Janet could only show that book to Marie, it could change everything.
Still, she should never have sent the letter.
She’d been so foolish, to dream of writing a book of her own. To scrawl out that letter with all her silly, immature questions for Mrs. Wood. To address it to the publisher listed on the book’s cover and drop the envelope into the mailbox, as though it were as simple a matter as sending in for a catalog.
Downstairs, she heard the front door open, then close again. “Janet! Come back down!”
At the sound of her mother’s voice Janet scrambled to her feet, shoving the book back into its hiding place. She winced as she felt the cover bend. “Coming, ma’am!”
Only then did Janet remember she’d said she had to work tonight. Mom would wonder why she hadn’t already changed into her uniform. She tried to think of another lie—she’d checked her schedule upstairs and realized she wasn’t working that night after all; there, that one was simple enough—but all thoughts of lies and excuses left Janet’s mind when she reached the bottom of the staircase and saw Marie in the foyer, smiling at her now-apronless mother and fiddling with the strap of her purse.
A delicious thrill ran through Janet all the way to her toes. She wished she’d thought to reapply her lipstick.
Marie looked as she always had, with each dark curl in place, her glasses polished to a gleam. Yet she looked older than usual, too, somehow. Her suit was neat, the skirt perfectly tailored where its hem fell around her calves. The jacket was a matching blue flannel, and the string of pearls her parents had given her for her eighteenth birthday was wound around her neck.
Janet had never seen her friend look so much like a real grown-up. A lovely grown-up, at that.
“There you are, Janet.” Mom turned from Marie with a lingering smile of her own. Janet’s mother had always been fond of Marie. She talked about her using words like stable and settled. Especially when she sought to admonish Janet.
Janet ignored her and bounced toward Marie. “I’m so glad you came! I have so much to tell you.”
“It’s been ages, hasn’t it?” Marie’s smile was wide enough to match Janet’s own. “I’m terribly sorry I missed your call this morning. I was at an interview.”
“An interview.” Janet’s eyes drifted down to Marie’s neat suit. She flushed. “Of course.”
“I’ve been so nervous.” Marie smiled, and fumbled again with her purse. “It’s wonderful to see you, though.”
“Marie has the most exciting news.” Mom held out a hand, ushering them into the living room. She didn’t approve of dawdling in the foyer. “I’ll bring you girls some refreshments.”
Mom left for the kitchen, where she could still overhear every word they said. Even so, as Janet and Marie took seats on the sofa, Janet leaned in close and said, “I was just looking at our photo from the cheerleading squad last year. I remember that as if it was yesterday.”
“Do you?” Marie smiled. She looked even more sophisticated from this distance. “It seems like a hundred years ago to me.”
Janet’s smile began to fade.
“There we are.” Mom set down a tray of chocolate chip cookies and two glasses of milk, sitting primly in the armchair opposite the cold brick fireplace. “Now, Marie, I simply can’t wait one moment longer to hear what Janet thinks of your news.”
“Well, then, what’s your news, Marie?” Janet wished Dad were here, so they could smile together at this ostentatious etiquette. Mom treated every visitor like President Eisenhower.
Laughter sparkled behind Marie’s eyes, too, but, ever demure, she didn’t let it reach her lips. “I’ve been offered a job, just today. I’m going to be a typist at the Department of State!”
“Marie!” Janet clapped her hands. “That’s marvelous! That’s the kind of job we all dreamed of having, do you remember?”
“Of course.”
Any sort of government work had seemed glamorous to the girls of St. Paul’s Academy. Their mothers had all gone to work as “government girls” during the war, of course, but they’d retired once the men came home. These days only the most elite girls, those capable of passing stringent tests and maintaining the highest personal decorum, were hired to work as government secretaries and typists. Janet’s own distant ambition, of studying journalism in college and working for a newspaper or magazine someday, was far less exciting.
Working for the State Department was perhaps the most prestigious government position of all, surpassed only by working in the White House itself. At the State Department, a girl might meet a famous ambassador or foreign film star. Perhaps there might be a need to travel overseas, to take dictation for an important summit in Paris or Rome, or even some far-flung country like China.
It was all temporary, of course. The true goal, spoken of only through happy whispers over cafeteria lunches, was to meet a government man with an impressive job of his own, perhaps one with a title like director or even undersecretary. Once you were married, you’d leave your job to set up housekeeping so you’d be ready when the children came along.
Of course, though, it was far too early for Marie and Janet to think about any of that.
“Well, I’m not surprised,” Janet said, still beaming. “Didn’t you have the highest marks of all the girls coming out of school?”
Marie cast down her eyes. “Thank you, Janet. I was hoping we could go out tonight to celebrate, but your mother said you’re working.”
“Oh, no, I’m not. Let’s go celebrate!” When Mom raised her eyebrows, Janet hastily added, “Sorry, ma’am, I was confused about my schedule. May I please have permission to go out with Marie?”
“Certainly.”
“Wonderful! If we leave now we can catch the streetcar pulling in.”
Marie rose instantly, nodding toward the untouched milk glasses. “Thank you for the refreshments, Mrs. Jones.”
“Of course.” Mom’s plastered-on smile stayed firm as she eyed Janet’s plain blouse and jeans. “Janet, Marie and I will wait here while you change.”
Janet longed to be out the door, but her mother was right. Janet rarely wore much makeup, and most days she preferred Bermudas and button-downs to frills and fashion, but no restaurant in Georgetown would let her in for dinner wearing pants. “I’ll be fast, I promise.”
She ran upstairs, exchanged her jeans for a simple plaid skirt and stockings, and ran back down. Mom eyed her again, probably wishing Janet had at least taken the time to run a comb through her short blond curls, but all she said was, “You girls have a lovely evening. Marie, please do send your mother my regards.”
“I will, ma’am, thank you.”
Janet grabbed her purse, took Marie by the arm and pulled her out the door before her mother could launch into a new round of pleasantries. The streetcar was already clanging as it approached the end of their block, and the girls had to run. Marie’s high heels made her stumble,
