Mrs. Lieutenant: A Sharon Gold Novel by Phyllis Zimbler Miller

and universities reportedly closed
or under strike in response to Kent State shootings ... May 10,
1970
    “ In military circles it is wrong to be
‘fashionably late.’” Mrs. Lieutenant booklet
    Sharon sets the plate of chocolate chip
cookies baked this morning down on the Formica-topped coffee table.
The oven has heated up the small apartment, and the air conditioner
struggles unsuccessfully to cool the temperature. Yet she doesn't
want to serve store-bought cookies – "home-baked is more
hospitable" her mother always says.
    Sharon is excited about her idea for the
graduation luncheon entertainment. The proverbial light bulb
exploded minutes after she returned to the apartment yesterday
afternoon. Will the others like her idea?
    The doorbell rings. Sharon re-tucks the hem
of her white sleeveless blouse into the waistband of her blue
cotton skirt and opens the door to Kim. Despite the heat and the
walk around the block from her apartment, Kim looks cool in a
sleeveless flower-print shift.
    "Smells like cookies," Kim says.
    Sharon smiles and motions Kim to the sofa.
"How about some pop? You must be thirsty."
    "That would be great."
    Before Sharon can get the pop bottles out of
the refrigerator, the doorbell rings again. Both Donna and Wendy
stand outside.
    "Did you come together?" Sharon asks.
    "Just landed on your doorstep at the same
time," Donna says.
    Wendy, who wears pale green pants and a
short-sleeved white blouse, takes a seat on the single armchair and
pushes her short black hair out of her face. Donna, wearing a plaid
short-sleeved dress, sits down next to Kim on the couch.
    "This is a nice apartment complex," Wendy
says. "We tried to rent a unit here."
    "What happened?" Donna asks.
    "The clerk at the housing office thought an
apartment was still available. When we drove over here the manager
told us it was already rented."
    Sharon stands still with the pop bottles in
her hands. Wendy has said this with no accusation in her voice.
    Sharon flashes to the post housing office.
The friendly housing clerk explains how she hadn't told Robert and
Sharon about this unit earlier in the day because she thought it
had been taken.
    Sharon leans over and places the bottles on
the coffee table. Had the clerk sent Wendy and her husband to see
this apartment not knowing that the shotgun-toting redneck manager
wouldn't rent to them? Because that's what must have happened.
    Sharon’s stomach does a flip flop as she
realizes that, because of racial discrimination, she and Robert got
this apartment. Then she reminds herself that there was no way she
and Robert could have known this at the time so she doesn’t need to
feel guilty.
    "Please, everyone, help yourself to soda pop
and cookies," she says. “And thanks for coming. I hope this is
going to be fun."
    Donna laughs, her black hair bouncing against
her shoulders. "At least it will be something to do. There's not a
lot going on around here."
    "Where are you all from?" Wendy asks
Donna.
    Donna laughs again. "From an equally boring
place. I was at Ft. Riley living with my parents – I'm an army brat
– when I met my husband. Believe me, Kansas is not any more
exciting than Kentucky."
    "I know about Ft. Riley – my husband went to
ROTC summer camp there," Sharon says. "You must have lived all over
the world if your father was in the army."
    Donna nods. "We lived in Germany, in Korea.
When I was little we lived in Hawaii. And I've been to Puerto Rico
to visit several times."
    "I'd never been out of North Carolina before
we came here,” Kim says. “I can't believe all the places you've
lived in."
    Wendy rustles in her armchair. "I wasn't ever
out of South Carolina before my parents sent me to college in
Texas."
    Kim stares at the glass in her hand. Then she
looks straight at Wendy. "Whereabouts in South Carolina are you
from?"
    "Orangeburg. You probably never heard of
it."
    Kim shakes her head.
    "It's a nice enough place. My papa's a doctor
there."
    Sharon, surprised herself,