The Housewife

My manicured fingers tear at the package wrapped in brown paper. Curiosity charges my swift movements. The final rip reveals a white hard back? Oh I see, the back of a book! Excitement courses as this is the first present I’ve received as Mrs James Williams. It may even be a wedding present! I turn over the book and its face displays, “Guide To Perfection As A New House Wife”. Supporting the spine, I flip to the first page and my mothers handwriting appears. Warmth spills into my chest at the recognition. The message, “My darling girl. You’ll be perfect.”, is hugged by a red inked heart. Attempting to avoid tearing up, I sit myself down and begin to educate myself before James comes home.

The Housewife

Written by Charlotte Forbes

1951, America

For all you folks in the audience, here is a brief catch up on 1950’s slang:

Agitate the gravel - to leave quickly

Apple butter - smooth talk

Blanket - sandwich

Bundie - a man in need of a haircut

Fat city - a happy or great situation

Flutter bum - an attractive man

Gringles - worried

Moldy - a bad or mean teacher

Panic and a half - a funny joke

Razz my berries! - impress me!

Wig chop - haircut

My eyes shift to the clock and notice it is already four! Oh my, where has the time gone. James will be home for the first time at five, promptly! I suck in a deep breath and exhale slowly. Go over the rules, I relay to myself.

1. Prepare yourself for him. Touch up on makeup and take a fifteen minutes rest so I look put together.

2. Have dinner ready. He has been working all day, he would love to walk in and eat his home cooked meal.

3. Clear away all clutter, his house must be tidy for him.

4. Minimise all noise, so his eating is not interrupted, as he is tired from his nine to five job.

5. Do not, ever, greet your husband with complaints. He does not care. Sort them yourself.

6. Listen to him. Make him feel important and heard and valued.

I race up to our room, and touch myself up in the circular mirror. I apply my blush, which is very natural looking if I may toot my own horn. I dab on a little more lip gloss with my index finger, and feel complete. My hair has been done prior, and I have my finest outfit on. My baby pink dress with white polka dots. I really hope James likes my figure, as the dress accentuates my waist and chest without giving too much away if you know what I mean. And my hoop skirt makes me look young and fun at the same time. “Deborah, relax.” I affirm aloud in the mirror. “He thinks you look darling.”. Now that I have completed 1, I must quickly move to 2. My black pumps click on the floor as I move across the linoleum of the kitchen. I reach for my apron hanging off the red steel chair from our dining table. I wrap it around my waist, and my nude coloured nails form a bow. I flit through the pages of the cookbook until I locate Baked Ham with Pineapple. This one is really going to razz his berries! I conducted a search for my ingredients, 6 pounds of cooked bone-in ham, whole cloves, 20 ounces of sliced pineapple, ½ a cup of brown sugar and 12 maraschino cherries. Diligently following the steps I begin to hum to myself the new Les Baxter song, Because of you. I sway my hips a little, and begin to dance as I cook and, oh no! I spun and dropped the ham! God, look at the time, look at the mess, look at the time! It's four twenty seven! God gringles are getting to me, but I won’t let them! I bend down to clean up the ham debacle, and the squeak of the door sounds. My eyes race to the wooden door, and I see a tall figure begin to enter. His black shoes encased his knee length white socks. They reveal his tan knee slightly, his thigh loosely held by his high waisted navy shorts. Held up above his slim torso by a tan belt. He’s such a flutter bum in his baby blue plaid button up. My admiration is cut short by his confused tone: “Deborah?”. I am stumped, at a loss for words so I sit there like a stunned mullet.

“Darling what happened?”, he rushes over and kneels beside me. He caresses my cheek in his hand.

“I was trying to make you a nice dinner like the book said! Why are you even home now? I thought you came home at five o'clock?”

“Well my love, I wanted to surprise you. There are some flowers at the door to match your gorgeous eyes. But bugger that, are you okay and what book?”

“The damned book mother gifted me in the wretched brown wrapping. It told me what to do to be a good wife to you.”

“That sounds moldy! I love you, and you are a brilliant wife to me already. I want to ensure your happiness as your husband so I am disposing of the vile thing. Now it seems like we cannot have the ham for dinner, but what if we made some blankets? Together?” A wry smile covers my face. He has the most gorgeous blue eyes, and his hair is terribly handsome despite him being a total bundie.

“I would adore that.”

His pink lips lean in, and my full ones meet his. We share a sweet long kiss on the linoleum floor.