2. Jeanie
CHAPTER 2
Jeanie
When Jeanie Florence's roommate, forty-five-year-old Vicki, stumbles in on New Year's morning, the first thing she does (after dropping her shoes and purse near the door), is to sit on the couch and light a cigarette.
"So?" Vicki asks, swiping at the smears of mascara under her own eyes. "How did you ring in the new year, princess?"
Jeanie is in cutoff denim shorts and a yellow t-shirt, vacuuming the living room rug. She's determined that 1966 is going to be the year she gets her life in order, and that starts with her apartment. She turns off the vacuum.
"I went to the party at the Stardust Beach Hilton."
Vicki lifts an eyebrow and swings her legs around so that her bare feet are propped up on a throw pillow at one end of the couch, her head resting on a pillow at the other end. She blows a stream of smoke skyward. "Did you make out with any cute astronauts at midnight?"
"I did not," Jeanie says resolutely. "In fact, I kissed a woman at midnight."
Vicki's feet come swinging back around and she's sitting up again, looking at Jeanie with newfound interest. "Well, baby girl. This just took a turn." She pats the couch next to her and Jeanie comes to sit. "Was she at least pretty?"
Jeanie laughs. "She was, but it wasn't like that."
Vicki spreads her hands wide and looks around the room like she's trying to convince an audience to be on her side. "Hey, there's no judgment here, babe. Anything goes." Vicki leans forward and ashes her cigarette into a glass dish on the coffee table. "I went home with two pilots last night, so I'm in no position to lecture anyone else about their sexual choices."
Jeanie blinks a few times at this news. Two pilots ? She has so many questions.
"Listen," Vicki says, heading her off at the pass. "So you kissed a woman. It's fine."
This makes Jeanie laugh. "No, seriously. She was about ninety." Vicki puckers her entire face at this. "I was getting my shawl from the coat check at the same time she was. She asked if she could kiss me for good luck, so we gave each other a hug and exchanged cheek kisses. I figured if she's ninety, she probably needs a little luck."
Vicki goes back to smoking her cigarette as she shakes her head. "You're a kinder woman than I am. I would have been in that ballroom when the clock struck midnight, looking to steal a husband from a drunk woman, so I had someone handsome to plant one on me as the confetti fell. Wait--there was confetti, right?"
Jeanie shrugs. "Yeah, I guess there was. I saw some people coming out of the ballroom with confetti in their hair." She goes quiet for a moment, sandwiching her hands between her bare knees and rolling her shoulders forward. "But I can't lie to you, Vick: it wasn't an amazing night."
"No?" Vicki reaches over and tucks a stray strand of hair behind Jeanie's ear; it's a maternal move that makes Jeanie smile. "What happened?"
"I had a bit of a confrontation with Jo Booker."
Vicki taps her cigarette against the side of the ashtray and lifts an eyebrow. "The lady whose house we were at on the Fourth of July?" she asks, referring to the barbecue at the Bookers' house the summer before when Bill had received the bad news that his first wife was dead.
"Mmhmm." Jeanie is distracted. She chews on the inside of her cheek. "But actually, maybe I shouldn't call it a confrontation. That's too strong. We ran into one another on the dance floor, and she was sort of grilling me about how often I see Bill at The Black Hole."
"Uh oh. Trouble in paradise. You want to run from that, princess. Take my word for it.”
"I want no part in it," Jeanie assures her. "I can promise you that."
"What did you tell her?"
"I said I certainly don’t go there every evening, and that I only see him there occasionally. Which is all true."
"But?"
"Did that sound like there was a 'but'?"
"It most certainly did." Vicki pulls her bare feet up onto the couch and lounges on the armrest and the throw pillow as she aims her smoke away from Jeanie.
Jeanie exhales loudly. "Well, I do see him there at least once a week, and...there's something I never told you." She looks at her hands and not at Vicki. "A year ago, Bill and I kissed."
"Jeanette!" Vicki chuckles, impressed. "Oh, honey. I did not see that one coming."
"I shouldn't have even told you, but I feel like other people know, and it's getting into my head."
"How so?"
"Well, sometimes I walk into a room and the other women go quiet, or I feel them watching me. I just get the feeling that it's not as big of a secret as I think it is."
"Do you think Bill told anyone?"
"Oh, no. No way." Jeanie is certain of this. "He would never. It happened the night of the accident at NASA, and we were in a stairwell. Completely alone. I'm not sure how anyone could know about it."
