Chapter 3
“I’m here,” she announces, wearing a bubblegum pink-and-navy polka dotted long-sleeve housedress with heels and stockings. Hair blow-dried. Sobered. All the women inside Schlafly’s newsletter room stop and stare at Alice Macray with mixed feelings and judgement.
“We didn’t think you’d bother to show up at all,” Rosemary chirps, stapling a packet of papers at the photocopy machine.
Alice ignores her and scans around the office. She bops a few hellos and hears the fast clicking of typewriter keys going off and the high squeals of Pamela’s baby boy. Phyllis peers through her reading glasses at her desk and pushes them further up the bridge of her nose.
“You look terrible, Alice,” she concludes.
Rosemary clamps a knuckle between her lips to prevent herself from laughing. Lottie and Ann exchange bemused looks. Pamela pretends she’s somewhere else; bouncing her son on her knees. Alice remains calm and finally says,
“Thank you. What would you like me to do first?”
“You can start by proofreading those,” Phyllis points toward a pile of Manila folders inches from her before looking back down at her own incomplete work with a pen in her hand.