Labor Force Participation MChapter 4 His Victory
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Labor Force Participation - FChapter 4: His Victory free porn video
Carolyn Pierce enjoyed singing. Singing in the choir was a contribution to the church, but one she enjoyed. Sometimes, one cost of that contribution was that it separated her from Bill for every service. Just occasionally, one of the benefits to her was that it separated her from Bill. This, though, was not one of those Sundays. They had banished the word “Watergate” from any family discussion and never turned on the news when both were home. Between that and their shared happiness at her pregnancy, they had achieved peace.
When she came up from the choir-robe room to the October coffee hour, she searched the room for Bill. He’d already seen her and was carrying two plates towards a table at which they’d sit. When he set the plates down, one of his toddler favorites ran up to him, was lifted high and set down, and ran off somewhere else. He had her chair out and her plate in front of it by the time she got there. He seated her and sat himself.
Richard and Judy were at the table with their kids. Bill called the kids Marilyn and Pete in separate sentences early in the conversation. He knew that she wasn’t as conscious of kids and their names as he was -- even high-school kids, whom these seemed to be. They called her “Mrs. Pierce.” Even so, she suspected that she was closer to the kids’ ages than to their parents’.
When Grace announced the fall rummage sale, Carolyn thought of the stuff she’d never wear again. This was a good time to get rid of it, and a worthy place. The covers for the old twin bed, too. Belatedly, she saw that the announcement had caused some distress at her table. Marilyn was scowling.
“I tried to tell them, dear,” her mother said.
“If only they’d asked.”
“What’s wrong?” Bill asked. Good question.
“That Wednesday is MYF meeting night -- right here. They’re going to set up the rummage sale -- right here.” Yeah, Grace had mentioned a new set-up time. “If they’d asked, we could have moved our date. It would have been something we contributed, after all. Instead, they waited until after our last meeting to announce that they were taking over. MYF can’t even offer, ‘cause we don’t meet before that night.”
“Well, dear,” Judy said, “I only heard about it last night, myself. I pointed out that there was a conflict, and Grace said that she was sure that the MYF would be glad to cooperate.”
“If she’d asked, we would have.” her daughter said. “But now I have to call everybody and tell them. Tell them what? I’m not entitled to change the date or location without a vote.” This month, this table wasn’t going to be the friendly interchange that coffee hour was supposed to be. She could tell.
“I should get some things together for the sale,” she told Bill on the trip home. “Two pairs of jeans, for starters.”
“Would you mind waiting ‘til the next one?” That was an odd request.
“Bill, I’m never going to fit into those jeans again, let alone next spring.” Bill enjoyed her pregnancy and was reasonably considerate of the limits it imposed right now. Sometimes, he didn’t see the limits it was imposing on their future. To be honest, she, too, found herself making occasional assumptions about the future which didn’t include a kid.
“Yeah, but I don’t want to cooperate in any way with pushing kids around. That sucks.” That was Bill. Teens weren’t as important in his world-view as babies were, but he thought they deserved priority over adults.
“Well, I’m sure they didn’t mean anything. They just didn’t think.” And that might be Bill’s objection. He felt you should think about kids. Well, in some moral sense, he was right -- we’re all God’s children. And, practically, that feeling had given her some leverage with him. She was not only carrying a kid, she was carrying his kid. She could go along with this.
“Fine. Can you hold on to the things for one more season? We still have a large apartment.” That was another bit that would change in the future. They had a nice large apartment for a couple, one which afforded her a private office. It wouldn’t be that large an apartment for three.
“Sure,” she said.
Which was fine. Non-participation in evil -- even the evil of one church group taking precedence over the one Bill preferred -- was a moral tenet. And, in this situation, it was simple inaction.
But, after dinner, Bill went further. He showed her a letter to Grace saying that he wouldn’t help set up until the MYF meeting was over. With it was a cover letter to other men asking them to make the same commitment. Of course, Bill had never participated in set up. She doubted whether the others would have, either. Grace had, it is true, asked for men to volunteer to arrange tables, and the husbands of the UMW activists were fairly old.
“One thing I know. You don’t fight the UMW.” She’d been at Aldersgate for only a few years, but she’d been raised in Methodist churches.
“What are they going to do to me? Keep me off the finance committee?” Bill had a point. He had no interest in being anything in the church but an attendee.
“You don’t fight the UMW.” That was her last word, even so.
In the event, set-up was moved back to Thursday. Bill who’d practically promised to take part, changed into work clothes, rushed through his meal, and drove her to choir practice that night.
“Remember,” she said as she got out of the car, “I’ve left our bag of contributions in the back seat.”
“I’ll get them. No sense of taking rummage in there before the tables are set up.” There were a boy and a girl, Judy’s Marilyn, already there when she went through to the sanctuary and choir loft.
“Congratulate Bill for me -- at home.” Gladys whispered to her when she came in minutes later. She was active in UMW, the second-youngest member in the younger circle. She’d complained to Carolyn once about what that showed of the weakness of the UMW chapter. Any influence she hoped to have depended on discretion in what she said.
Coming down from the rehearsal, they saw that the tables were all set up. Carolyn had wanted Bill from before the first kiss. She had never needed him. She was an independent woman with a career and an education which was finally nearing completion. What she realized when she saw Bill talking with a teen-age girl is that she now needed him. She was pregnant and didn’t want to be an unwed mother. The thought quickly followed a pang of jealousy.
Approaching more closely, she saw that the jealousy was misplaced. Bill was talking to two teenagers, and they were looking everywhere but at each other. She turned her misplaced feeling into a joke.
“Hah. Should have known, let you alone for a few minutes, and I find you talking with a pretty girl.”
“I think Dan’s lurking in the car, Gladys.” Bill said while he thought of his answer to her. “Andy’s here too, dear. I’m not just talking to Marilyn.” He was keeping up his rule of mentioning kids’ names in ways that didn’t sound -- except to her -- as though he thought she didn’t remember them. And, while she remembered Marilyn after her near-breakdown at the last coffee hour, she couldn’t have guessed Andy’s name in a million years.
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