Such thoughts just worsened her mood. She didn’t want to give up the Mickelson house and go back to the limited life she’d had before. She knew she was being selfish, and flirting with danger. She knew she should be putting her energies into improving life at the bungalow with Byron. But JJ had said he wasn’t staying long, so what was the harm in spending a little time at the house while he was in town? She still hoped she could convince JJ to sell it to Byron. A case of the ends justifying the means if ever there was one, since owning the Mickelson house would undoubtedly improve the Magnuson marriage.

To ease her conscience further, she decided she would stop bringing JJ home-cooked meals. Even if they were just Byron’s leftovers, it was too wifelike an act, now that she was getting attached to JJ. She would bring meat and bread from the store, and doughnuts for breakfast. She would not want to be accused of taking equally good care of a stranger and her husband.

As she neared the bungalow, Dolly fantasized about surrendering to her foul mood and flopping on the couch with her Cherry Ames novel and a big piece of chocolate cake to soothe her. But there were things there that needed tending to—of course! She decided she would cut corners on supper so she could finish her ironing before beginning cooking. She had been planning on stuffed cabbage rolls, but Hamburger-Tomato-Macaroni Medley would work just as well, and use many of the same ingredients, and it was much less time-consuming. Byron would never know the difference, and even if he did, he would probably be relieved to be spared the cabbage.

Once home, she headed straight for the basement, finished the rest of the ironing, then ran up to the kitchen to boil the macaroni, brown the hamburger, chop the onion, and open the can of tomatoes. By six-fifteen, the table was set and all the ingredients were mixed together and simmering on the stove. Since Byron wasn’t home yet, Dolly decided to try to get the meal planning and shopping list for the coming week done—it was tomorrow’s job, but if she could get it done tonight, she would have more time to spend at the Mickelson house. Leaning against the kitchen counter, she pulled the 1948 calendar from the drawer and randomly turned to September.

Thursday, she wrote in her notes, then copied the notation from the second Thursday of September on the old calendar: Breakfast (Byron): Poached eggs on toast, grapefruit. Lunch (Byron): Meat sandwich, banana, cookie. Lunch (Dolly): Carrot sticks, raisins, banana. Dinner: Meatballs with sauerkraut, creamed potatoes, green beans, whole wheat bread with butter.