Mr. Palmer, a quiet academic writing an account of his research on the Galapagos, looks out often at his study’s view of the California coast. Six days a week, he watches as women from the beachside apartments wait on a stone wall for mail from their husbands, fighting in Japan, to arrive at the end of the road. He observes the attributes of each: their comely appearances, some short, one pregnant, all congregating peacefully through the slowed season of waiting, just as Penelope did for Odysseus, he muses. He attempts to join them one morning, but the women are reticent to address him, and he decides interfering with their ritual is not his place. News comes of one husband’s death, and Mr. Palmer finds he likes the women less when pity is demanded of him. Not long after this, one of the mothers adopts a dog, which yowls and scratches to his great annoyance. He commiserates with one Mrs. Corson, who then invites him to accompany her and her daughter Anne into town for a pony ride. Mrs. Corson slips into the store while Mr. Palmer keeps watch, and she emerges with alcohol on her breath and a curious burning appearance in her eyes. Mr. Palmer grows more and more uncomfortable in her presence, especially as she begins criticizing Mrs. Kendall’s constant vulture-like protection of her son Tommy (who, she divulges, was born out of wedlock). She admonishes Mr. Palmer for his presumption of serenity between the waiting women, flaring at the perceived offenses of each. Suddenly, chaos breaks their conversation – Anne knocks Tommy down, and Mrs. Kendall shakes Anne’s arm in reprimand. Mrs. Corson leaps to Anne’s defense, and the mothers’ yelling quickly spirals into a free-for-all cascade of criticism. Mr. Palmer attempts to intercede, asking the pregnant Mrs. Vaughn how they might break up the screaming match, but Mrs. Vaughn shrugs and informs him that not only is Mrs. Corson drunk, she’s high as a kite. Mrs. Vaughn stalks away, tossing the remark over her shoulder that mail has arrived, and each woman lines up quietly beside the next.