Alice's Sensible Plan

a world war II bride breaks free.

 1948. Alice stood in front of the judge. She could see her mother's worn face (sad eyes) to the right, her two sisters staring solemnly at the floor to her left. She felt Frank's icy blue eyes burn into her back. Alice wondered what he might be thinking right now. Alice thought about the eggs she’d cooked him earlier, felt a sharp thrill when she thought of the note she'd tucked into Frank’s peacoat pocket right before climbing into the car for the courthouse. Had he read it yet? She couldn’t tell. Her thrill turned to nausea. What would he do when he read it? When he realized what was in him?

She stared up into Henry's long, waxy face and focused on his dull nose. She felt defeated again, knowing she shouldn't be here, and wouldn't be if Frank hadn't said what he'd said that day. She’d never have had to do it. Never would have had to cook up this recipe. Never would have to go to that motel last night. Never would have had to stand in these white shoes, in front of this judge, making promises she didn't mean.

The judge asked Henry for the ring and Alice stared at her shoes as it was placed it on her finger. White shoes. Comfortable pumps. Nurses might wear sensible shoes like these. Sensible is important. Nurses mattered. She’d never be one, she understood now, but she could dress like one. She could dress like one for the rest of her life. Frank would never take that from her. He could have everything else, but after today he’d never be able to tell her how to dress ever again.

Alice looked up at Henry, who was beginning to wipe at his forehead. She supposed Henry would get to do that now. Make all her choices for her.

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1943.  Alice decided five years ago, five years before agreeing to stand in a cold courtroom, wearing sensible shoes, on a sensible, grey winter wedding day, that she would like to be a nurse. Standish High had a career day--one for the girls, one for the boys. Alice listened on her day with great care, taking intense notes so she could seriously weigh her options later. She wanted to lay them all out in front of her, and figure out her first, then next, steps.

But she found herself bored by the homemaker, who just talked about planning weekly menus and getting the most for your money, now the rations were on and all. And she was certainly not at all impressed with the professional musician, a lady who talked about the piano lessons in her home she used as a means to keep herself occupied since her husband was off fighting the Japanese on a battleship somewhere in the Pacific. Alice sighed and looked out the window while all the girls cooed and asked a million questions about Mrs. Piano’s sailor man. And she rolled her eyes at the old lady who told the girls they could make wonderful money by simply knitting scarves and selling them at County Fairs. This was all Standish High had to offer its girls? Alice couldn’t think of a stupider, more useless way to spend one’s existence. She thought about the Rosie the Riveter poster stapled to a lightpost she passed on her walk home each day: where were all the girl riveters? Why had they not been invited to speak?

Then came Nurse Thewlis. Alice sat completely enthralled as Nurse Margaret Thewlis detailed what her daily rounds at the hospital each day were like, and talked about having served a bit in France fixing up wounded American boys. Blood and guts, war and hell. Alice chewed her pencil as Nurse Thewlis spoke, images swirling in her brain. She listened to the nurse's stories about what important work it was to help people get better.

Alice raised her hand and spoke loud, "Nurse Thewlis, what is the best part of your work?"

The nurse smiled. She looked Alice straight in the eye and said, "Oh. Why. Well, of course my favorite part is when I work with the children. It is always so nice to put a smile on a sick child's face."