Read Online Mrs. Lieutenant: A Sharon Gold Novel by Phyllis Zimbler Miller - Free Book Online
Authors: Phyllis Zimbler Miller
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reasons not to like her.
Kim doesn't have a lot of experience with
friends. Her foster parents hadn't encouraged her to invite friends
over. And she would have been too embarrassed to go to a friend's
house and never invite her back. She kept to herself in school and
came straight home afterwards to her chores and homework.
Kim and her sister had done everything
together, which meant not very much in a small town. Kim had been
able to keep the money made from babysitting other people's
children – caring for the foster parents' children was just one of
her regular tasks – so she and her sister went to the movies
sometimes. And they spent a lot of time in the library. It was a
safe place with no one asking them to do any chores. Both of them
read romance novels, dreaming of the day a pair of white knights
would ride off with them, taking them away forever from their
unhappy lives.
As a college man, two years older than she,
Jim had seemed to be that white knight for her. Just like in the
books he practically swept her off her feet. She had felt totally
protected by his love.
When they married and lived in student
housing, she didn't have a chance to meet any women friends. Then
it was okay, because she was busy with her job in the college's
biology department.
Here she has nothing to do. She doesn’t want
to be all alone day after day. Stuck without a car or a phone.
Sharon seems nice. And Jim wants to carpool with her husband.
After all, it is only for nine weeks. Kim has
put up with unhappy arrangements for a lot longer – almost her
whole life.
Kim swishes chocolate icing over the two cake
layers as a car stops right outside her first-floor apartment door.
Kim puts down the icing knife and walks to the door to kiss her
husband.
He follows her into the kitchenette. "Look at
that cake," he says, sticking his finger into the bowl of icing and
then licking his finger.
He gives her another kiss. "So what did you
do today, hon?"
Kim continues to ice the cake as she speaks.
"I went with Sharon to the PX. We saw some nice things there and it
was good to get out."
Actually, she is relieved that Sharon forced
her to leave the apartment even if the trip to the PX didn't go
that well. The shooting still bothers Kim. She doesn't want to
mention her fears to Jim because she doesn't want Jim asking more
questions – possibly finding out that the shooting happened because
the soldier bothered her. Jim might think she started up with the
soldier. Thank heavens the MPs haven't traced her and then come by
to ask questions.
She follows Jim back to the bedroom, where he
takes off his uniform. His high school football muscles still bulge
underneath his undershirt. She didn't know him in high school even
though their hometown has only one high school. Jim's parents sent
him to military boarding school in a nearby town – they thought the
discipline would be good – and those schools played football in a
different league. The boarding school hooked him on military
strategy games. He always had a game in progress in their married
student housing apartment. Now it is the same here.
"Dinner's ready," she says, then goes back to
the kitchenette, where Jim joins her.
"What's for dinner?"
"Fried chicken and homemade biscuits."
A parasitology major, Jim wrote his senior
thesis on parasites in pigs. He became convinced that pigs were
about the unhealthiest animals on this earth. Now he won't touch
pork. They have fried chicken a whole lot.
She sets the plate of hot food down in front
of him and puts another plate at her place. Then she sits down.
"Jews like blacks a whole lot, don't they?"
she asks as Jim forks the first mouthful.
He chews before answering. "What do you
mean?"
"Today at the PX, a black man held the door
for us just so he could stare at us. I told Sharon that he was
staring at us. She said he was just being polite holding the door
open."
Jim swallows his milk. "Now look, Kim, it's
not just Jews think that way.
Kim doesn't have a lot of experience with
friends. Her foster parents hadn't encouraged her to invite friends
over. And she would have been too embarrassed to go to a friend's
house and never invite her back. She kept to herself in school and
came straight home afterwards to her chores and homework.
Kim and her sister had done everything
together, which meant not very much in a small town. Kim had been
able to keep the money made from babysitting other people's
children – caring for the foster parents' children was just one of
her regular tasks – so she and her sister went to the movies
sometimes. And they spent a lot of time in the library. It was a
safe place with no one asking them to do any chores. Both of them
read romance novels, dreaming of the day a pair of white knights
would ride off with them, taking them away forever from their
unhappy lives.
As a college man, two years older than she,
Jim had seemed to be that white knight for her. Just like in the
books he practically swept her off her feet. She had felt totally
protected by his love.
When they married and lived in student
housing, she didn't have a chance to meet any women friends. Then
it was okay, because she was busy with her job in the college's
biology department.
Here she has nothing to do. She doesn’t want
to be all alone day after day. Stuck without a car or a phone.
Sharon seems nice. And Jim wants to carpool with her husband.
After all, it is only for nine weeks. Kim has
put up with unhappy arrangements for a lot longer – almost her
whole life.
Kim swishes chocolate icing over the two cake
layers as a car stops right outside her first-floor apartment door.
Kim puts down the icing knife and walks to the door to kiss her
husband.
He follows her into the kitchenette. "Look at
that cake," he says, sticking his finger into the bowl of icing and
then licking his finger.
He gives her another kiss. "So what did you
do today, hon?"
Kim continues to ice the cake as she speaks.
"I went with Sharon to the PX. We saw some nice things there and it
was good to get out."
Actually, she is relieved that Sharon forced
her to leave the apartment even if the trip to the PX didn't go
that well. The shooting still bothers Kim. She doesn't want to
mention her fears to Jim because she doesn't want Jim asking more
questions – possibly finding out that the shooting happened because
the soldier bothered her. Jim might think she started up with the
soldier. Thank heavens the MPs haven't traced her and then come by
to ask questions.
She follows Jim back to the bedroom, where he
takes off his uniform. His high school football muscles still bulge
underneath his undershirt. She didn't know him in high school even
though their hometown has only one high school. Jim's parents sent
him to military boarding school in a nearby town – they thought the
discipline would be good – and those schools played football in a
different league. The boarding school hooked him on military
strategy games. He always had a game in progress in their married
student housing apartment. Now it is the same here.
"Dinner's ready," she says, then goes back to
the kitchenette, where Jim joins her.
"What's for dinner?"
"Fried chicken and homemade biscuits."
A parasitology major, Jim wrote his senior
thesis on parasites in pigs. He became convinced that pigs were
about the unhealthiest animals on this earth. Now he won't touch
pork. They have fried chicken a whole lot.
She sets the plate of hot food down in front
of him and puts another plate at her place. Then she sits down.
"Jews like blacks a whole lot, don't they?"
she asks as Jim forks the first mouthful.
He chews before answering. "What do you
mean?"
"Today at the PX, a black man held the door
for us just so he could stare at us. I told Sharon that he was
staring at us. She said he was just being polite holding the door
open."
Jim swallows his milk. "Now look, Kim, it's
not just Jews think that way.
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