Page 19 of The Women of Oak Ridge

THANKSGIVING DAY ARRIVED on a cold wind.

Despite the holiday, work in Oak Ridge continued nonstop.

Luckily, Sissy and I were both scheduled for the early shift and made plans to enjoy roasted turkey and all the fixings that evening at the cafeteria.

I invited Garlyn to join us, but Clive declined Sissy’s invitation, claiming he had to work.

For some reason, I didn’t believe his story.

It was more likely he’d rather not dine with Garlyn and me.

The large envelope Mr. Colby asked me to deliver to one of the engineers in the control room was sealed and had the words Restricted Data stamped on it in red ink.

This wasn’t the first time I’d handled confidential documents.

Not long after I began working at the plant, Mr. Colby informed me I’d been cleared for access to the control room, operating floor, administration building, and other areas off-limits to general employees.

That very day he’d handed me a thick, sealed package and directed me to take it to the incinerator in one of the outbuildings.

I was to make sure the contents were completely destroyed before I returned.

I never knew what was inside the envelopes and packages, but since I had no understanding of the work that took place inside the massive plant, it didn’t matter.

From that point on, I’d repeated the task multiple times, as well as delivering envelopes like the one I now held to various employees throughout the plant.

He appeared just as shocked to see me. “Mae? What are you doing here?”

His unfriendly tone rankled. “I work here, same as you.”

Frank looked up from the document I’d brought him, which appeared to be some sort of technical drawing. “Is there a problem?”

Clive immediately offered a false smile. “No, Mae is a friend. I was just surprised to see her, is all.”

Frank nodded and went back to work.

I moved around Clive and exited the room. He followed me out, closing the door behind him. As I made my way to the stairs, his voice stopped me.

“Sissy told me you worked at K-25, but I didn’t know your position. I wasn’t aware you had access to the control room.”

I faced him and crossed my arms. “Sissy shouldn’t be talking about me or my job. It isn’t anyone’s business what I do or where I go. And you shouldn’t share information that could get her into trouble. Three girls from the dorm have been fired for talking about things they shouldn’t.”

His eyes narrowed. “What has she told you?”

“Only that you work here at K-25.”

“Nothing else?”

I didn’t like being interrogated. “You’ll have to ask her, but I assure you if she had, it wasn’t anything I would repeat.”

He studied me, as though determining if I told the truth or not. After a moment, he said, “I need to get back to work.”

When he turned to leave, I decided to test my theory regarding his story about tonight. “It’s a shame you have to miss the big Thanksgiving dinner. You must have an odd schedule, being that you’re here now and yet you have to work tonight too.”

He stiffened. “As you said about yourself, what I do isn’t anyone’s business. My schedule doesn’t concern you.” He didn’t wait for my reply and disappeared into the control room without a backwards glance.

I stewed over the exchange all the way back to the maintenance shop.

What does Sissy see in him? I wondered. He wasn’t terribly handsome, but then outward appearances had never been important to me either.

Garlyn was certainly nice-looking, but it was his friendly personality and kindness that drew me the first day we met.

Clive, on the other hand, never smiled, never offered pleasant conversation, never acted as though he thought me worthy of his time.

By the end of the workday, I’d decided not to tell Sissy I saw Clive.

Like me, she would surely wonder why he was working the day shift as well as the night shift.

His loss was my gain, as I saw it. I’d make sure she had a wonderful evening with Garlyn and me and our other friends, proving to my roommate she didn’t need sour-faced Clive Morrison.

I bundled in the warm coat I’d purchased last week and made my way to the bus terminal.

It had been a splurge, but the hand-me-down coat I’d brought to Tennessee stood out among the nicer garments the girls in the dorm wore.

Even Sissy’s wardrobe was of better quality than the meager dresses I owned.

While I didn’t usually pay mind to things like that, now that I was seeing Garlyn and attending social gatherings on a regular basis, I didn’t want to look like a girl from a Kentucky coal mining camp.

Sissy sat on her bed when I arrived, her diary in her lap. She hurried to tuck it beneath her pillow before she greeted me.

“Is Garlyn meeting us at the cafeteria?” she asked a bit too brightly.

