Susannah could barely contain her excitement, so it was a good thing Henry left for work early. Normally he didn’t leave until 9 or so, but an 8:30 meeting meant he started his walk to the office at 8:15. Perfect timing, as far as Susannah was concerned; the local chapter of the National Woman’s Party would meet at 9:30 to march down Main Street and over to the courthouse steps. That gave her just enough time to don her Sunday finest. (All the ladies had agreed to look feminine and attractive while demanding their right to vote – no need to fuel the flames of the “only old maids and school marms care about voting” argument many men about town were grousing.) Susannah finished buttoning her shoes, then admired herself in the looking glass as she tidied her hair and pinned on her loveliest hat.
“I’m as pretty as a picture,” she said aloud to her reflection, “but I HAVE A BRAIN! LET US VOTE!”
She grabbed her worn but beloved handbag, took a deep breath, and threw open the front door. The sun was as bright as her spirit; despite the smile she couldn’t keep off her face, Susannah had a defiant set to her jaw and tilt of her head. “Henry will be furious,” she thought as she walked down the porch steps, “but Henry can kiss my foot!” She shut the front gate, patted her hair once more, and took off down the sidewalk, humming as she went.