The Hot Flash Club Strikes Again (11 page)

“Absolutely not. I have no intention of letting some idiot nurse turn me into a vegetable.”

“Well, that probably wouldn’t be the result,” Dr. Monroe informed her evenly. “But your tumor is wrapped around your organs in such a way that it would make an operation impossible, anyway. You could have a few rounds of chemotherapy to shrink the tumor. This might provide several more months of good-quality life for you—”

Claudia interrupted. “But would it also have negative effects?”

The doctor nodded. “It might.”

“I’d experience nausea? I’d lose my hair?”

“Not necessarily. We have medications to control nausea, and the kind of chemo I’m thinking of for you would be very mild.”

“Then why bother?”

Patiently, Hugh Monroe explained, “Because, as I said, it might provide you with a few more months of good-quality life—”

“Or it might not, correct?”

“We never can be absolutely certain about the results of chemo, but statistics are on the side—”

Claudia shook her head. “No. No chemotherapy.”

“You don’t have to decide right this moment,” Dr. Monroe reminded her. “Think about it for a few days.”

Claudia shrugged. “With or without the chemo, what can I expect to happen?”

“Over the next few months, you will probably experience weakness, constipation, and loss of appetite. But you shouldn’t worry about pain. We have medications that will take care of that. The tumor is quite advanced. You must have experienced some symptoms, Mrs. Lodge. I’m surprised you haven’t been to see me before now.”

“I don’t believe in making a fuss over matters.”

“Yes, that’s the good old Yankee way.” The physician moved closer, putting his hand on Claudia’s. “Fairly soon, I’d like you to get in touch with Martha Wright, who’s in charge of hospice—”

Claudia withdrew her hand. “I won’t need hospice.”

“Perhaps not for a while, no. But you will need someone to get your groceries and perform other errands—”

Claudia shrugged. “Polly can do that.”

Polly can?
Polly thought with surprise. Okay, but how about asking Polly?

“Now, Mrs. Lodge, tell me, how are you feeling?”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you eating?”

“Of course.”

“Yet you’ve lost weight.” When Claudia didn’t reply, the doctor continued, “Are you living alone?”

“I have a housekeeper.”

“And she lives with you?”

“No,” Claudia admitted sullenly.

“You might want to consider having her move in with you. Since you don’t want hospice. I don’t mean immediately, but eventually. And now is the time for you to get your legal affairs in order.”

“My legal affairs are already in order.”

“Excellent.” Dr. Monroe stepped away from the bedside. “Do you have any questions?”

Claudia nodded. “Are you planning to attend the Clarks’ cocktail party?”

“Oh!” His eyebrows rose in surprise. “Um, I’m not sure.”

“You ought to, you know. It’s probably the best party of the fall. Phyllis Clark told me they’re having the Guarrancia Quartet play.”

“Well, perhaps I’ll see you there. Nice to see you again, Mrs. Lodge. Great to meet you, Polly.” With a swift smile all around, he left the room.

The nurse helped Claudia from the table. Claudia gathered her things, and they returned to the reception area to schedule her next appointment. Claudia’s back was straight and her head high, but Polly noticed how the older woman seemed to sway slightly with each step, as if working hard to keep her balance.

As they walked back through the corridors, Polly racked her brain: What would Claudia like right now? Could anything provide momentary pleasure? “Why don’t we have some tea before I drive you home?” Polly asked.

“Here?” Claudia looked as if Polly had just spit on the floor.

“Sure. They’ve got some great little restaurants in the basement. I ate there when my friend—”

“I have no intention of eating in a hospital.”

“Okay, then, let’s go to the Ritz. My treat.”

“No, thank you, Polly. I’d prefer to go home.”

Polly knew better than to discuss private matters in the public corridors of the hospital, but once they were settled in the car, she turned to her mother-in-law. “Claudia. I’m really upset about this diagnosis and your decision. I think you should reconsider having chemotherapy—”

“Please do not tell me what to do, Polly,” Claudia snapped. “And would you be good enough to stop dawdling and drive me home? I’m tired.”

To placate her, Polly put her key in the ignition and started the car. Then she tried again. “I know you’re a private and independent person, Claudia. But I do want you to know I’m more than ready to do anything I can to help you.”

“I’m sure you are,” Claudia replied, sounding bored.

“I have a friend who’s a nurse—”

“I have every confidence in Dr. Monroe.”

“Of course. That’s good. But this is such an enormous matter, Claudia. I could find you some books on the subject—”

“Polly, you’re becoming tiresome. Let’s have no more discussion of my so-called imminent death, please. In fact, I’d appreciate some silence right now.”

