Free Mrs. Lieutenant: A Sharon Gold Novel by Phyllis Zimbler Miller Page B

"Puerto Rico is a
commonwealth of the United States. All men in Puerto Rico over the
age of 18 are subject to the draft the same as in the U.S. My
father was too young to be drafted in World War II. He joined the
army as soon as he turned 18."
    Do Southerners classify Puerto Ricans the
same as blacks? Sharon doesn’t want to find out just now. "Don't we
have to go?" Sharon asks Kim.
    "I do too," Donna says. "I'll see you both at
the meeting tomorrow."
    "Her English is so good," Kim whispers as
Donna walks away.
    "Maybe they didn't even speak Spanish at home
when she was growing up," Sharon says. "Becoming 'real' Americans
may have been the most important thing."
    Oh for heaven sakes! How stupid can Sharon
be! She said the word "real" with quotes in her mind, but Kim's not
a mind reader. Has Sharon just reinforced another of Kim's
stereotypes?
    **
    "He won't stay long," Robert says to Sharon
that evening as he gets up from the couch to answer the
doorbell.
    Robert has already explained why he invited
Len Tottenham. A Michigan farm boy, Len had been a college
suitemate of Robert’s before Len dropped out of school and
enlisted. "I thought you didn't like him," Sharon said when Robert
first told her that Len was coming over. In response Robert said,
"This gives him a chance to get away from the barracks, and we can
afford to be gracious."
    In preparation for his visit Sharon had
gotten out her crewelwork canvas – stretched over an embroidery
frame – with its unfinished section of French knot flowers. "I'll
work on my needlework while you entertain him."
    "Hi, buddy," Robert says to a gangly man in
rumpled fatigues with an enlisted rank – which one Sharon can't
tell – sewn on both sleeves. "Come on in."
    Len's shaved hair barely hints at its
blondness above dark eyes and a prominent nose. He shakes Robert's
extended hand and nods in Sharon's direction.
    "Would you like something to drink?" Robert
asks, motioning to the armchair.
    "Beer, if ya have any."
    Robert shakes his head. "How about some
Coke?"
    "It'll have to do."
    He could have said thank you, that Coke would
be just fine.
    Sharon and Len sit without speaking until
Robert returns with the Coke.
    "Hey, Rob, couple of Jew boys in my
unit."
    She pricks her finger with the needle. Blood
droplets sprinkle the white canvas.
    "Now, Len, I taught you better than that,"
Robert says.
    "Yeah, yeah."
    Sharon has heard some of the things Len said
about Jews when he and Robert first were suitemates. Then Robert
"educated" him. In her book Len's attitude certainly would not have
won him an invitation to their apartment.
    "So what's going on?" Robert asks. "Thinking
of making the army a career?"
    Len shrugs. "What else I got to do,
especially after getting my insides all busted up over in Nam."
    Robert has already warned her not to mention
Vietnam. As if she doesn't know not to.
    Now Robert says, "That 20 year or 30 year
pension sounds pretty good. There are a lot worse things."
    Len's eyes darken and his mouth pulls down.
Is he thinking about men he saw die in Vietnam?
    Then his face relaxes. "Yeah."
    "Have you heard from any of the other MSU
guys?" Robert asks.
    "Ol' Pete. Got himself some great big deer on
a hunting trip..."
    Sharon tunes Len out and leans over the
crewelwork, wrapping the burnt orange thread into petite French
knots. When she finishes this still life she'll have it framed in
dark wood. Some day the picture will hang on the wall of a dining
room furnished with a polished cherry wood table large enough for
12 and matching chairs upholstered in dark green brocade.
    A half hour later Robert stands at the door
shaking Len's hand. "Thanks for coming by," Robert says.
    Sharon rises to be polite. The embroidery
frame catches on her short skirt, pulling it up to her waist.
    She grabs at her skirt as Len's eyes sweep up
her thighs to her exposed undies-clad crotch.
    "See ya around," he says, his eyes on her
body.
    She hopes
not.

SHARON – V – May
18
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