“No, I don’t, Mrs. Sparks. I wish I did. Believe me.”
“Oh. I thought if anyone knew it would be you . . . ”
Vita looked at her very carefully. “Did you know about your husband and me?”
“Oh yes.”
“For how long?”
“From the beginning, I guess. Hamm was not the subtlest of men.”
“And you never said anything?”
“No. But please don’t think I’m a saint, I’m not. It nearly killed me. I cried over it, I prayed about it, but you can’t make a person stop loving another person just by telling them to stop. If I had, he would have resented me the rest of his life. It was a problem with no solution or at least none I could think of. Oh, there was a time I thought about leaving him, and I should have, I guess. But I knew a divorce would have ruined his career, so I made the decision not to leave and I adjusted to it.” She looked at the brandy glass. “I think this stuff has cured my hiccups. And of course I kidded myself that if I ran for governor for him he might have to depend on me. And I hoped that maybe one day he would get over you. But I think the real truth is I just didn’t have the courage to leave. I’m not a very brave person, Mrs. Green, and the thought of having to go out on my own and raise the children alone . . .”
Betty Raye took another drink of the brandy and made another face. “But there were times when I did wonder what you thought of me or if you ever thought of me or if you were trying to get him to leave me. Of course, when I met you and saw how beautiful and smart you were, I could understand why he fell in love with you. I couldn’t blame him, really. I mean, you were everything I wasn’t. I even wondered if you hated me for not leaving him. . . . Did you?”
Vita got up and walked across the room to the bar and fixed herself a strong drink and after a moment said, “No, I didn’t hate you. The truth is that I never thought about you.”
“I see,” said Betty Raye.
“Now that I think back, it wasn’t so much that I didn’t care, it was just that I couldn’t afford to think about you. I suppose if any woman having an affair with a married man ever really stopped to think about the man’s wife and what it was doing to her, she would not be able to keep doing it. I didn’t even have the excuse that most have that the wife is terrible. I knew you weren’t terrible but what I didn’t know was just how well you did understand him.”
She came back over and sat down. “I think there are some things I do need to tell you. First of all, I never wanted to marry him. I am not the wife type and, believe me, I never wanted children. It’s you that should hate me. I’m the thief. I stole what should have been yours. I had the best of him and just gave you what was left over.”
Betty Raye smiled a little. “Well, in a way I feel I got the best of him. I have the boys. But the truth is, as much as he loved you and loved me . . . the children even . . . none of us ever really had him. Politics was his real love. We all came second to that.”
Vita acquiesced. “Maybe you’re right.”
Betty Raye knew she should leave. There was really nothing more to say. But for some reason she just sat there, unable to move. She kept looking at Vita as if she did have something more to say but she did not know what it was.
Vita wondered what was the matter with her, just sitting there looking so troubled. And then a thought occurred. She leaned over, took Betty Raye’s hand, and looked her in the eyes. “Mrs. Sparks, do you need help?”
A relieved Betty Raye grabbed her hand and blurted out, “Oh God, yes, yes, I do. . . . I don’t know what I am doing half the time or who to ask and without Hamm I’m scared to death. I know how smart you are and how much he depended on you. Oh, Mrs. Green, would you consider being my adviser?”
“First of all, it’s Vita and I will be happy to help you in any way I can, Mrs. Sparks.”
“Oh thank you, Vita—and it’s Betty Raye, please.”
They stood up and Vita walked her to the door. “So when would you like to get together again? Lunch tomorrow, say around one?”
“To tell you the truth, Vita, I don’t think I can wait that long,” Betty Raye said. “How about breakfast, say around eight?”
Vita laughed. “I’ll be there.” Vita did not usually like women but this one she liked. This little brown wren had more guts and heart than anyone had suspected. As they walked down the hall, Vita put her arm in Betty Raye’s and said, “You know, Betty Raye, I think this might be the beginning of a beautiful relationship.”
How Did You Meet Your Best Friend?
Neighbor Dorothy rushed down the hall calling out to Mother Smith, “I found it,” and ran in and sat down at her desk just as the red light went on. “Good morning, everybody, I have so many things for you today. We have a winner in our How Did You Meet Your Best Friend Contest . . . but first let me tell you what I forgot to mention yesterday. Give me a little Indian music, please, Mother Smith. We got a letter from the Goodnight sisters all the way from Oklahoma . . . and they sent us a photograph. I wish you could see it, they both have on feather bonnets and are standing beside a real Indian. They write, ‘Hello from the land of the red man. . . . We have just been adopted by Chief . . .’ well, I can’t make out the name . . . ‘and we are now members of the Miami Indian tribe. . . . We are on our way to a powwow. Wish you were here. Ada and Bess Goodnight . . . now known as . . . Princess Laughing Bird and Little Thunder.’ I tell you, those gals are fearless . . . no telling what they will be up to next. . . . But I can tell you what we are up to.
“Miss Virginia Mae Schmitt, our special guest all the way from Dale, Indiana, is here to sing a cute little novelty song for all you singles out there entitled ‘I’m Living Alone, and I Like It.’ But, before we get to our song, I want all you men listening to leave the room because I have a special announcement just for the ladies. Girls, make sure they are not listening . . . and Doc, I know you have the radio on down at the drugstore, so just turn it off for two minutes . . . and I mean it. Bertha Ann, go back behind the counter and make sure he does.” At the Rexall, Bertha Ann looked to see where Doc was and reached behind her and turned the radio down. “Well . . . Father’s Day is here again . . . and if you are anything like me, every year I wrack my brain trying to figure out just what to get Doc. Men . . . aren’t they just the hardest creatures in the world to buy for? But this year I think I have come up with a good one that you might want to think about yourself. You know how Doc loves his tools, so this year we are giving him a gift certificate to Warren’s Hardware store—so he can go pick out exactly what he wants. Just call Macky and he said he would be happy to make you out one for any amount.”
After her guest had sung, Dorothy came back on. “Thank you, Virginia Mae. I’m sure all you single gals out there enjoyed that one. And now without further ado, on to our winning letter. Mrs. Joni Hartman of Bible Grove, Missouri, writes:
“Dear Neighbor Dorothy,
“We have a lot of squirrels here in Bible Grove and they are always dropping acorns out of the trees. One day I was watching as a stranger walked past my house when a squirrel dropped a large acorn out of the tree and hit her on the head. She fell down thinking somebody shot her. I went out and told her she had been hit in the head by an acorn. I invited her in and gave her an aspirin and found out she worked for the Internal Revenue Service—that was the reason she thought somebody had shot her. She quit her job right after that and now has a good job working in the dead-letter department in Washington, D.C., and we correspond regularly.