Baby Shower for Peggy
October 27
Letter from Mom. She gets here on the first. Dug out the long neglected W.P.B. chart and, taking my courage between my teeth, filled it in:
Waist, 28½ inches; Stomach, 35 inches; Hips, 39 inches; Bust, 35 inches; Weight, 120 pounds. But I can still wear the slacks if I let the zipper stop short. What with the long matching jacket you’d never suspect.
And still-despite all the things the girls, the books, the doctors, and the rules say-I’m sick every morning. But I have got over the 4pm upheaval.
My appetite is anything but voracious. I’m still interested mostly in tomato soup but that added weight must be coming from somewhere. Maybe it’s those midnight snacks. And there is a difference in my face. The mask of pregnancy has never appeared, but some of the wrinkles are disappearing just plain fattened ‘out. Others will soon take their place, though; Lucretia fixed that.
Drove Pat to his office in Bridgeport today and stopped off at the first agency in the ‘phone book.
All the girls in town are working in munitions factories for three times a maid’s wages. Not one would prefer a nice family in the country to big money.
I tried Norwalk once more before I headed for New York, and they actually found a girl for me to interview. “All I asks is no baby care, honey.”
October 28
Went all the way into New York and an efficient “personnel director” seated me in one of those tricky little cubicles that always scare me tongue-tied. She produced a fat, sullen-looking woman of about forty, who demanded suspiciously, “How many children?”
“Well, none really, but-”
She smoothed her coat over her broad hips. “No, Ma’am. I’ve had thirteen of my own and I don’t want no more.”
Next came a carbon copy of Lucretia, only smelling of “Floor d’amoor”, I brushed her off quick. The third and last was a thin little girl, racked with coughs. She was sweet, but I can’t have Jake catching things.
I bought a newsp2per and looked up “situations wanted”, while I syphoned off the tomato soup surplus. There were columns of them, all stipulating “no country”. Only a few wanted more money than Pat earns.
Back home again empty-handed, I cooked us a gourmet’s dream of tomato soup, creamed canned tuna fish on toast, canned peas and carrots, and the bakery’s gooiest cupcakes.
October 29
Pat said I ought to be looking for a maid instead of teaing and bridging a~ the baby shower for Peggy. It certainly shows how little a man knows, for I discovered today where I may be able to get a maid. She sounds wonderful and her name is Eliza.
Everyone at the shower was “expecting” except one girl who must have been quarantined. Nobody spoke to her because there was nothing to talk to her about. “Can you still fasten your shoes? Just wait! Bob says he’s got me where he wants me. I can’t get out of the house unless he ties the laces.” …”There I was reading a book in the lobby of the Waldorf, waiting for Jim to come along, and all of a sudden the book zooped right out of my hands, and was I embarrassed! Such a kick, in front of all those people.”… “I got an awful shock when I was walking down the street and tried to look in a store window. I bumped right into it, my stomach was so far ahead of my face!”… “My hands are so puffy I can’t get my wedding ring.”
My own hands are still slim and I hope they stay that way. If there’s ever a time a girl needs to wear a wedding ring this is it.
October 31
Eureka-Eliza! Brother, if she’s as good as she’s cracked up to be, we’re in. “Marvelous cook …wonderful servant …perfect with children.”
I met her in town. She was neat and clean, but what impressed me above and beyond all else was that she actually picked up her feet when she walked. I told her what we could afford to pay, but 1 promised her a raise with the advent of Jake.
Eliza grinned, showing two rows of gold teeth.
“I knows you can’t pay for what you ain’t got.”
Right away quick 1 bundled her into the car and drove to her Norwalk home to pick up her bags and her boy friend. He said he’d follow us out to Weston and learn the way. Eliza’s face grew longer with the miles. “So far out, I’m sorta scared,” she shivered. “Somebody might get me.” 1 assured her that wasn’t likely at all and told her about our regular house that’s two and a quarter miles nearer town. She looked slightly stunned when she saw the Reiner estate, but 1 explained we were only looking after it.
Eliza took over like a veteran, and what a dinner she served! Biscuits light as a feather-they’re really too fattening for us but I hate to spoil such a gesture. Pat simply glowed.
To celebrate our lonely Hallowe’en I had carved a pumpkin face, complete with ears, my most ambitious art project so far, and had bought’ doughnuts and cider for a witching midnight hour snack.
But after that dinner we both fell sound asleep before the fire and only woke up for long enough to climb the stairs to bed. Being parents certainly takes the old night-life spirit out of you.