Polly nodded and didn’t speak again until they reached Claudia’s house. “Would you like me to come in with you now?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I intend to take a nap.”

“Very well. But Dr. Monroe said you’ll need someone to fetch groceries and do errands for you.”

“True. But I’m perfectly capable of dialing the phone to ask you when I need something, Polly. I’m not that far gone.”

“I didn’t mean to imply—”

“And another thing. I’d appreciate it if you’d keep this information to yourself. I don’t want anyone gossiping about me.”

“Of course, I won’t say a word—”

“Not that you run in the same crowd I do, of course, but rumors always spread somehow.” Claudia opened her car door.

“Claudia, let me help you up the steps,” Polly volunteered.

“Don’t fuss so!” Claudia shot Polly such a venomous glance, Polly cringed.

——————————

When Polly entered her own home just after five, she was tired and a bit freaked-out. She wanted a good stiff drink. She wanted a pint of chocolate ice cream. She wanted to kick something. She felt so sorry for Claudia, and so trapped by her—

The phone rang.

“Mom?” David’s young voice was like balm to her soul. “How are you?”

“I’m fine, darling, how’s Jehoshaphat?”

“Fat and happy. Amy thought you might like to come out for a visit.”

“Oh, I’d love it!” Polly felt like a wallflower being asked to the senior prom. “You have no idea how I’d love to see that little baby, David! I’ve just been driving Claudia to the doctor’s. She’s got ovarian cancer!”

“That’s terrible! Poor Claudia,” David said. “I’ll send her some flowers.”

“That’s sweet of you, David. Oh, I’m so glad I’m going to see the baby. It makes me feel like the sun’s about to shine!”

“Look, I’ve got to go, Jehoshaphat needs changing. Can you come tomorrow about eleven?”

“Wild horses couldn’t keep me away!” Polly hung up the phone, her exhaustion forgotten. David’s loving voice, the promise of seeing her grandson tomorrow morning, oh, how this made her soul soar!

The phone rang again.

“Mom?” David’s voice was apologetic. “Listen, I’ve just been talking with Amy.”

Polly could hear Amy in the background, chirping away. “Yes?”

“Amy feels”—
chirp chirp chirp!
—“and
I
do, too, we
both
feel, that while you’re taking care of Claudia, it would be better if you didn’t come near the baby. He’s so vulnerable, you know, and germs are so easily transmitted—”

“But, David!” Polly gasped. “Honey, I won’t be coming to you right from Claudia’s! And of course I’ll shower and change clothes—”

“Sorry, Mom. Amy just doesn’t”—
chirp chirp chirp!
—“Amy
and I
just don’t want to take the chance. Let’s wait until things are resolved with Claudia before you see Jehoshaphat again, okay?”

“Resolved?” In spite of herself, Polly’s voice became shrill. “You mean, wait till Claudia dies?”

“Well, yeah, I guess,” David answered meekly.

“But David, that could be
months,
” Polly protested. “It could be a year!”

“I’m sorry, Mom. I’ve got to think about my family’s health. I just don’t want to take any chances.”

“I’m so disappointed, David,” Polly said, hating herself as she spoke those words. She had never wanted to be a
disappointed
kind of mother. Rallying, she forced cheer into her voice. “But I do understand, and of course I want your son to be healthy and free from any kind of possible threat.”

“We’ll send you photos,” David promised.

“Oh,
lovely,
” Polly gushed. “And give him a kiss for me.”

She said good-bye, hung up the phone, and burst into tears.

12

To say that Sonny had relatives was like saying lasagna had calories, Beth thought, as she and Sonny arrived at his cousin’s home for the annual Halloween party. The driveway and street on both sides were crammed with sports cars, trucks, and motorcycles. A double row of jack-o’-lanterns, each carved with a ghastly grimace from which candlelight flickered, lined the sidewalk to the ranch house, which was hung with enough bats, cobwebs, witches, and ghouls to frighten Dracula.

Holding Sonny’s arm, Beth stepped with care over the curb and along the walk. Her white, plastic, four-inch high-heeled boots were not only uncomfortable, they were hell to walk in. She prayed she wouldn’t turn her ankle and fall.

Was she a fool to try to look glamorous? Last year, Beth had gone to a Halloween party at another grad student’s house, where her costume had been a great success. She’d put rocks in the pockets of an old raincoat, woven twigs into her hair, and gone as Virginia Woolf after she was dragged out of the river. That wouldn’t work with this bunch, she knew. When she’d tried to get suggestions from Sonny, he’d been hopeless.

