Chapter 5 - THE NAMES MISSING FROM THE PLAQUE
The managers offered a private car, refreshments, and a public apology.
Their sudden attentiveness angered me.
Ten minutes earlier, Mom had been a security concern.
Now that her value could be documented, they treated her like royalty.
She noticed too.
When the male manager suggested photographing her with the gown, she shook her head.
“I did not come here to become your advertisement.”
“What would you like us to do?” he asked.
“Put the right names beside it.”
“Only yours?”
“There were six of us.”
“Of course.”
“And the women who made the other gowns.”
“We will review the archives.”
“Do not review them because you are embarrassed today. Review them because those women did the work.”
The manager nodded.
Mom turned toward Sophie.
“Will you make sure?”
“Yes.”
Not I’ll try.
Not I’ll ask someone.
Yes.
The store provided a padded chair while Sophie examined the gown with her.
For nearly an hour, Mom described the old workroom.
The heat beneath the lamps.
The cutting tables.
The sound of thirty sewing machines running at once.
Women bringing children on Saturdays because childcare cost more than they earned.
Lucille could alter a pattern without measuring twice.
Martha sang while cutting fabric.
Helen saved scraps to make dresses for her daughters.
Ruth had lost two fingers in a factory accident but produced the finest hems in the department.
“What happened to them?” Sophie asked.
Mom looked down at her hands.
“Life.”
One word contained retirement, illness, moving away, and death.
Before we left, Sophie gave Mom an archival card.
“Write anything you remember.”
Mom gripped the pen.
Pain made her fingers shake.
She tried to form the first letter of Lucille’s name.
The line came out crooked.
Embarrassment tightened her face.
I pulled the card closer and placed my hand over hers.
“Tell me. I’ll write.”
She studied me.
Then she began listing names.
I wrote down every one.
When we reached the car, Mom looked back at the store.
“Do you think they’ll really do it?”
“Sophie will.”
“That isn’t the same as the store.”
“No.”
May you like
She nodded.
Neither of us yet understood how difficult remembering would become.
