Authors: Terry Lee
After raking Miss White (aka Miss Dove, the house mother) over the coals, which erupted in boatloads of mischievous but fond memories, they also remembered having some guy take a picture of the eight of them on the infamous hill in front of Old Main. Sadly, the Victorian Gothic building had been completely destroyed by fire in 1982.
“I’ve still got mine.”
Allison didn’t even have to look up to know who spoke. How clearly she remembered Suzanne gripping that snapshot of the BAGs at Denise’s gravesite.
The sun began its descent, and even though there’d still be a couple hours of daylight, the inside of the bay house had dimmed. Janie moved to turn on some lamps when the front door burst open with such force, it knocked the pewter surfboard bottle opener off its nail on the wall. Since the bay house faced southwest, Janie always kept the front door closed to block out the blinding late afternoon sun. But now, with the doorway fully exposed, brilliant shards of light shot out around a bigger than life Wonder Woman silhouetted figure.
“I’m here! Damn, that’s a long drive.”
No one moved. Some had covered their eyes from the glare, some their mouths to stifle the shock. Piper had always made an entrance…they shouldn’t have been surprised. She flipped the door closed with her foot, a paisley cloth duffle bag in one hand and a plastic gallon milk container in the other, half full.
Once the blind of the west sun had been extinguished, the group waited for their eyes to adjust before being able to fully recognize and appraise Piper Hathaway in all her glory. Aviator yellow-tinted sunglasses hung on the tip of her nose, and a cigarette in dire need of an ashtray stuck out between two inflated lips. Her dyed platinum-blonde hair looked like she’d held her head out the window on the trip down. Colorful tattoos covered both arms, clearly exposed by her cropped tank top, which did nothing to conceal her pierced navel. She wore aged skin-tight jeans with several slits and patches.
“Groovy, you’re all here.” She dropped her duffle bag and pulled the cigarette carefully from her lips. “Anyone got an ashtray?”
It’s 1992
, Janie thought, handing over a dish that could possibly keep ashes off the floor, and Piper was the only person she knew who could still pull off the word groovy.
“What’s with the milk?” Dena went straight for the kill.
Piper hoisted up the half-filled plastic gallon jug. “Oh this? White Russians.”
That remark brought another round of smoke-bomb silence. No one, not even Dena, risked asking if the jug in Piper’s hand had been full when she left Houston.
Chapter 20
Friday Night, North Padre Island - 1992
Later in the evening, after consuming pounds of shrimp, remoulade, and red sauce, plus more garlic bread than any of them wanted to admit, they moved out onto the deck to toast and admire the evening. Luckily, a breeze usually accompanied the nights on North Padre, making the time on the deck enjoyable and almost always mosquito free.
They sat in silence for a good half hour, soaking in the salty sea breeze and each most likely in deep thought…with the exception of Piper, who acted like her brain took a different route and had not yet arrived at the bay house.
Janie rearranged herself in the Adirondack chair, thinking the time had come. Surprised Allison hadn’t taken the initiative to start the conversation, she took the plunge.
“Okay.” She took a sip of her margarita, third batch. “It’s time.” Janie paused. “Denise....” She felt her hands begin to dampen. This wasn’t going to be easy. “Who wants to go first?” Silence, then more silence. “Suzanne? Allison? You two seemed to be more on top of things than the rest of us…which I hate,” she had to add. “Not that you were, but that we weren’t.”
Tiki torches dotted the perimeter of the deck, casting a soft flickering light on the group. Allison and Suzanne exchanged looks.
“Go on, Suzanne…you first.” Allison offered Suzanne a soft smile.
Suzanne gazed upward to the first stars in the early night sky. “She was my friend. My best friend. My rock. She’s been in my life since we were little girls.” Suzanne removed her horn-rimmed glasses and swiped her hands across her face. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.” Her eyes dropped to her lap. “I’ve always been so shy, and she’s the one who pushed me to do new things.”
Janie had brought a box of Kleenex out to the deck for just this occasion. She handed a couple to Suzanne, who quickly blew her nose.
“Like, like…building that stupid wall of beer cans.” Tears had reached the point of no return and couldn’t be stopped. “I’d never have done that without her. And all the times we had to help you all get in the dorm? I was scared to death! But you know what she said?” Not waiting, Suzanne burst forward. “She told me to get up off my ass because we didn’t have a choice. We had to get you back in. I didn’t want to. I was a coward! But because of her….”
The breeze seemed to stop. The night had become unusually quiet except for Suzanne’s sobs.
