any of it at all.” She gave an odd smile because she didn’t regret any of the time she’d spent with Philip.
Would she have been more careful with Philip’s letter if she had known that there would be no others? Did she leave it behind on purpose because she wanted to be discovered or had she simply become forgetful and skittish as so many women do in the early months of pregnancy?
Dora found it in the pocket of the work apron. She didn’t hesitate for a moment about reading it. Eleanor was so mysterious, didn’t ramble on at the drop of a hat, as did most of the girls Dora had hired and reveal the most intimate details of their lives whether Dora was interested or not. No, Eleanor had secrets. Yet, even so, Dora was surprised, not so much by the contents of the letter but by the name of its sender. Philip Alsop. Eleanor and Philip Alsop. Dora folded the letter carefully in