took her seat at the window. Those women down in the street with their kids, now—they were probably busy every minute. No time to hope or fear or anything else. She knew now that babies got orange juice. The mothers on this street attended to a great many of their children's needs outdoors.
The trim, clean little Essex drove up to the door and Lillian jumped up and waved eagerly to Theresa. She was deeply touched by Theresa's kindness and quiet faithfulness. She had a hard way about her. She wouldn't lie to save your feelings like some people would, but she was there when you needed her.
Theresa came in and pushed her hat up off her forehead. It balanced itself at a crazy angle and made Theresa look like an imbecile. "Gee, it's hot," she said.
"You can sing that," Lillian agreed. "I was down to pay my electric bill and when I came back I jumped right in a cold bath."
"That's what I'm going to do when I get home. I just stopped in to say hello."
"What have you been doing?"
"Not a thing. Too damn hot."
"You said it. We went to the movies last night. We saw Harold Lloyd. He was funny. Cliff and Anna were there."
"Speak to them?"
"Go on. I'm not going to make people talk to me if they don't want to. Have you seen them lately—or the Fishers?"
"I saw Louise last night. She came over and borrowed some forks. She's giving a party tonight."