“Aw, Suzanne, don’t be so hard on yourself.” Janie moved to sit next to Suzanne, hoping to offer some comfort by putting an arm around the frail, sobbing body.
Using strength no one even imagined Suzanne could muster, she threw off Janie’s arm. “No! Don’t!”
Janie had never seen a blaze like the one flaring from Suzanne’s eyes.
“I don’t deserve to be comforted!” Suzanne’s body looked brittle sitting in the oversized chair.
“Oh, come on, Suzanne.” Frannie reached across and squeezed Suzanne’s arm, but once again, Suzanne tossed it off.
“It gets worse. I’m still a coward. Even admitting this makes me sick.” Suzanne had her hands against the side of her head. Her body started to rock in a back and forth motion.
Shocked, all eyes but Allison’s now focused on Suzanne. The look on Allison’s face showed some sign of knowledge unknown to the others.
“But, I couldn’t do it. When she got really bad…really sick, I couldn’t go over there.”
“I’m sure she understood—” Janie attempted.
“Of course she understood!” Suzanne’s voice wailed. “She was Denise! She knew me. She knew I was a coward!”
“Suzanne, stop.” Frannie rose to scoot her chair closer to Suzanne, but Allison caught her wrist.
“Wait,” Allison whispered. “Let her get it out.”
Frannie lowered herself back into her chair.
“I could have gone over there. I could have helped feed David and the kids, read to her…there’s so much I could have done.” Suzanne’s tears seemed to have disappeared, replaced by disgust and anger. “But no. You know what I did instead?”
The group sat motionless.
“Well, do you?” Suzanne was almost screaming.
The group collectively shook their heads, obvious concern and sadness lining their faces.
“I…I…I went to garden club meetings. I went to Junior League luncheons, I volunteered to head committees. I shopped. I helped the girls with their homework…yeah, like I really know anything about calculus. I even paid the gardener overtime to redo the front beds, even though they didn’t need it. I did. I really did. I did everything I could to keep from having to go see her. I didn’t even want to think about it. Because if I did…well, then…I’d have to think about her dying. And I just…I just couldn’t. And then she died. I let her go without saying goodbye...to my best friend. I blamed all of you for not being there, but it was me. It was me all along. How could I be so selfish?” Her voice dropped off like mist evaporating into thin air.
The night on the deck came to a pixelated freeze-frame. Nothing…no one moved except Suzanne, who continued to rock back and forth. After a long, very long moment, Allison quietly lifted herself out of the chair, pulled the cushion with her she’d been sitting on, and gently placed it on the deck in front of Suzanne. She positioned herself cross-legged on the cushion and softly placed her hands on Suzanne’s knees to bring her rocking to a stand-still. She then reached up and pulled Suzanne’s hands away from her face. Their eyes met.
“Listen to me.” Allison’s voice sounded firm but kind. “Your friend…your best friend…knew how hard this was for you.”
Suzanne shook her head.
“No, Suzanne. Listen to me. She knew. We talked about it often.” Allison continued to massage the top of Suzanne’s hands. “Do you think for one minute she didn’t know how much you loved her?”
“But—”
“No buts. You’ve tortured yourself long enough.” Allison paused. “What do you think she’d say to you right now?”
After some thought, a faint smile tugged at the corner of Suzanne’s mouth. “She’d…she’d probably tell me to get off my ass.”
“And?”
“Enjoy her party?” Suzanne freed her hands to blow her nose.
“I’ll drink to that!” Dena was on her feet. “Anyone else?” All hands rose. “Wow. Okay, I’ll be back with a tray. Push pause, I don’t want to miss anything.”
After a few more rounds of drinks, hugs, and the end of the Kleenex box, the BAGs regained their composure. Suzanne agreed tonight was the night to talk about Denise. Tomorrow they’d honor her with a bonfire down on the beach.
“You saw her quite a bit at the end?” Dena asked. “I feel horrible we lost touch. We should have all been there.”
Allison shrugged. “Life’s that way. More complicated than when we were younger.” She laughed. “Although you’d never have convinced us of that back then.”
“No kidding.” Janie had brought brownies out onto the deck. “Anyone?” She had no takers, but grabbed a couple before reclaiming her seat.
“I hate to ask this, but was she in a lot of pain?” Dena, back to her wine, had brought the box outside with her.
“Uh…yeah, actually she was, for a while. That part was not so great.” Allison hesitated. “But…well, we got it taken care of.”
“How?” It was the first engagement in the conversation on Regina’s part.
A long silence encircled the group.
