Authors: Terry Lee
Chapter 31
Janie - 2012
“We don’t want a couples’ shower, do we? Say no, say no, say no.” Janie sat at her kitchen table with an 8 x 11 tablet in front of her.
“Hell no,” Dena shouted. No matter what volume Dena shot for, her voice always projected like a foghorn.
Janie exhaled relief. “I hate those things.”
“Not as much as the guys.” Dena snorted. “I don’t think Jim would be up for it anyway.” Dena’s husband had recently had a mild heart attack, which had rearranged their entire life. They had brought in another designer to assist, and Dena’s hours had picked up, which Jim hated. He was a “hands-on” type of guy, and “taking it easy” did not settle well.
“Is he doing okay?”
“Yeah. He’s bored as hell, but if he’s a good boy and does what I tell him, he should be back pretty much full time before long.”
“What do you have him doing, answering the phone?”
“Not with his temperament these days. He’s doing some of the smaller event table arrangements, but nothing big.”
“Bet he loves that.”
“Hey, how about those Astros?”
Janie laughed, but knew Dena probably had a white-knuckle hold on her cell phone. Jim’s heart attack had scared the shit not just out of Dena, but everyone. Nothing serious, an illness or death, had happened to any of the BAGs or their significant others since Denise died. They all knew it would happen one day, but Janie was right there with Dena…How about those Astros?
“I haven’t heard back from Piper yet.” Janie glanced at the lack of a checkmark next to Piper’s name.
“That’s a wait and see,” Dena said. “Can’t believe she’s so busy these days.”
Piper’s past answered a boatload of unanswered questions for the BAGs. She never knew her mother, and was not allowed to mention her name. Her father’s family had money. Lots of money. As a child, Piper had lived with her grandparents, where the rules were strict, as was the etiquette at the evening meal, which was the only time of the day she saw her father. She wasn’t exactly sure if he even lived there.
When Piper turned ten her father married a woman named Sherry, who had a fourteen year old son. Shortly after the wedding, they moved into a large house…not quite as glorified as her grandparents’ place, but close. What she
did
know about her father was that he drank. A lot. What she knew about the stepmother was that she was distant, at least to her.
Unfortunately for Piper, the same rules and proper etiquette were required at dinner. Her dad sat at one end of the table with a fresh drink nearby, her stepmother at the other, sipping red wine from a crystal stemmed glass. Piper and stepbrother sat across from one another. Minimal conversation took place during dinner.
Dad and her stepmother were both Sam Houston graduates, and high-dollar supporters of the Alumnae Association. Before marrying Piper’s dad, Sherry had run an early childcare facility. After the marriage she purchased the business. Her new demanding civic obligations in the upper echelon Fort Worth area kept her away from her daily position at the early childcare center, but she kept a tight rein on the budget and personnel.
Piper never knew the maternal feelings of a caring mother. Sherry seemed indifferent to her existence. She knew her dad loved her, but it was just a knowing, nothing overt. She tried to be invisible, which turned out to be pretty easy…or so she thought until that night. She woke up to find her stepbrother all over her. He had his hand over her mouth, but her kicks landed in just the right spot to knock him off her bed. It was the first time anyone had called her a bitch.
She turned to who she thought would be the least dysfunctional people of the family, her grandparents. They nodded, gave her a stiff hug, and said they would take care of it. That evening she was summoned to the study, where she sat across from her dad and stepmother. She could tell her dad had been drinking for a while by the glaze in his eyes and his flushed cheeks. Sherry sat stick-straight on the expensive leather sofa and refused to make eye contact with Piper. The discussion was brief, obviously a recount of what she had shared earlier with her grandparents. They would “review” the matter with Sherry’s son. Review. As if gathering information before they made the final call. In the meantime, she was instructed to say absolutely nothing to anyone. The incident was never spoken of again.
After dropping out of Sam Houston, Piper moved back to the Fort Worth area. Why there, she didn’t know. She worked odd jobs, earning enough to afford an efficiency apartment and keep a bit of cash in her pocket. Several times a week she volunteered at a homeless shelter. Not surprisingly, she felt more at home there than she ever had living with her wealthy parents.
Piper never felt sorry for herself. Somehow she always landed on her feet. She may have seemed to be in the ozone from time to time, but for the most part, she had been able to find more good in people than most.
“So, who are we missing besides Piper?” Dena asked.
“Regina, of course.” Janie walked to the pantry to graze. Thin Mints or granola bar? After all these years she’d finally come to terms with her weight. She walked several times a week and tried to make better choices in the food area. Sometimes it worked. Other times…meh.
