“Oh, Vivian, I never listen in on other people’s conversations. We’re not supposed to do that, you know.”

Oh, for chrissakes. Vivian rolled her eyes up into her head. She could just picture Laura sitting there, with her eyes opened to their widest, like Betty Boop, and her spine straight as a lamppost. Laura sat up a little too straight, if you asked Vivian. It wasn’t like there were any men hanging around the switchboard room. Laura was lying about the not listening, but she was also right. They weren’t supposed to do that, you know. What would’ve happened if Vivian had never listened in on Betty Miller’s phone call? Would they still be here, in this mess? Or would she still be oblivious, and more or less happy?

Oblivious:

1: lacking remembrance, memory, or mindful attention

2: lacking active conscious knowledge or awareness—usually used with of or to

Oblivious was one thing, but she also wouldn’t have been legally married.

“Hello, Vi?”

“Well, hiiii, how are you?” Violet sounded tentative; careful and cautious, like she was afraid of breaking something just by speaking.

“Have you heard?” Vivian asked, wanting to know just how much she’d have to explain.

“Yes, Vivy, it’s just awful, I’m so sorry.”

“Well, there’s nothing else to be done now. We’re married again.”

Several seconds of silence passed.

“And you’re sure?” Violet finally said, speaking slowly. “You want to stay with him, even after all this?”

Violet had found herself a good man, and had no patience for the ones who weren’t.

“You know, Vivy,” she went on, “I liked Edward. I liked him all the way up until today. Now he’ll have to do a lot of work to get back into my good graces.”

Vivian almost smiled at that. Violet imagined herself as something of a lion, but Charlotte called her Aunt Kitty Cat.

“You’re sure you want to stay with him?” Violet repeated her question.

Vivian took a deep breath and blew a few stuttered bursts of air that almost became whistles. She was holding back tears.

“I thought about it,” (another deep breath) “but, Charlotte’s still in school, and we’ve lived in this house for so long. And we’ve been together so long. I don’t know, I just thought this would be easier.”

But then she wondered about the word “easier.” What was easier? She was just terrified at the idea of being alone. This cheese will not be standing alone, Edward! This cheese is going to take a sheep! Or the sheep will take a wife! Her mind was a tangled mass of thoughts and nothing was making sense. Cheese, sheep, easier, easier, eeeeeee.

“Is he there, at home, right now?”

“No. I told him to take Charlotte out to buy her some saddle shoes and take her for a malted.”

She’d felt awful about the way she’d told Charlotte. Just dumped it on her like a load of greasy gravy covering up a turkey. And right after she’d eaten the seven (six)–layer bars, the poor thing. That’d been bad. If she were a good mother she’d have had a present for her or something. What kind of present did you give your child when you told them everything they knew about their family was a lie? No matter what the present might’ve been, it would’ve just reminded Charlotte of the reason she’d gotten it. The whole thing gave Vivian such a headache.