Mrs. Lieutenant: A Sharon Gold Novel Read Online Free PDF Page B

been invited over at 8 this
evening by our next-door neighbors. They might be Jewish."
    Robert smiles. "Don't bet on it. Anyway, come
on, let's go to the post. We just have time to get your dependent's
ID card before the office closes for the day."
    She is about to officially become an
officer's wife.
    **
    They make tuna sandwiches for their first
dinner in their new apartment, having stopped by a grocery store on
Dixie Highway on the way back from the post. The army dependent ID
she got today can't be used at the army commissary until Robert
officially goes on active duty May 8th.
    After dinner Robert says, "And just don't
blabber away. You have to be careful what you say, particularly
about Vietnam."
    "What do you think I'm going to say? That I'm
against the war? That I don't want you to go there?"
    He kisses her. "Just remember we're playing
by a different set of rules now. And since we're the new kids on
the block, we'd better keep our mouths shut."
    She straightens her short skirt and checks
her blouse in the mirror. She has on a skirt because perhaps it is
incorrect to wear pants when making a social call. She hasn't put
on nylons with her sandals. Too hot.
    A second after Sharon and Robert knock,
Michael Grossman opens the door and invites them in. Sharon
suspects that, even with the television blaring, these neighbors
can hear well enough through the thin walls to know when she and
Robert left their apartment. Now neither Anne nor Michael turns the
television off or the volume down.
    Of medium height with dark hair and dark
eyes, Michael looks as if he could be Jewish. He gestures to the
television encased in its own mahogany cabinet.
    "Isn't it a beauty?" Michael says. "Everyone
in the complex loves it."
    The television flaunts a big screen –
probably the biggest she's ever seen.
    "Did you bring it from home?" Robert
asks.
    "Absolutely!" Anne says. "We told the army it
had to be shipped down here. We didn't care what else they shipped.
The television had to come."
    Sharon stares at the television. She hates
watching the news from Vietnam roll across the screen: The helmeted
soldiers in their splotched fatigues carrying their dead and dying
comrades in litters, running for helicopters that just as likely
won't make it to a field hospital in time. The images followed by
the usual announcements: How many have died today in Vietnam. What
new battle has brought the death toll of Americans even higher.
    How can these people want to see the battle
scenes on such a large screen, making the figures even more
lifelike? Are they really that removed from reality?
    She glances at Robert and remembers his
warning. She says, "We didn't ship anything. We didn't know the
army would ship anything for us."
    Anne and Michael stare at them as if they are
children. "Of course they have to ship some things. Didn't you find
out what you were entitled to?"
    Sharon and Robert look at each other, then
back at their hosts. They say no in unison. Their hosts' facial
expressions clearly say what they think of such imbecilic
behavior.
    "You're Jewish, aren't you?" Anne says. When
they don't answer immediately, she goes on, "Michael is Jewish, I'm
Catholic."
    What can possibly be a courteous response to
this admission? Sharon doesn't approve of "mixed marriages." Her
parents always told her and Howard that they had to socialize with
and marry Jews. What shall she say now to Anne? Michael saves her
from replying.
    He turns to Robert and says, "I'm working on
a medical discharge. I have some pulled tendons in my right knee –
I figure if I play this right, I can get out of the army now."
    Not have to go to Vietnam is what he means,
Sharon knows. She watches Robert's face. His expression doesn't
change and he says nothing.
    Michael now turns to Sharon, "What's your
favorite at this time of night?"
    It takes a moment to realize he means
television program.
    Two hours later Sharon and Robert lay naked
under the sheets, having survived watching Anne