“I’ll find her. No worries. Anything else?”
“Nope. We’re good.”
The call ended and Janie grabbed a granola bar. One of her better choices. She moved to the recliner. Looking around the family room and all the memories, she realized they had been in this same house for over thirty years. Her boys had graduated from high school with the same group of friends they’d had in kindergarten. Janie felt fortunate. She got along great with her two daughters-in-law…well, most of the time. She had three precious grandchildren, and cherished every minute being Grandma.
Janie shoved the rest of the granola bar in her mouth and wadded up the wrapper. It could have all gone down so differently. Years ago when she and Matt were having “issues,” her stress level had escalated to the point her doctor had prescribed blood pressure and cholesterol medications, along with a pamphlet entitled “Taking the Stress Out of Your Life.” She had skimmed through it and saw it was a bunch of different breathing techniques.
“That’s all I do is breathe…all the time.” She tossed the pamphlet into the junk drawer. “Geez.”
Actually, Matt had been the one to address the “issue,” which was good because Janie and her denial techniques would have probably just plugged away, ingesting her meds, anger, resentment, and tons of food. Turns out Matt’s infidelities were not with a lot of different women…only one. And to boot…a neighbor. Also turned out that this “neighbor” had many other “neighbor” friends besides Matt. Well, that ended any idea of fun street parties.
She and Matt had separated. Janie stayed in the house because of the boys. A “for sale” sign went up in the
friendly
neighbor’s yard, and within sixty days the trash bag had left the building. Matt profusely apologized. Janie knew how gullible her husband could be, but still. After a while they each entered counseling with their own therapist. They worked together for the boys’ sake to try to keep the dishevelment as minimal as possible. That meant no bad-mouthing trashy neighbor or Matt to any of the BAGs while the boys were in the house.
From their private therapy, they moved on to marriage counseling. Janie didn’t want to break up the family. Neither did Matt. So, what was the answer? Could she forgive him? Trust him ever again? Lucky for her she had the BAGs to turn to. Matt had no one.
They agreed to give it six months. Matt moved back in, and at the marriage counselor’s suggestion, they sat down once a week, face to face, and openly and honestly discussed what went right, what didn’t, identified feelings, that sort of thing. That had been twenty years ago. Matt had been a devoted husband and father ever since. Janie learned she had often projected her unhappiness with her weight issue onto Matt. Tourette-mouth Janie wasn’t strictly reserved for the BAGs, and often didn’t even require alcohol. Not that she was excusing Matt’s infidelity, but in retrospect, these behaviors probably didn’t help any with the temptress slut down the street.
After all these years, they now had the opportunity to share the bay house down at North Padre with Chase and Marcus and their families, just like she had with her parents. Stops were still made at Prasek’s, but oh, how that specialty store had changed. Besides the meat market and bakery, which had both doubled in size, Prasek’s now had a wonderful deli, restaurant eating area, specialty food items, a gift shop, fire pits, grills, rustic furniture, deer stands, and fishing gear. Yeti coolers and an excellent wine selection added yet more class to the place, not to mention covered standalone gas pumps. Prasek’s, today more than ever, remained the main attraction stopover down Highway 59 South (proposed Interstate 69) between Houston and Corpus Christi.
Janie remembered years ago on her drives down to North Padre she’d slam down a couple of Red Bulls for the caffeine high, telling herself the forty-four ounce Dr. Pepper she’d just bought wasn’t doing the trick. Now approaching sixty, caffeine left her wired for sound and “sleepless in Houston” if she even touched the stuff. She’d had to switch her daily happy-hour Sonic drive-through drink to diet limeade because their Diet Coke left her bug-eyed, which pissed her off. Everyone and their mother knew Sonic had the best ice.
“Shit, growing old sucks,” she’d say, sitting in the Sonic drive-through waiting for her drink that wasn’t a Diet Coke.
Be kind to yourself, remember?
Candice, formerly Candy, reminded her often.
Take a deep breath.
“Oh…shush.” Obviously Candice had read the “De-stress” pamphlet.
Chapter 32
For Michelle - 2012
The baby shower for Michelle had been held at Janie’s, which came as no surprise…Janie hosted everything. Dena had been able to locate Regina, and even Piper came in for the occasion. Michelle insisted on something small, saying baby showers weren’t usually for women having their third baby.
“Oh, phooey on that,” Dena said. The gifts were small since Michelle pretty much already had everything she needed, but it was a great opportunity for the BAGs to spend some time with Denise’s oldest child.
“You know your mom’s is smiling from ear to ear right now, don’t you?” Allison asked.