I felt the question was more for distraction than information, since we’d discussed what time we would have dinner before we left for work that morning.

Recently, I’d noticed she was careful not to leave the small writing book on the bedside table as she’d done in the early days of keeping a journal.

No doubt she’d begun to include private things about her relationship with Clive, but I hoped she knew I wouldn’t read it.

“Garlyn said he’d be there at seven o’clock sharp.”

“I wish Clive could join us.” A frown marred her face as she gazed out the window to the darkening sky. “Whatever he’s working on must be important, because his supervisor insisted he stay at the plant tonight.”

I remained silent while I changed into the dress I considered my best. I would need to purchase something new at Miller’s department store soon, but I figured I’d wait until after Christmas.

Mama hinted in her last letter she’d send a special package for the holiday, and I couldn’t help but wonder if she might’ve sewed some things for me.

She’d also written that she, Pa, and Harris were invited to the pastor’s home for the Thanksgiving meal.

I was glad to hear it. Pa wasn’t well enough to go hunting for a wild turkey, and Harris was still too young to go on his own.

We left the dormitory a short time later. Delicious aromas and a smiling Garlyn greeted us when we arrived at the cafeteria. While Sissy walked on ahead to join some of our dorm mates in line, I linked arms with Garlyn.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Mae.” He handed me a bar of chocolate, the kind I knew was sold only in the PX. I’d seen some of the SEDs and other military guys munching on the hard-to-get treat from time to time. “It’s not much, but I just wanted you to know... I’m thankful I met you.”

His warm words and earnest expression caused a tingle to run through me. “I’m thankful I met you, too.”

We hadn’t kissed yet, but I’d recently decided I wouldn’t stop him if he tried.

I liked Garlyn. A lot. He talked about returning to Scranton after the war, and I had to admit the idea of going with him crossed my mind more than once.

But, I chided myself as we joined Sissy and the others, I was getting ahead of things.

A chocolate bar was not a proposal of marriage.

It was simply a nice gesture to let me know he appreciated our friendship.

With the war continuing to rage in Europe and in the Pacific, with no end in sight, we had plenty of time to see where our relationship might take us.

Today, I would simply be grateful for Garlyn’s easy company, a dear friend and roommate in Sissy, and delicious food—all of which reminded me of God’s goodness and faithfulness.

I couldn’t ask for anything more.

Saturday morning found me loading dirty laundry and a container of soap into a large wicker basket. I would rather skip this particular task, being that this was my only day off for a while. Yet if I didn’t attend to my growing pile of laundry today, I’d regret it later.

I’d lingered in bed long after the sun rose in a clear sky.

There was no point rushing. Long lines at each of the four laundry and ironing rooms formed every hour of the day, every day of the week.

From time to time I used Sissy’s handheld washboard to rinse underthings or a blouse, but today required use of an electric washing machine, especially since I’d volunteered to do Sissy’s laundry as well.

I tossed a bath towel on top of the pile and thought of poor Mama.

She did laundry on an old wringer-style washer—for our family as well as dozens of other people in town—working backbreaking hours, six days a week.

Wouldn’t it be something if I could save enough money and buy her an electric washer?

Although the main reason I’d come to Tennessee was to do my part to help win the war, I also wanted to help my family.

Mama said the money I sent home every week had already eased some of the worry Pa carried.

I plopped down on my bed and glanced at Sissy where she stood in front of our small wall mirror. “Where are you and Clive going today?”

She continued to dab on bright red lipstick from the cardboard container it came in these days.

All metals went to the war effort, forcing beauty product manufacturers to find alternative materials to use for lipsticks, powders, and other items deemed necessary to the girls in the dorm.

I’d brightened my lips with Sissy’s makeup a couple times when I had plans with Garlyn, but mostly I used petroleum jelly.

It was inexpensive and easily obtained at the market.

“There’s a Judy Garland movie showing at the theater in Knoxville,” she said. “It isn’t playin’ in Oak Ridge, and Clive knows how much I love her movies.”

“That sounds nice.” I struggled to evoke cheerfulness. Although a trip to the larger town twenty miles away would be fun, her companion was the problem.