“Well, are you going to fucking tell us or not?” Dena asked. “How?”
“Geez, I should be used to your vocabulary by now.” Allison hesitated for another long moment before she spoke. “The doctor couldn’t prescribe it, but…he said if we could find some marijuana…it might help with the pain.”
The group, with the exception of Suzanne, remained seated, with only shock registering on their faces.
Suzanne shot straight up in her chair as if she’d just been goosed. “What? She smoked pot? Denise? Denise never smoked pot. What if she got addicted?”
Dena slapped her forehead. “Addicted? Really?”
“Down girl.” Allison rearranged herself in her chair and slowly added, “It was for medicinal purposes.” She paused. “And it worked.”
“Are you fucking shitting me? That blows my mind. I’ve heard of that, but never knew anyone who’d tried it. And it fucking works?” Dena shook her head, amazed. “How did you ever find some?”
“And I see you can still say fucking and shitting in the same sentence.” Allison shot Dena a quick smile, rubbed the side of her face, and scratched her nose. “Uh…Piper, you want to take that one?”
All eyes swiveled in Piper’s direction, who appeared to be floating on a White Russian magic carpet ride. “Huh?”
“You? You got pot for Denise?” Daggers flew from Suzanne directly aimed at Piper.
“Suzanne!” Allison had stayed with margaritas and took a long draw. “C’mon. If you had to get it for her…for medicinal purposes….” She air-quoted medicinal. “Who would you call? Now think about it.”
Piper had reeled herself back in from some far away planet. “Hey, man, I was only trying to help.”
“And you did.” Allison seemed to want to make this point perfectly clear. “And I’ll always be grateful to you for that.”
“Me too.” Janie raised her glass in a salute. “Way to go, Piper.”
The others followed, Suzanne being the last to raise her glass.
By the end of the evening, everyone had drunk way too much, as was tradition on the first night, and easily fell into their perspective beds. Piper landed face down on the couch, which also was tradition.
Chapter 21
Saturday Morning, North Padre Island - 1992
Janie shuffled to the kitchen after throwing water in her face and tying a bandana around her head like a pirate. She’d perfected the technique after studying Smee in the movie
Hook
about a thousand times. The humidity was not her hair’s best friend. Today her red frizz was out of control. If her eyes were bug-eyed instead of almost swollen shut from too much tequila and not enough water, she could easily have been a stand-in for Chucky in
Child’s Play 2
. Scary.
After filling the carafe for the coffee maker, she pulled out some gourmet Texas coffee with a hint of pecans and cinnamon. Breakfast would be simple. After that much alcohol consumption, she figured the group would need some simple carbohydrates. As she pulled bagels and English muffins from the pantry, and just for fun she also spread out the sausage kolaches and apple strudel from Prasek’s. Her humorous side bordered on mean, but hey, at least it wasn’t runny Eggs Benedict. Now that would have been a hoot.
You’re such a bitch.
“I wondered where you were.” Janie was used to Candy popping in with her two cents, but her alter-ego had stayed relatively quiet except for that Matt remark yesterday. She figured either Candy didn’t like the company or she’d also gotten plastered.
“What? Do you have eyes in the back of your head?”
The bag of bagels flew out of Janie’s hands when she heard the voice behind her…and it wasn’t Candy. Whirling around, she grabbed both her heart and her head that had suddenly started to throb. “What the hell? You scared me to death!”
Regina retrieved the bagels that had managed to remain in the bag and handed them back to Janie. “Sorry, I thought you were talking to me.” She looked around the empty kitchen. “Who were you talking to?”
Standing in a silky hot pink embroidered pajama set, Regina stood poised like a mannequin in a Neiman’s window. Her hair and makeup, completely intact, made Janie more than conscious of her faded Batman XXL shirt and red and black checkered pajama bottoms.
“What is that, Chinese or something?” Fancy nightwear had never been on her agenda.
Maybe you ought to take a look at that
…. Janie winced.
“It’s Mandarin.” Regina always spoke as if a camera was in front of her.
“I thought mandarin was an orange. You know, the little ones? Man, I could eat a box of those suckers.”
“Well, yes, mandarin is a little orange, but in this case it’s a style of clothing from a certain part of China.”
“China, Chinese…isn’t that what I said?”
“Ah, yes, I guess you did.”
“Okay then.” Geez, too early in the morning to get into some foreign pajama shit with Regina.
“But you didn’t answer my question.” Regina turned and placed a hand on her hip like a model at the end of a runway. “Who were you talking to?”