“I thought about that.” Michelle had Denise’s smile. She rearranged herself in the chair and then rubbed her protruding oversized baby bump. “Can you believe I’m thirty-six and having another baby? This is nuts. Just as Joshua is going to start kindergarten.” Michelle had two boys, ages seven and five.
Allison shrugged and gave Michelle a squeeze around the shoulders. “Could be worse. You could be having twins.”
“Do
not
even go there.” Michelle shivered like someone had poured ice water down her back.
“So, you’re still going to wait to see if the jelly bean is blue or pink?” Frannie asked.
Michelle nodded.
“I don’t know how you do it.” Dena shook her head. “I’d be chewing my nails to a nub, and I
never
do that.” Which was obvious to anyone who knew Dena and her beautiful long fingers and perfectly manicured deep red fingernails.
“The way I see it is…if it’s another boy I’ll have everything I need. And if it’s a girl, we’ll get to go shopping.” A look of maternal contentment eased across Michelle’s face.
“If it’s a baby girl, she’ll need some red blingy flip flops,” Dena said. “Extra small. She’ll be a legacy, just like you. You’re a baguette, she’ll be a baguette 2.0.”
Out of respect for the mother-to-be twice over, the hosts waited until the honoree and the rest of the guests left before breaking out the alcohol. Post shower entertainment was what they called it.
After a couple of rounds of drinks, the women seemed to split off into small groups to visit….far different from the round-table conversational jabs that used to take place. Dena had never been intimidated by anyone. Same went for Allison. Piper was still Piper. Suzanne, Denise, Janie, and Frannie used to shy away from one-on-one conversations with Regina. Although back in 1992, Regina and Janie did have a break-through moment when they discovered they both had alter egos.
“I’ve been meaning to tell you.” Janie had pulled Regina aside. “Candy is now Candice. Like in Bergen. The gal had to grow up. And besides, I always loved
Murphy Brown
.”
“Well, I must have really pissed off Snow,” Regina said. “I haven’t heard from her in decades.”
As they aged, old intimidation factors seemed to dissipate, while body expansions and facial lines increased. None of the BAGs seemed bothered by this too much. Even Regina seemed more at ease with herself. The years had also brought about some other changes. Basic personalities remained the same, but attitudes as well as perceptions had developed into more congenial outlooks toward life and others…others besides the BAGs. There seemed to be a genuine interest in establishing or re-establishing relationships with people in general.
During the evening Regina finally divulged the end of her third marriage, but followed up with the announcement she’d met this really nice older man.
“Here’s to our fucking online slut.” Dena raised her wine glass. “And, of course, I mean that fondly.”
Regina waved Dena away and smiled. “Oh, go on.”
“You want more?” Dena took a swig of white wine and flashed one of her perfect smiles. “I got plenty more where that came from.”
“Hey, what code word did you come up with for the f-bomb and the grandkids?” Suzanne still apparently had an issue with actually saying “the” word.
“Pfhh.” Dena sat her glass on the coffee table and ran her deep red polished nails through her thick hair and sighed. “I hate it. I really do. They’re gonna hear it sooner or later, but I’m trying to be the good Nana.”
“So?” Janie sat a bowl of mixed nuts down in front of the group. “What is it?”
“It started out to be ‘freaking,’ which I found very weird. Couldn’t be ‘friggin,’ had to be ‘freaking.’ Now, listen to this…I looked it up so I know what I’m talking about. Freaky is an adjective and means odd, strange, or weird.” Dena rocked her head from side to side. “Okay, not so bad.
But
freak means geek, monster, weirdo, mutant.” Dena paused for a large slug of wine. “And
that
was acceptable! Uh…no. Had to have a talk with the parents on that one.”
She threw her hands in the air, causing the diamond bracelets on her wrists to glisten. “You wouldn’t believe how fucking hard it is to change something you’ve been doing all your life. I mean, c’mon, after all these years. I’m practicing all the time! When I’m putting on make-up, in the car…it’s driving me fucking nuts.”
“So, obviously you’re getting it all out here,” Janie said. The rest of the BAGs held back their laughter.
“Don’t start.” Dena headed for a refill in the kitchen. “Where’d you put my box of wine, anyway?”
“Okay, if it’s not freaking or friggin, then what is it?” Janie yelled.
“Flippin’,” Dena said, returning to the group. “Told ‘em that’s the best I can do. Take it or leave it.”
“Geez, takes the sting out of my three failed marriages.” Regina smiled...a genuine,
natural
smile.
Several of the BAGs stared at Regina.
“What?” Regina immediately touched her face and ran her hand over her perfect shoulder-length hair.
