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modern woman create tasty meals without the use of butter.
    Victoria’s mother snubbed her nose at the government’s ads of Rosie the Riveter. “A proper woman doesn’t wear coverallsand a handkerchief over her hair while flexing her muscles,” her mother said. “What is this country coming to if we start treating our young women like boys?” All the ladies nodded in agreement.
    Their snobbery angered Victoria. They were hypocrites. Victoria knew that her father had hired women to work in his factory. The safe life of Nagog was kept alive by the muscles in the arms of those women who were willing to work. “What’s wrong with a woman working in a factory?”
    Her mother gave her the “look,” and Victoria went silent as she seethed inside—her spirit slammed against the cage Nagog had become.
    The entire community was determined to live enclosed in their tiny bubble. Victoria felt as if she’d never be part of the outside world. She hid her Motion Picture magazines from her family, sharing them only with Molly. “Look at the women’s dresses,” she’d say as she admired the actresses’ photos. “They’re so glamorous. I want their life.”
    “They’re beautiful, but who would want to live in Hollywood?”
    “I would,” Victoria said. She looked at her best friend and confided her secrets. “I want to become an actress. I want to live in Hollywood and be like Ingrid Bergman.”
    Molly patted her hand. “You miss Joseph. Once he comes home you’ll forget all about Hollywood. The two of you are meant to be together.”
    Victoria turned away. No one understood or even dreamt of a life bigger than Nagog. And what if Molly was right? Once Joseph returned, would Victoria forget about her dreams and simply give in to the life she’d been handed? She’d be nothingmore than a wife and a mother, never finding out who she could become if given the freedom to find out. The need for escape burned in her.

    V ictoria looked away from Joseph’s home and stared at the wrinkles in her hands as she spoke to the empty sitting room. “When you’re a child, you think you have control over your future. You don’t realize how unforeseen events can change the trajectory of your life.” She picked up a silver frame from one of the shelves by the fireplace. In the picture, her mother stood erect, a posed smile on her face, while Victoria held her arms wide as if to say, Look at me . Her mother’s speeches had been a part of life. Victoria remembered sitting in this room by the fireplace as she listened to her mother’s voice.
    “I will allow you one month to accompany your father on his business trip to California,” her mother said. “You will behave like a proper young lady and not socialize with the sailors home on leave or attend their raucous parties. When you return I will expect your help with my charity events until you begin college in the fall. You will not waste this summer in a movie theater.”
    San Diego had been a sparkling new world: the bright sun against the blue ocean; the stucco buildings with red terra-cotta roofs; the glamorous businesswomen sporting suits and hats. When she and her father went to dinner, she’d watch the women drink martinis at the bar without escorts. She wanted to be like them.
    Victoria became her father’s secretarial assistant as he sold plastics to large corporations. For the first time she had a jobthat earned her money instead of an allowance controlled by her mother, and she dreamt of what it would be like to get a paycheck as a working actress.
    Her father’s business took them for a week to Hollywood, where they stayed in a hotel with a pool on the roof. At night she’d look at the city lights and imagine her life as an actress. During that week, she spoke to the concierge, who was also trying to become an actor. He showed her the newspapers that announced casting calls and allowed her to tag along while he auditioned. The hunger grew, but Victoria didn’t