Then she’d mentioned her dilemma to Sonny’s mother. Even now, the memory of her premarriage bonding moment with her incipient mother-in-law warmed Beth like a cup of hot cocoa.

It had been a weekday night at the Youngs’. Sonny was in the den, watching a baseball game with his father. Bobbie was in the kitchen, making cupcakes for the community bake sale, and Beth was there in the heart of the family, helping. It was her job to ice the chocolate cupcakes with silly faces. Beth was so thrilled to be included in a family production and so nervous about doing it right that every mouth on every face had a wavery squiggle. Fortunately, Bobbie thought that was deliberate.

“What are you wearing to the Halloween party?” Bobbie asked.

“I’m not sure,” Beth answered. She’d thought of Cinderella and Prince Charming, but that was way too gooey. Heathcliff and Catherine? Anthony and Cleopatra? Beth couldn’t help thinking of famous lovers, but she was too timid to suggest them. She and Sonny
were
lovers, though, and she did want something cute and clever and also something that made it clear as sun on snow that she and Sonny were a couple. “Sonny says he hates dressing up.”

“How about Sonny and Cher?” Bobbie suggested. “That way, Sonny can come as himself.” She’d laughed her wonderful laugh. “All my other children loved wearing costumes for Halloween, but not Sonny. When he was a little kid, he’d insist on sticking a paper bag with three holes in it on his head.”

Beth forced herself to ask, “What about when he was a teenager?” She might as well bring up the days when Sonny had dated the peerless Robin, since it was Sonny’s mother’s favorite topic in the entire universe.

Sure enough, Bobbie beamed. “Oh, Robin made him dress up, that’s for sure. Let’s see, one year they went as Joe DiMaggio and Marilyn Monroe . . .”

Just kill me now,
Beth thought, intimidated by any woman who had the self-esteem to impersonate Marilyn Monroe.

“Another year,” Bobbie continued, “they went as Beauty and the Beast. Sonny hated that, the costume was so elaborate and he got all sweaty behind the mask.”

“Well,” Beth mused, wondering how to discuss the image thing without entirely humiliating herself in front of the other woman, “I can see Sonny loving the Sonny part, but I don’t know if I could pull off Cher. For one thing, she’s so tall.” Not to mention drop-dead gorgeous, glamorous, fabulous, amazing, stunning . . .

“You could wear high heels,” Bobbie said. She studied Beth a moment. “Go to a costume shop and rent a wig of long black hair and some outrageous costume. Lots of glitter, jewelry, lots of makeup. You could pull it off.”

“I could?” Beth squeaked.

“Sure.” Bobbie waggled her eyebrows at Beth. “Show Sonny your wild side.”

So Beth had gone to a costume shop, and now here she was, in this slinky, little silver lamé dress that didn’t quite fit, with a neckline plunging low enough to expose exactly how small her breasts were. She had a feeling she was going to spend most of the night arranging the waist-length black hair of her wig to fall down her shoulders and over her bust. Sonny told her she looked great, but Sonny
always
said she looked great.

The cousin’s house was packed with an array of characters who might have delighted Beth if she hadn’t been so overwhelmed. Gandalf whispered to Queen Elizabeth, Elton John had his arms around Bigfoot, Harry Potter danced with Cleopatra. A panoply of ghouls, ghosts, and gremlins swarmed through the room, drinks in hand, or lounged against the walls, which were hung with spiderwebs and bloody heads. From the fireplace flue hung a leg dripping with fake blood and gore. Dance music, punctuated with ear-shattering screams, throbbed. The air smelled of booze and chili.

Sonny plunged into the mêlée, and Beth followed, plastering a smile on her face as she squeezed through the crowd. In the kitchen, Sonny poured Beth a beer, at the same time yelling introductions to his cousin Saradyne, who was emptying nacho chips into a basket. Seconds later, Sonny was in a deep conversation with a vampire about a manifold.

Saradyne was plump, pregnant, and rosy-cheeked, as likable as a puppy. Beth asked, “Can I help you?”

“Sure, honey!” Saradyne shouted. “Take these out to the living room and put them on the table with the salsa, okay?”

“Okay,” Beth agreed with a great big smile, but walking away from Sonny, the one face she knew in this mob, felt like setting off on a paper raft into a sea of sharks. It didn’t help that she was about as steady on her heels as a cat on an ice rink. Her metaphors were getting mixed, she knew, but nothing to compare with the jumble of backs, fronts, arms, tusks, horns, and tails she had to dodge as she carried the enormous basket of nachos through the crowd.

