Chapter 1 Members of the Club #3
pressed naval uniform, with his melting-chocolate eyes and teasing smile, still made her a little weak in the knees.
“You’re an idiot,” she said, shaking her head.
“You are a bombshell.” Tony’s eyes traveled over her body. “Va-va-voom!” He stepped across the threshold and locked the door,
backing her up against the countertop and nuzzling her neck.
“Stop, honey,” Viv giggled. “We can’t. The kids.”
“They’re fine. I told them to go outside and wait for the pizza delivery guy.”
“You ordered pizza?”
“Uh-huh.” Tony’s lips moved from her neck to her décolletage. “So you can get ready for your hen party without having to worry
about making dinner. Ain’t I a prince of a guy?”
“Yes. But it’s a book club, not a hen party. And I still need to get ready, Tony. Really.”
“Seriously?” he asked, lifting his head and groaning in response to her nod. “Well . . . okay. But try to come home early.
Because you look amazing, absolutely irresistible.”
She turned to the mirror to fix her lipstick. Tony sat on the counter and watched her.
Viv sighed. “I don’t feel irresistible. I feel bloated, cranky, and tired. If I didn’t know it would hurt Margaret’s feelings,
I’d skip tonight. I only agreed to join because she was so excited about it and because that stupid doctor made me so mad,”
Viv said, her irritation rising. “The nerve of that man! Refusing to write me a prescription for the pill unless you show up to sign off on it. As if I’m a child instead of a grown woman. And as if an officer assigned to the Pentagon has
time for his wife’s doctor appointments!” She stabbed the air with an eyebrow pencil. “If he wasn’t the only gynecologist
in Concordia—”
“I know,” Tony said. “But let it go. I’m taking Tuesday off. We’ll see the doc, get the prescription, and that’ll be that.
Play your cards right, and I might take you to lunch after.”
She smiled. “You know something, Anthony Buschetti? You really are a prince of a guy.”
Tony spread out his hands. “What do I keep telling you?”
Their kiss was interrupted when their eldest, seventeen-year-old Vince, rapped on the door to say the pizza had arrived. “Be right down,” Tony called, then peered into Viv’s face. “You really are tired, aren’t you? Maybe we should rethink the idea of you going back to work.”
“No!” Viv smacked her eyebrow pencil down on the counter. “We always said I’d get back into nursing once the kids were in
school. It’d only be part-time. With Vince starting college next year, we need the money. And I need . . .”
“You need what?”
Tony pulled her close, resting his hands on the swell of her hips. Viv pressed her lips together. When she spoke again, her
voice was hoarse.
“I need to feel important again. I was a good nurse, Tony.”
“Best on base. Best in the whole damned European theater,” he said. “The CO threatened to bust me a rank for taking you away
from it. You are important, Viv. You’re the glue that holds this family together.” He traced a finger on her cheek. “You know that, right?”
Viv bobbed her head. She did know. Viv loved being a mother and was proud that they’d raised six terrific, respectful, clean-cut,
all-American kids—Vince, Andrea, Mike, Nick, Mark, and little Jenny. Not a delinquent in the bunch. But now she wanted more.
Viv had never been much of a reader, and that book Margaret had talked her into reading for the club was so boring that it
practically put her to sleep. But one part—an interview with a housewife who reported realizing one day she’d already hit
all the expected milestones of the feminine achievement and had nothing new to look forward to—sounded a deep chord within
her.
Tony tucked a blond strand that had somehow escaped the hairspray behind her ear.
“You know what? I think you need a break. On Saturday I’ll make pancakes for the kids so you can sleep, then drop them at
a matinee and come back to join you. How’s that sound?”
“You, me, and the house to ourselves for two whole hours? Like heaven.”
“Good. It’s a date.”
Tony went downstairs to pay for the pizza, leaving the bathroom door slightly ajar. Viv opened a package of pantyhose she’d
ordered from Sears, her first. She perched on the toilet seat to don them, amazed at how light they felt compared to a girdle.
Would they hold her in as well? Probably not. But who cared? Margaret said she ought to give them a try, and she was right.
They were so comfortable!
Viv got to her feet to pull them up. The sound of happy, hungry children digging into boxes of pizza wafted through the air,
along with a powerful smell of greasy pepperoni that assaulted Viv’s nose, and then her stomach, making her gag. She spun
toward the toilet, doubled over, vomited twice, then sank to her knees, overcome by an old, all-too-familiar weakness.
“No, no, no,” she murmured, her voice choked and rasping. “Not again. Not now!”
“Viv?” Tony’s voice boomed from below. “You coming? We saved you some pepperoni.”
Pepperoni. Even the word sickened her. She screwed her eyes shut and swallowed bile.
“That’s okay,” she called. “Let the kids have it. I’m not hungry.”
She went to the sink, pulled a flowered paper Dixie Cup from the wall dispenser, and rinsed out her mouth. A minute later,
Tony appeared in the doorway.
“Are you okay?”
“Of course,” Viv said, screwing the top on the toothpaste tube. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You said you weren’t hungry.”
“So? I’m running late, that’s all. Don’t wait up.”
She turned sideways, trying to squeeze past. Tony put a hand out to stop her, frowning.
“Yeah, but honey—you love pizza.”
“Tony,” she laughed, “could you possibly be any more Italian? Just because a person isn’t hungry doesn’t mean something’s wrong. I’m saving my appetite for the book club, that’s
all. I bet you anything that Margaret’s been cooking since dawn, trying to make things special. Remember what happened at
Christmas? I know she tried to laugh it off, but I think that whole thing with Walt really hurt her feelings. She’s been acting
funny ever since, like she’s keeping a secret or something.”
Viv dropped her gaze, speaking more to herself than to her husband.
“Margaret is my closest friend in Concordia, my only friend. I just can’t stand to see her disappointed again.”