All Good Women by Valerie Miner

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Chapter Seven
    Fall 1941, San Francisco
    AMERICANS SUSPEND OIL EXPORTS TO JAPAN
    PANAMANIAN GOVERNMENT OVERTHROWN
    US SUPREME COURT RULES CALIFORNIA’S
‘ANTI-OKIE’ LAWS UNCONSTITUTIONAL
    THE BUS IDLED on a quiet street corner. ‘Hold it please.’ Teddy swooped up her belongings and shouted. ‘This is my stop.’
    â€˜Lady, I ain’t got all day.’
    â€˜Sorry.’ She smiled, alighting from the bus with newfound grace. The lady secretary walked briskly past a yard of tentative fall flowers. Funny how you get used to mild weather. In Oklahoma the climate was harsh and hard. Here in California a day could turn to gold in January.
    The Fieldings’ house looked cramped and drab this afternoon. It was much smaller than the family place back home, but it was the tiny yard Teddy noticed most. Her eye caught the drainpipe hanging from the roof. Pop had promised to fix that two weeks ago. Not a good sign that he hadn’t got around to it. Teddy held her arms across her chest, hoping that he wasn’t drinking again. She could hear Patsy’s music blaring from the radio, ‘When You Wish Upon A Star’.
    â€˜Hi, Teddy.’ Virgil looked up from his marble game with Jack.
    â€˜Hi there yourself.’ She nodded fondly. ‘Say, what are you two doing in here? Isn’t this time for your chores in the yard?’
    â€˜No.’ Virgil regarded her seriously. ‘Mom told us to take the day off. Pop’s out in the garden. You know he’s …’ Virgil tipped an imaginary bottle.
    â€˜I see.’ Teddy swallowed hard. ‘Where’s Jolene?’
    â€˜Sick in bed,’ Jack answered. ‘Bad cold.’
    Teddy inhaled sharply. She smelled spaghetti from the kitchen. Nice that Mom was varying the menu a bit. She got tired of Pop’s favourite Lima beans with hamhock and Jolene’s white beans with ketchup. ‘I think I’ll see Mom. Let me know who wins at marbles and I’ll take him on later.’
    Patsy was doing her homework in the dining room, listening now to another song from last year, ‘Oh, Johnny’. Teddy patted her sister’s shoulder and thought how she used to read at this old oak table with its uneven legs. She was quite partial to the faded paisley rug. What would Wanda and the other girls think of this house? Would they be bothered by the noise and the clutter? Until Pop sobered up, she’d never be able to bring them home.
    Mom was standing at the stove, staring out the window to the back yard. Teddy tried to guess her expression. Exasperation? Prayer? Teddy loved her mother’s jet black hair and the high cheekbones and the dark skin that didn’t seem to wrinkle. Sometimes the Cherokee was more visible, and she did look more than one-eighth Indian today. Mom turned and smiled, unflustered. Had she known her daughter was there all along? Mom had a shaman in her, which saw out the side of her head and understood things before they were said.
    â€˜Hello, dear.’ Mom held out her arms. ‘So how was work today?’
    â€˜Oh, fine, exciting, I mean.’ Teddy wanted her mother to know how much she loved the Emporium. ‘I’ve got a new boss, Mr Whitney. He’s organized and calm and he …’ The exhilaration drained as she looked over her mother’s shoulders to her father sitting in the garden squinting at the bright blue sky.
    â€˜But Mom, I could be contributing more.’
    â€˜Teresa Fielding, we’ve been around and around on this.’ She wiped a dark hair off her face, back into the knot at her neck.
    Teddy thought of Miss Fargo’s bun and how different the two women were although they were about the same age. Mom’s hair fell loosely at the back of her ears, with long strands wisping down to her shoulders. Her weight settled easily around the breasts and hips. Inadvertently she looked out to her husband.
    Teddy knew Mom