Vicki takes a long, thoughtful drag on her cigarette. "Maybe it's just conjecture. Or maybe there was someone in the stairwell when you two walked in, and they were a floor up or down. Is that possible?"
A leaden feeling spreads through Jeanie's stomach and she bends forward at the waist, letting her forehead touch her knees. She groans. “God... I'm not sure. Maybe." She lifts her head reluctantly and turns to look at Vicki. "This is my career, Vick. My life. And I'm screwing it up over a married man? Who does that?"
Vicki is taking another drag on her cigarette and she tips her head from side to side as though she's considering this. "Well, I've known a gal or two..."
"Vicki," Jeanie says forcefully. "I'm acting like a whore. Do you think I'm trash?"
"Okay." Vicki sets her cigarette in the ashtray and scoots forward on the couch so that she and Jeanie are nearly touching shoulders. "First of all, let's not assume that ladies who choose to sell their wares are 'trash.' That's not very forward-thinking of us."
"You're right. I'm sorry." Jeanie holds up both hands. "I'll retract the 'whore' comment."
"But regardless," Vicki goes on, "you are not trash, princess. You are a beautiful, young, somewhat naive girl with an enormous heart. You're a romantic, and you've gotten a bit caught up in a situation that you aren't sure how to navigate. Is that all palatable so far?"
Jeanie puts her elbows on her knees and her hands over her mouth as she nods, eyes wide. "Yeah, that sounds right."
"You are not the first nor will you be the last woman who ever falls for the wrong guy." Here, Vicki lets out a laugh that ends up sounding like she's remembering something private. "And anyhow, it takes two to tango, babe. You know that."
"Sure," Jeanie agrees. "And some would say that he's the one at fault, but I haven't stopped talking to him at work. And we've tried being friends, going to The Black Hole for casual drinks. I just feel like..."
"Like it's not casual?"
Jeanie doesn't want to admit this, but Vicki is right. "Yeah. I feel like I'm playing with fire."
"Oh, you are." Vicki reaches over and rests a hand on the younger woman's back, rubbing in small, soothing circles. "You are most definitely playing with fire. But honey… if I were young and beautiful again," she says, sounding wistful. "I have to be honest with you—I’d probably do things I shouldn't do."
Jeanie looks at her with wonder. "Like kiss married men?"
Vicki shrugs. "Maybe. But mostly I'd realize what kind of power my beauty really held. I'd take it out for a drive, put the top down, and really push it to the max. See where it took me. When we're young women, the world holds us back. It tells us we're not pretty enough. That we don't deserve the things we have. It tells us not to appreciate our own beauty, and that anything we achieve is through luck, not hard work. It makes us act smaller than we are—don’t act small, Jeanie! Live big. Love big. Let your heart run wild."
Jeanie frowns. "It sounds like you're encouraging me to pursue something with Bill."
"Not at all! Don't misunderstand me here. All I'm saying is that youth and beauty are power, and you shouldn't tuck them away so as not to tempt a man. Keep living your life, and Bill Booker will decide for himself what he needs to do. No need to go after him, but hold your head high and understand that a kiss is just a kiss. If nothing else has happened, then move on and let him wrestle with the guilt that he has—it’s not your job to hold him accountable."
"That makes sense," Jeanie says slowly, though she really likes Jo Booker, and a part of her feels entirely responsible for anything that's gone on with Bill. She had the power to not kiss him, to not go to The Black Hole with him, and to not think of him at all.
"I see that look on your face," Vicki says, pushing herself off the couch and standing tall. She stretches her arms over her head. "You're second-guessing everything I just said. Don't." Vicki leans over and puts a kiss on the crown of Jeanie's warm head. "I'm going to get some sleep, princess, because I got none last night. You, however, should get some sun."
Jeanie smiles up at Vicki, but it's a half-hearted smile. "You're right," she says. "I should."
And because Vicki is going to sleep and Jeanie can no longer run the vacuum, she changes into a one-piece suit and wanders down to the giant turquoise swimming pool in the center of the Sunny Tides Condominium Resort community. She chooses a chaise lounge in the sun and puts on her sunglasses as a group of gray-haired women stands around in the shallow end of the pool, fists on hips, gossiping.
Jeanie smiles at them and opens Up the Down Staircase by Bel Kaufman. Within minutes, she is entirely engrossed in the feeling of the warm sun on her skin, the characters in her book, and the sounds of happy chatter and splashing water.
Jo and Bill Booker are pushed from her mind entirely.