Running through her mind the thought of actually revealing to Regina the fact that she had a clone running around in her head—who offered mostly snide remarks—made Janie’s head throb even more. She opened a cabinet and pulled out a large bottle of Tylenol.
We’re not eighteen anymore, so what the hell.
After downing two pain relievers and scooping the coffee into the machine, she turned to face Regina head on. “Since I was a little girl I have had this voice in my head. She’s my—”
“You do? So do I!” Regina held her hand up like a game show hostess. “I thought I was the only one who had a little friend. Her name is Snow. She said her name was Lucy, but I couldn’t see myself spending a lifetime with someone named Lucy. I mean, really.”
“My dog’s name is Lucy.”
“Oh…well, there’s nothing wrong with the name Lucy, I just thought she ought to have a special name. I remember as a child looking through one of my storybooks, and I came up with Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. She agreed to Snow, but….” Regina slowed her speech, seeming to actually be paying attention to the Really?...How-boring look on Janie’s face. She finished her sentence. “But no dwarfs.” She cleared her throat and dabbed at her permanently stained lips. “What did…I mean, what do you call your…um, friend?”
“Do you sleep standing up or something?”
Regina ran her hands down her fancy pajama set. “Ah, no. Why?”
“Because you look so….”
Be nice
. “So…modelish.”
C’mon, modelish
?
“You know…fancy pjs without a wrinkle in them, and makeup…do I smell Georgio?”
“Just a hint…and, well, thank you…I think.” Regina took the bag of bagels from Janie, grabbed a knife, and started to split them. “Cream cheese?”
“In the fridge.”
Janie pulled her wad of frizz together and secured it with the wrapped hair band she had around her wrist. All she needed now was an eye patch to complete her ensemble. Pulling out a couple of baking sheets, she turned the oven to broil.
“You never told me her name.” Besides the cream cheese, Regina also brought a container of strawberries and a jug of orange juice to the counter. “You know…your…friend?”
This whole damn conversation seemed so bizarre. Here she was talking to Queen Regina, the TV reporter, who unless she was reporting a news event, never talked of anything besides herself. And they were actually kinda-sorta having a for real conversation. Weird.
“This isn’t going to end up on the news, is it?” Janie was only half kidding, figuring that since Regina had also admitted to a “named” inner self, she’d at least have some leverage for blackmail if needed.
“Don’t be silly.” Leaning back against the counter, Regina pinched off a small piece of bagel and nibbled. “So…what’s her name and how long have you had her?”
Feeling a little ease from the corner she had backed herself into, Janie decided to come clean. “Candy. Her name is Candy.” There, she’d said it. “And I really can’t remember how long she’s been around. Seems like forever.”
“Is…she friendly?”
“Actually, she kinda keeps me in line. You know, when I start going off on some tirade about….” She was about to say Matt, but certainly wasn’t ready to discuss her marital problems with Regina. “You know...things.”
“Me too. This is fascinating!”
Janie wondered if the “fascinating” was because they both had voices in their heads who actually gave logical advice, or the fact they were having a normal conversation. She figured it could go either way.
“I really thought I was the only one on earth who could hear a voice in my head. Sometimes she can be a real bitch.” Regina headed back to the refrigerator. “Do you have any parsley?”
“Okay, who’s the paranoid-schizophrenic hearing voices in their head? Don’t be shy, speak up.” Allison padded into the kitchen. She’d already changed into some stretch exercise pants and a flowing Mexican-designed beach cover up, her blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail.
Janie and Regina exchanged a quiet nod, which translated into agreeing not to divulge their discussion. At that moment they shared a secret, and having a secret, even a small one, created a bond. Something the two of them had never had.
“Coffee’s ready.” Janie offered Allison a smile, and said a silent thank you for not being the only one not wearing makeup at such an ungodly hour. Arranging mugs on the counter with the needed condiments, she checked the water in the tea kettle for Suzanne’s herbal tea and anyone else who might need something less acidic than coffee. The first night was always fun…until the first morning.
“Parsley? I need parsley, if at all possible,” Regina repeated.
“Yeah, I think so.” Janie wondered why on earth anyone would want, much less need, parsley on a Saturday morning. Especially after a night of ingesting enough alcohol to easily torch tonight’s bonfire. She glanced at Allison, who had her eyes on Regina.
“What’s with the parsley?” Allison took her first sip of coffee.
“For water retention, of course.” Regina had found the bagged fresh parsley and pulled off four or five stems. “You make a tea. Then you drink three or four cups a day. You know, Whole Foods even has parsley tea bags.”
