Well, he’d notice it tonight. He’d sure be surprised, since he wasn’t expecting any company, and most definitely not the company she had invited. And that was exactly how she wanted it.

Chapter 13

The doorbell rang and Vivian was right there to open the front door, with Edward’s words from the other night ringing in her ears: They don’t bother me much. But I’d never have them in my house. Out on the front porch, underneath the light, stood Maria and Dominic Tomasetti, looking shivery, polite, and a little nervous. The Guineas from Frogtown.

“Welcome!” Vivian cried, a little too loudly.

Maria handed a small white box to Vivian as Dominic removed his hat.

The familiarity Vivian felt with Maria at work did not extend beyond the confines of the Bell building. Without the switchboard and the cords and headsets and the hum of the connections, she suddenly felt self-conscious with Maria. Sitting next to her at the switchboard was one thing, or sharing a coffee in the kitchenette. But having the Tomasettis in the Dalton house was too far out of context. There was an awkward pause, and she wondered if she’d made a big mistake. It only took one look at Edward’s unpleasantly shocked face to reassure her it was worth it.

“Thank you so much for this invitation, Vivian,” Maria said, her movements halting with the same kind of uncertainty Vivian was showing, but Dominic guided her forward across the Daltons’ threshold.

Edward had risen from his chair, but was unable to hide his surprise. That’s right, Vivian thought as she looked at him, something a little unpleasant that you weren’t expecting? Caught you off guard, did it? You sonofabitch. Charlotte, in her coral dress with her hair pulled back away from her face, moved quickly to approach the Tomasettis with an outstretched hand.

“Hi, I’m Charlotte. It’s very nice to meet you.”

Every once in a while Vivian saw Charlotte wince when they said things like “Guinea” or “nigger.” Vivian didn’t know where Charlotte got her highfalutin attitude from, like she was above it all; probably from other kids at the high school, or from those books she always had her nose in.

“Mrs. Tomasetti, I just love your spaghetti sauce recipe! Mother made it this week.”

Maria Tomasetti looked uncomfortable, and glanced down at her shoes. “Thank you.”

Charlotte took Mr. and Mrs. Tomasetti’s coats and hung them in the hall closet.

“Please,” Vivian cooed, her voice decreased to an inside-appropriate level. “Sit!”

The Daltons and the Tomasettis carefully arranged themselves on the living room furniture, pulling their faces into polite smiles.

“That’s a beautiful dress,” Maria said to Vivian. “And I love your brooch. Is it a chicken?”

“Rooster,” Vivian answered as she smoothed her palms over the skirt of the blue McCall’s dress, feeling pleased by both the compliment and the fact that she’d been able to repeat her grocery store outfit for the dinner.

“Ah.”

Vivian realized she should have switched on the radio just before they arrived. Background music would’ve made up for the lack of conversation. What would they possibly have to talk about with these complete strangers, and why hadn’t she thought of that before? She stood up from the sofa, before the cushion had even had time to warm under her backside.