The following is a continuation of a story from the fall edition of
the magazine.
April 26th, 1951
After making sure that my hair was in place, my dress was
immaculate, and the house was in order, I turned to my dresser to pick
out the finishing touches. I grabbed the necklace Mother gave me for my
birthday and put it on without thinking. On second thought, I tucked it
under my dress and grabbed my favorite pearl necklace, putting that over
top. I loved that necklace, and I loved my mother, but there is a time and
a place for that necklace and this is neither the time nor the place. This is
my first house party since I had my baby daughter, Mary. I am just elated
to finally be having people over. I’ve invited only my closest friends,, and
I’ve just been in a tizzy trying to make this house look pristine.
I allow myself one last look in the mirror to make sure everything is
in order before checking on the food and beverages. They should be
arriving any minute now. My stomach feels like it has a bunch of
butterflies as I bring Mary’s stroller out into the living room. Taking her
out, I make sure the little outfit she’s wearing is just right. The doorbell
rings and I rush to get it. Before I open the door, I take a deep breath
and compose myself. I open the door and am greeted by the high-pitched
squeals of Dorothy Pearce, Margaret Kendrick, and Joyce Newell.
“Virginia!” Dorothy screams, giving me a hug that very nearly cuts off
my supply of oxygen. “Virginia, it’s been too long!”
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