“You don’t say.” Janie ran her hand over her rounded backside and wondered how many parsley tea bags would be needed to drop forty pounds.
Allison seemed to catch on to Janie’s thought process and gave her a wink. “Good to know, Regina.”
The rest of the women straggled into the kitchen, some in better shape than others. Piper, however, still remained face down on the couch.
“I held a Kleenex under her nose…she’s still breathing.” Dena filled a mug of the Texas brew and grabbed a sausage kolache. “These from Prasek’s?”
Having put the good stuff out as a joke, Janie should have known better with Dena around. The woman could hold her liquor. And with such class.
“Of course.” Janie pulled English muffins out of the oven just as the toaster popped up the first batch of bagels.
The group gathered around the kitchen table, the bottle of Tylenol the centerpiece. Piper finally appeared and didn’t look much different than when she had blown through the door the day before.
“Hey man, I gotta pee.” Piper rubbed the side of her head. “My bladder is about to bust.”
“Bathroom’s right down…oh my gosh!” Janie, suddenly seeing potential disaster puddled on the kitchen floor, hurled herself up. “Never mind, I’ll show you.” She glanced back at the group sitting around the table with a yikes look, then led the platinum blonde tattooed disaster to the hall bathroom.
“Not a good sign.” Dena poured a second cup of coffee and grabbed a glass of water. “Unless she peed in her pants, I could have sworn she used the bathroom yesterday. Now she can’t remember the route.”
Janie reappeared and hoped Piper wouldn’t require further assistance. She sat back down and shook her head, trying to think of something non-judgmental to say. Nothing came to mind. “Man,” she muttered.
“I drank too much last night.” After popping three Tylenol into her mouth and washing them down with her water, Dena pointed one of her famous red fingernails at the BAGs. “That’s the problem with fucking boxed wine. You never know how much you’ve had till you have a fucking floater.”
“And that’s your first clue?” Allison shook her head and smiled. “Pass that bottle over.”
Janie noticed Suzanne had remained quieter than usual, her eyes focused on bobbing the herbal tea bag around in her mug. She had dressed in beige pressed linen cropped pants with an equally impressive expensive blouse. Between her and Regina, they could have passed for models in a Saks Fifth Avenue ad.
“I want to apologize.” Kleenex clinched in her hand, Suzanne continued. “I’m usually so composed, and I actually yelled. I did. I yelled, and I never raise my voice. I think I said some horrible things.”
The BAGs sitting around the table took Allison’s cue from last night and stayed quiet, not rushing in to rescue their fragile friend. Janie felt relief seeing Piper pad back in. She slumped into the nearest chair and thunked her head on the table.
“You did just fine.” Frannie brought the bagels and English muffins over to the table. “I think it did you good to get riled up. You know, let off a little steam.”
“But I never do that.” Suzanne bit her lip.
“So?” Dena went after more kolaches. “You do remember how far back we all go, don’t you? This prim and proper shit came…hell, I don’t know when it came. How did this all get started, anyway? You were always quiet, but we used to get you to let your hair down once in a while.” She returned with several of the pastry-coated sausages on a plate. “What happened?”
Frannie closed her eyes and pushed the plate in another direction.
“No kolaches this morning, dear?” Dena teased.
“Uh…no.” Frannie’s weak smile revealed the condition of her stomach as she continued. “Yeah, Suzanne, tell us about your life. You know…kids, husbands, affairs, that kind of stuff.” The crack about affairs and the mischievous smile inching across Frannie’s face must have surfaced once the sausage kolaches were well out of range.
“Affairs?” Suzanne’s hand held onto her throat like she’d just swallowed an orange. “Oh, heavens no. I can barely even….” She cleared her throat, but didn’t continue.
All heads leaned in.
“You can barely what?” Janie had consumed a couple of bagels topped with cream cheese, and washed them down with a large glass of orange juice.
Suzanne’s face turned the color of a finger after being wound tightly with a piece of thread. “Well…I...uh….” She gulped her herbal tea.
Piper’s hoarse voice emerged beneath the mass of tangled hair that covered her face, which was still resting on the table top. “Just say it, Suzanne. You can’t be naked in front of your man, right?”
All eyes switched back to the herbal woman in beige who looked like she’d passed embarrassed about ten minutes ago. Her face cringed in a guilty sort of half-smile. “Is that bad? I mean…I’m just so….”
“Modest.” Janie felt the need to rescue poor Suzanne. Hell, she’d hate to think how Matt would describe her naked. “You’re just modest. Stephen, that’s your husband’s name, isn’t it? What does he do?”