Everyone she passed was laughing, dancing, talking, flirting. The table, draped in orange plastic, centered with a huge jack-o’-lantern, was laden with plates, napkins, spoons, a hot pot of chili, platters of fresh veggies, and bowls of salsa. Beth squeezed between a Martian and Liza Minnelli, set the nachos down, then turned to study the crowd. People were crushed together. Even in her four-inch heels, she was shorter than everyone else. A man in a Freddie Krueger mask glanced at Beth and walked away. Even Freddie Krueger dissed her! Beth flushed. She felt like such a wallflower.

Then she saw a clown coming toward her. Clowns are nice, Beth thought desperately, and forced herself to look inviting. The clown leaned toward her—she thought he was going to say something and leaned toward him. Taking a deep breath, she said, “Hi!”

“Hi,” the clown said. He reached past her, grabbed a handful of nachos, and walked away, spraying crumbs as he shoved the nachos into his mouth.

So much for nice clowns. Beth began to shove her way through the crowd back to the kitchen to find Sonny. She’d just stick by Sonny’s side all evening, pretending she was part of his group. Maybe he’d even introduce her to someone who didn’t belong to his enormous family. She would be brave and she would persevere, and—

And then she saw Sonny, leaning against the dining room wall, grinning, and talking to—to—
Cher
? A knockout, drop-dead, amazing-looking woman tossed her long black hair and laughed. Her long, sleek legs were accentuated by high heels and black fishnet stockings fastened to a garter belt. A long black corset pushed her stunning breasts up. The costume made her seem more naked than if she’d worn nothing at all.

Beth felt, in her ill-fitting silver lamé, like Peter Pan in drag. Still, she forced herself forward, until she was at Sonny’s side, or as close as she could get to him.

“Oh, hi, Beth!” said Robin with a dazzling smile.

Of course it would be Robin, Beth thought. Of course Sonny’s old love would be dressed as Cher.

“Hi, Robin!” Beth answered with pretended warmth.

“Let me guess who you are,” Robin suggested, cocking her beautiful head. “Um, let’s see. Morticia Addams? Anjelica Huston?”

Beth smiled through gritted teeth. “Cher!”

“Cher?” Robin blinked. “But
I’m
Cher, honey. I guess Bobbie didn’t tell you. I always come as Cher. Every year. Ever since Sonny and I won Best Costume Couple, back in high school. Not that it matters. I mean, Cher has so many different looks. Next year I want to have a long blond wig like she wore in her last video.”

Beth looked at Sonny. “You didn’t
tell
me . . .”

Sonny shrugged. “Sorry. Never even thought about it.”

Robin continued to babble while Beth processed that Sonny’s mother had purposefully embarrassed her. Bobbie was a one-woman Robin Fan Club, so she had to know,
of course
she knew, that Robin always came as Cher. Bobbie probably had photos in one of her zillion albums of Robin as Cher in every variation. The question was, why would Bobbie sabotage Beth? Did she really want to run Beth off? Did she really believe that would clear the path and make Sonny fall back in love with Robin?

Hot tears of anger burned in her eyes. She had to get out of here. She couldn’t let anyone see her cry. Confused, humiliated, and angry, Beth made an abrupt turn and strode away from Robin and Sonny.

Or tried to. The hem of her silver dress caught in one of her heels. In a hellishly drawn-out moment, she fell, reaching out with both hands to catch herself, wrenching her back painfully. Sonny grabbed at her arm, but that twisted her spine even more. His hand slipped away as she crumpled to the rug, where she lay in agony among a crowd of feet. Well,
now
she had everyone’s attention.

“Are you all right?” Robin asked.

Beth tried to push herself up, but her back, like a fiery rope, restrained her. “My back,” she managed to gasp.

Sonny swooped down like a hero, lifting her up in his arms. “What happened?”

“I caught my dress in my heel and twisted my back.”

“Do you want to go to the emergency room?”

“No, no,” Beth protested. “Let me just go lie down on a bed for a moment.”

Sonny shoved through the crowd and down the hall to a bedroom, where he settled her gently on the bed. “I’ll get some aspirin.” He went away.

She closed her eyes, trying to relax, to release the pain.

Saradyne appeared in the doorway. “Someone said you fell? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Beth assured her. “I just twisted my back.”

“I’ll get you a heating pad. It will do wonders.”

“You poor little thing.” Suddenly Robin was there next to the bed. In her sleek Sex Queen black, she oozed health, sensuality, and superior genes. “What can I do for you?” she asked sweetly.

Beth closed her eyes again and groaned.