"Yes, I've got them," he said. "I've been buying some stock, on Dave's recommendations. What do you want them for?"
"To see what we've got," she said. "There was a house I saw in Eastbridge that-"
"Joanna"
"-was a little more than this one but-"
"Joanna, listen to me."
"I'm not going to stay here another-"
"Listen to me, damn it!"
She gripped the handset. "Go ahead," she said.
"I'll try to get home early," he said. "Don't do anything till I get there.
You hear me? Don't make any commitments or anything. I think I can get away in about half an hour."
"I'm not going to stay here another day," she said.
"Just wait till I get there, will you?" he said. "We can't talk about this on the phone."
"Bring the bankbooks," she said.
"Don't do anything till I get there." The phone clicked dead.
She hung up.
She put the papers and envelopes back into the center drawer and closed it.
Then she got the phone book from the shelf and looked up Miss Kirgassa's number in Eastbridge.
The house she was thinking of, the St. Martin house, was still on the market. "In fact I think they've come down a bit since you saw it."
"Would you do me a favor?" she said. "We may be interested; I'll know definitely tomorrow. Would you find out the rock-bottom price they'll take for an immediate sale, and let me know as soon as you can?"
"I'll get right back to you," Miss Kirgassa said. "Do you know if Mrs.
Markowe has found something? We had an appointment this morning but she didn't show up."
"She changed her mind, she's not moving," she said. "But I am."
She called Buck Raymond, the broker they'd used in Stepford. "Just hypothetically," she said, "if we were to put the house on the market tomorrow, do you think we could sell it quickly?"
"No doubt about it," Buck said. "There's a steady demand here. I'm sure you could get what you paid, maybe even a little more. Aren't you happy in it?"
"No," she said.
"I'm sorry to hear that. Shall I start showing it? There's a couple here right now who are-"
"No, no, not yet," she said. "I'll let you know tomorrow."
"'NOW JUST HOLD ON A MINute," Walter said, making spread-handed calming gestures.
"No," she said, shaking her head. "No. Whatever it is takes four months to work, which means I've got one more month to go. Maybe less; we moved here September fourth."
"For God's sake, Joanna-"
"Charmaine moved here in July," she said. "She changed in November.
Bobbie moved here in August and now it's December." She turned and walked away from him. The sink's faucet was leaking; she hit the handle back hard and the leaking stopped.
"You had the letter from the Department of Health," Walter said.
"Bullshit, to quote Bobbie." She turned and faced him. "There's something, there's got to be," she said. "Go take a look. Would you do that, please? She's got her bust shoved out to here, and her behind girdled down to practically nothing! The house is like a commercial. Like Carol's, and Donna's, and Kit Sundersen's!"
"She had to clean it sooner or later; it was a pigsty."
"She's changed, Walter! She doesn't talk the same, she doesn't think the same-and I'm not going to wait around for it to happen to me!"
"We're not going to-"
Kim came in from the patio, her face red in its furedged hood.
"Stay out, Kim," Walter said.
"We want some supplies," Kim said. "We're going on a hike."
Joanna went to the cookie jar and opened it and got out cookies. "Here," she said, putting them into Kim's mittened hands. "Stay near the house, it's getting dark."
"Can we have Oreos?"
"We don't have Oreos. Go on."
Kim went out. Walter closed the door.
Joanna brushed crumbs from her hand. "It's a nicer house than this one," she said, "and we can have it for fifty-three-five. And we can get that for this one; Buck Raymond said so."
"We're not moving," Walter said.
"You said we would!"
"Next summer, not-"
"I won't be me next summer!"
"Joanna-"
"Don't you understand? It's going to happen to me, in January!"
"Nothing's going to happen to you!"
"That's what I told Bobbie! I kidded her about the bottled water!"
He came close to her. "There's nothing in the water, there's nothing in the air," he said. "They changed for exactly the reasons they told you: because they realized they'd been lazy and negligent. If Bobbie's taking an interest in her appearance, it's about time. It wouldn't hurt you to look in a mirror once in a while."
She looked at him, and he looked away, flushing, and looked back at her.
"I mean it," he said. "You're a very pretty woman and you don't do a damn thing with yourself any more unless there's a party or something."
He turned away from her and went and stood at the stove. He twisted a knob one way and the other.
She looked at him.
He said, "I'll tell you what we'll do-"
"Do you want me to change?" she asked.
"Of course not, don't be silly." He turned around.
"Is that what you want?" she asked. "A cute little gussied-up hausfrau?"
"All I said was-"
"Is that why Stepford was the only place to move? Did somebody pass the message to you? 'Take her to Stepford, Wally old pal; there's something in the air there; she'll change in four months."'
"There's nothing in the air," Walter said. "The message I got was good schools and low taxes. Now look, I'm trying to see this from your viewpoint and make some kind of fair judgment. You want to move because you're afraid you're going to 'change'; and I think you're being ir- rational and-a little hysterical, and that moving at this point would impose an undue hardship on all of us, especially Pete and Kim." He stopped and drew a breath. "All right, let's do this," he said. "You have a talk with Alan Hollingsworth, and if he says you're-"
"With who?"
"Alan Hollingsworth," he said. His eyes went from hers. "The psychiatrist. You know." His eyes came back. "If he says you're not going through some-"
"I don't need a psychiatrist," she said. "And if I did, I wouldn't want Alan Hollingsworth. I saw his wife at the P.T.A.; she's one of them.
You bet he'd think I'm irrational."
"Then pick someone else," he said. "Anyone you want. If you're not going through some kind of-delusion or something, then we'll move, as soon as we possibly can. I'll look at that house tomorrow morning, and even put a deposit on it."
"I don't need a psychiatrist," she said. "I need to get out of Stepford."
"Now come on, Joanna," he said. "I think rm being damn fair. You're asking us to undergo a major upheaval, and I think you owe it to all of us, including yourselfespecially yourself-to make sure you're seeing things as clearly as you think you are."
She looked at him.
"Well?" he said.
She didn't say anything. She looked at him.
"Well?" he said. "Doesn't that sound reasonable?"
She said, "Bobbie changed when she was alone with Dave, and Charmaine changed when she was alone with Ed."
He looked away, shaking his head.
"Is that when it's going to happen to me?" she asked. "On our weekend alone?"