She wrote a check for her purchases and signed it Corinne Mendelsohn Osner. Christina knew plenty about Mrs. Osner’s bank accounts. The statements came to the office every month because Mrs. Osner was hopeless at balancing her checkbooks. Christina knew Mrs. Osner came from money. She could afford to buy whatever she wanted whenever she wanted it. She didn’t have to ask permission, like the other wives. She didn’t have to save out of her household allowance every time she needed a new girdle. But Christina suspected the subject of money was often what led Dr. O to smashing one of the Seven Dwarfs. Christina remembered the last bill from Fishman’s, the most expensive women’s dress shop in the city, and how, after Dr. O had seen it, he’d exploded, smashing not one, but two of the Seven Dwarfs. Daisy hinted that every time the Osners had a spat, a shopping spree would follow. So, given what she’d just spent, Christina suspected a whopper.
When Mrs. Osner left the shop, Athena said, “Very nice, Christina. You have the makings of an outstanding salesperson. You know how to present yourself. You know how to make helpful suggestions. Why not come to work here after graduation? We could be partners one day. I’m not saying right away, because I’m the one with the experience, but in time we could expand into accessories. Scarves, gloves, bags.”
“Thank you, Athena. I’ll consider your offer.” But Christina had no intention of working with her mother and sister, especially not her sister.
—
CHRISTINA DIDN’T DROP the hint about a Valentine’s Day gift directly to Dr. O. Instead, she told Daisy that Mrs. Osner had put something away at Nia’s Lingerie in case Dr. O decided to go shopping. Daisy went to the shop on her own, bought the silky white nightgown for Corinne and handed the gift-wrapped package to Dr. O the next day. “A little bird tells me this is what Corinne would like for Valentine’s Day.”
“Valentine’s Day,” Dr. O said. “Is it Valentine’s Day already?”
“No, but it will be soon.”
“Well, thanks, Daisy. It’s very good of you to think of Corinne. Write yourself a check for the amount of the gift and I’ll sign it.”
Elizabeth Daily Post
KING GEORGE VI DIES
British Mourn Wartime Leader
20
Miri
The King of England died on February 6, and now Princess Elizabeth would be queen. She was twenty-five years old. Miri wondered how she felt knowing she’d be queen for the rest of her life. Was she sad that her father died but excited about being queen? Did she ever wish she were still a girl, a regular girl? Because Miri did. Sometimes she wished she were a little kid again. Everything was so simple then. Now she never knew when she was going to find out something terrible, something she didn’t want to know. Sometimes her jaw ached in the morning. She wondered if Princess Elizabeth’s jaw ever ached.
She wasn’t going to tell Rusty, or anyone else, about this. She wasn’t going to tell that sometimes she tossed and turned all night. Sometimes she woke up tired. Life felt harder than it ever had before. Sometimes she felt angry, frustrated, often sad. She thought being in love could cure anything but she was finding out that wasn’t always true.
She and Suzanne had chipped in to buy a big stuffed panda bear for Betsy Foster but Suzanne’s mother explained they couldn’t visit her at the hospital. Betsy was still in isolation because of the burns. Maybe in a few weeks, Mrs. Dietz had told them. Miri agreed to keep the panda, wrapped in cellophane, in her room. The problem was, every time she looked at it, it reminded her of what had happened. She tried putting it in her closet on the shelf but it didn’t fit upright, so she laid it on its back. Which in a way was worse, because then it reminded her of Penny in a coffin. Finally, she set it on its belly and covered it with a spare blanket.
And now—surprise—there was a letter from Mike Monsky. What was he thinking, writing a letter to her? She supposed she should be grateful he sent it in care of Frekki and Frekki put it in a plain envelope and forwarded it to her. Still, what if Rusty saw it? What if Irene did?
Dear Miri,
I’m back in Los Altos and I’ve shown your photo, the one Frekki took of you in front of the Paper Mill Playhouse, to Adela and the boys. All three are anxious to meet you and hope you can visit over the summer.
Yours,
Dad (Mike Monk)
Dad? He had the guts to call himself Dad? And Adela wasn’t surprised? She didn’t get angry when she found out he had a secret child? Maybe she believed Mike Monk when he told her it was a surprise to him to learn he had a fifteen-year-old daughter. Maybe Adela believed whatever he told her. Or maybe they had a big fight over it. Maybe Adela accused him of being a liar. Liar, liar, pants on fire, the little boys would have sung, circling their father. Why did he have to go and write to her? Why couldn’t he just leave her alone? But was that what she wanted—for him to leave her alone? She didn’t know. She folded the letter into smaller and smaller squares, then shoved it into a sock. It could have been a piece of lint. Toe jam in the bottom of her sock. Rusty would never bother to unroll a pair of socks. As far as Miri knew, Rusty never snooped around in her room. She was pretty sure Rusty trusted her. She was just covering all her bases.
—