Maine - J. Courtney Sullivan [53]
Alice didn’t respond. Her body shook with anger. She had kissed her share of boys, but she was saving her virginity until marriage. Everything to do with sex frightened her—the mechanics of it, the risk. One girl in the neighborhood, Bitsy Harrington, had gotten pregnant in the back of a Plymouth by a sailor who told her it was the only way for him to touch her heart. Rita and the other girls had made terrible fun of Bitsy, but Alice thought that she herself might not have known any better. Things in that department were a mystery to her. When she started her period at the age of fourteen, she had believed that she was dying and run home from school in tears.
Her sister had always seemed similarly foggy, but now here she was, saying that she had gone all the way with Henry. Mary was leaving her behind, making her feel like a stupid heel, when everyone knew that Alice had always been the more sophisticated of the two. More important, there was the issue of eternity to think about—her sister was sinning in one of the worst ways, damning herself, and for what?
Alice wanted to know where they had done it. Would he ever marry her sister now? It made her feel queasy, just thinking about it. Mary might have ruined everything for them both.
Alice went to Mass the next morning and in addition to praying for her brothers, which she always did, she lit a candle for Mary.
A few weeks passed. It was October, the first cool evening of fall. They sat down to dinner with their parents after work as usual. Mary had made a roast chicken and mashed potatoes. Alice was eager to get through the meal so she could pick up the extension in the pantry and find out what had happened at the office today when Trudy broke the news to her boss that she was moving to the suburbs to start a family and would have to quit working soon. Trudy had told her friend the night before that today was the day, and she was terribly nervous that he’d blow a gasket. Why, Alice did not know. How hard could it be to find another secretary?
She turned to Mary. “Trudy told her boss about Adam’s proposal today.”
“How did he take it?”
“I’m waiting until after supper to find out.”
Mary grinned. “I can’t believe you didn’t bring the phone right to the table.”
Alice took a bite of chicken. “I would have if I could manage to pull it out of the wall.”
“Alice,” their mother said. “You’re awful. Pass the peas to your father.”
He was at the far end of the table, reading the paper, several glasses of whiskey into the evening. He had strolled in from the bar down the corner a half hour earlier, looking like he wanted a fight. But now he seemed more likely to pass out in his potatoes.
Alice gave him the peas without even looking at him. She went on, “Trudy suspects Adam only asked her because he knows he’ll have to ship out soon. Sounds sort of unromantic if you ask me.”
“I don’t think so,” Mary said. “A proposal’s a proposal.”
“Maybe if Henry had been drafted, he would have asked you by now.”
“Alice!”
“Well—when do you think he’s going to ask?” Alice said. “It’s been a year. What’s the holdup?”
She wondered if perhaps he was one of those wealthy cads who thought he could just string a girl along forever, though Henry didn’t seem like the type.
“Honestly, Alice, the things you say!” Mary looked exasperated, but she began to laugh. “Why are you so excited to get rid of me, anyway?”
Alice thought, Because the sooner you get married and start having babies, the sooner I’ll be free to live whatever life I want.
But she wouldn’t say that—it would sound selfish. So she only responded, “I’m not!”
Suddenly there came a harsh voice from the end of the table. “Will you two stop yapping about it?”
Their father looked up from his paper, his eyes glassy. He wiped his nose with the back of his hand, cleared his throat. “Every night, your poor mother has to hear you scheming and planning and it makes me