“There’s…,” Frannie cocked her head, “Something…different.”
“Your smile,” Piper said. “It’s not just your mouth. Man, your whole face is smiling. What’s up with that?”
Regina made eye contact with Suzanne. “I was wondering when someone would notice. Does it look better?”
“Hell yeah.” Janie moved in for a closer examination. “Looks great. What happened?”
“Suzanne hooked me up with her brilliant surgeon husband.” Regina’s eyes dropped briefly. “He was able to straighten out some of my…uh…cosmetic mistakes.”
“I’ll be damned.” Dena returned with the box of wine under her arm. “You’ve never looked better.”
The afternoon baby shower turned into an evening event for the BAGS, which required ordering a couple of pizzas, just like the old days so many years ago in their dorm room. Matt had come in around sunset from a day of golf, waved to everyone, and headed to his study.
“I think we need another weekend,” Frannie said.
“Our place is out. Having major plumbing problems.” Janie rolled her eyes. “Can’t think of anything worse than bad plumbing and a bunch of old BAGs with weak bladders.”
“I’ll find us a place,” Allison offered. “How about Jamaica Beach, somewhere down on the west end of the island?”
The group agreed. Galveston for their next BAGs weekend.
“Hey everybody, don’t forget your twinkle toes.” Which was Dena’s nickname for the red bling flip flops. Over the years she’d replaced the original sets for the BAGs several times, and obviously had been way ahead of the fashion curve. Now rhinestone-covered red flip flops could readily be found. Even Academy Sports had a better than average sparkly version.
There was never a time the group of women got together for any length before something from the old days surfaced. Could be who got caught with beer in the dorm, running to jump in bed when they heard the RA coming down the hall for bed check, finding a joint under Piper’s pillow, favorite movies. But more times than not, the Carole King/James Taylor debate flared up. After all these years, “You’ve Got A Friend” was still recognized among most age groups, even though the song had recently celebrated its fortieth birthday.
“I say we take another vote.” Janie’s voice approached Tourette’s level. “All for Carole raise your hand.” Piper, Frannie, and Allison’s hands went up. “Okay, that’s three for Carole. James?” Dena, Janie, and Regina had their turn.
“Suzanne!” Dena’s polished fingernail pointed toward Suzanne, who sat motionless, hands in her lap. “Pick! You can’t be a holdout forever. This is a simple question.”
“I know, I know.” Suzanne pulled in and then slowly released a deep breath. “Denise and I just couldn’t ever decide. Can’t we call it a tie? That’s how we used to settle it.”
“Only because we couldn’t get a vote out of you two. C’mon, ya big baby.” Dena refilled her glass. “Life is tough. Put on your big girl panties.”
“I don’t know.” Suzanne closed her eyes and rubbed the middle of her forehead. The rest of the BAGS sat back.
“Wanna borrow Candice for some advice?” By now, all the women had learned about Janie’s alter ego. Regina never came clean to the group about Snow, and Janie never outed her. The BAGs realized they all had a voice of reason, whether in their head or sitting on a shoulder; they’d just never given a name or personality to their doppelganger.
The group jumped when Suzanne pounded a fist on the coffee table. “Okay! James Taylor!”
“James Taylor!” Three of the BAGs held up their glasses and echoed Suzanne.
“Not my choice, but damn it woman, at least you got it out.” Dena shook her head.
“Oh God, the pressure.” Suzanne fell back onto the couch. “I felt like I was eighteen again. Geez.”
“Well, that settles it.” Janie reached for a handful of mixed nuts. “After all these years we have a tie-breaker.”
“Carole still wrote the song,” Dena said. “That should count for a point.”
“I think we can safely put this to rest.” Allison stood. “I’m a
Tapestry
girl myself, but they both won Grammys. It’s late girls. I’m outta here.” She pulled her keys from her purse. “I’ll see what I can find on Jamaica Beach.”
~~~
The story goes that Carole King wrote “You’ve Got A Friend”
in 1971 and recorded it on her
Tapestry
album. James Taylor, a good friend of King’s, also recorded the song and released it as a single in April of that year. Taylor’s version flew to the top of the charts, hitting #1 by July. The song was not that big of a hit for King, probably because she never released it as a single. However,
Tapestry
blew all the other albums out of the water, spending fifteen weeks at #1 in the U.S. “You’ve Got A Friend” won the Grammy in 1972, Carole King being the songwriter, James Taylor’s version the more popular. He also won Best Male Pop Vocalist. Carole King won Best Female Pop Vocalist and Album of the Year, of course, for
Tapestry
.