“No, Mrs. Purdy,” Joan said in the same meek voice.
The burgers arrived, and the tension around the table eased, but as soon as we had all taken our first bites Mrs. Purdy turned her attention back to me.
“So, Mandy,” she said in a voice so sweet it reminded me of a cup of coffee into which I had put way too much artificial sweetener, at breakfast the morning after Rick’s and my wedding night. “You see, it’s perfectly normal for a girl to feel some embarrassment—and, frankly, a good deal of physical discomfort—when her husband decides to assert his rights and enjoy her that way. But you—and these other wonderful ladies…” Mrs. Purdy bestowed a saccharine smile all around the table, “wouldn’t be here if an old-fashioned marriage to an older man weren’t the best thing for them.”
I managed to finish chewing on my bit of that heavenly burger—where did Rocky Falls get their beef? From cows that lived in the same lap of luxury its citizens did. I kept my eyes on my plate and tried to concentrate on the flavors—the browned crust, the perfectly sour pickle, the slightly sweet special sauce. That proved a serious tactical error in my ongoing mental conflict, though.
The brat took the opportunity of the rest of me trying to enjoy the burger to use my mouth without my rational brain’s permission. I spoke without even thinking once I had swallowed my bite.
“According to Selecta.”
The bratty side of me, I realized as I heard April gasp next to me, hadn’t just forced the defiant words out my lips; it had also selected the deeply, darkly sarcastic tone in which they had emerged.
My heart quailed and my cheeks burned, but my defiance seemed completely unwilling to calm itself. I felt like I had entered a fight for the honor not just of me but also of the other oppressed wives around the table, subjected not just to their husbands’ authority but to that of this horrid, insincere agent of the New Modesty. I looked up into Mrs. Purdy’s still sweetly smiling face.
“According to Selecta and the New Modesty’s acclaimed scientific model,” she said.
“Acclaimed by who?” I demanded, my voice rising a little. I saw two pretty women—more young, submissive wives, undoubtedly—across the room turn to look.
“Mandy, dear,” Mrs. Purdy said. “You should discuss this matter with Mr. Williams, I think. I’ll let him know you’re so concerned about it that it made you forget your manners.”
My jaw dropped as my heart started to pound wildly in my chest.
April spoke, “Mrs. Purdy, I’m sure she didn’t really mean…”
“April,” said the older woman, “did Mandy raise her voice or not?”
I spoke, managing to keep my volume in check. “I did, fine, but… I’m sorry, I mean…”
Mrs. Purdy turned to me. Her smile had vanished. “Did I address you, Amanda Williams?”
For a moment I couldn’t do anything but breathe in and out through my parted lips, close to hyperventilation.
“No,” I finally whispered. The woman’s dark eyes narrowed. To my distress, I knew immediately why. “No, Mrs. Purdy,” I said.
April was spared the necessity of answering the original question, at least. I heard Rick’s voice from behind me, and at the same moment I saw Scott Dennison and a handsome middle-aged man who must be Joe Stevens come into view as they moved to stand behind their own wives.
“There you are,” Rick said, putting his big hands on my shoulders and giving them a gentle rub. I could hear an ease in his tone and feel it in his grip; an impression that seemed to me somehow both reassuring and worrisome. Reassuring, because I loved him, and I wanted him to be happy—and I wanted him to be in a good mood right now especially. Worrisome, because that must mean he felt even more comfortable in Rocky Falls than he had the previous night.
And that comfort will come at the expense of yours, won’t it?the brat in my brain said.
“Here I am,” I said lamely.
“Here she is,” said Mrs. Purdy. “And I’m afraid to say that Amanda has unfortunately shown a lack of manners in the last few moments.”
I couldn’t see him, and I couldn’t figure out whether I wanted to or, on the contrary, I felt grateful not to have to watch the expression on his face change. When he spoke from behind and above me, his voice sounded grave. Suddenly I desperately didn’t want to see his face because I needed to know whether he meant the serious tone or maybe—if I were lucky—he had actually decided to pretend to go along with Mrs. Purdy’s horrid ideas, or even to make fun of her. To spare me any sort of scene, anyway… or at least just spare me more of a scene than Mrs. Purdy had already created.
“Well,” Rick said, “we’ll have to discuss that, won’t we?”
I managed to raise my eyes and look at Mrs. Purdy then. She had fixed her own attention on Rick, and she wore a simpering smile that said as forcefully as any words could that in Rocky Falls the husband always knew best.
And he does, doesn’t he?whispered the observer inside me.
No, he definitely does not, answered the brat.
“That sounds like the best thing, Mr. Williams,” said Mrs. Purdy sweetly. “A thorough discussion and any consequences you judge appropriate for Amanda’s lapse in manners. Manners are important here in Rocky Falls, you know.”
The older woman lowered her eyes for a moment to gaze into mine. her smile became just a little sweeter and thus even less sincere. I read in her face her utter confidence that Selecta had figured me out completely—that the New Modesty knew what was best for me. Butterflies filled my tummy. Could I truly say that she had it wrong? That Selecta hadn’t learned about all my most shameful desires long before I had?