Twelve #2
“Oh, honey, that’s not the half of it.” A woman’s voice came, and Trudy’s cheeks started to radiate.
It was unmistakably Caroline Beaumont-Rickard, Dee Dee’s older sister and Trudy’s former best friend.
She should’ve expected this; should’ve known she’d come for Dee Dee’s first game as head cheerleader.
“They made her , of all people, the cheerleader sponsor.”
Trudy’s mouth fell open.
“ No !” Another familiar voice, but one Trudy couldn’t immediately identify.
“Dee Dee showed up to practice, and lo and behold, there was a boy on the squad. You’ll see him out there tonight. Dee Dee’s in knots.”
“I can’t believe that!” The other voice hit her: Prissy Smith, of course. Those two had been thick as thieves ever since Trudy and Caroline stopped being friends at the 1975 gala.
Her hands suddenly unsteady, Trudy fumbled with Pete’s zipper.
“Ow,” Pete hollered. “That hurts my wee-wee!”
“Shhh ! Sorry,” Trudy whispered and fumbled some more.
“You can’t say Trudy Abernathy doesn’t have guts, can you?”
“Hey!” Pete hollered. “That lady sssaid your name!”
If she hadn’t been so stunned, if her nerves hadn’t kicked into high gear, she might have cupped his ears, or motioned for him to keep quiet, but it was too late.
Pete had already burst the door open, his pants around his ankles with his Darth Vader Underoos on full display.
Prissy and Caroline stood frozen, eyes like two raccoons caught atop a garbage can.
Trudy last remembered seeing the two of them at graduation, before they went to Tuscaloosa.
They’d likely been at Jimmie’s funeral, but that entire day remained a blur.
“Trudy!” Prissy squealed and tried for a hug.
“Sorry.” Trudy held up her hand. “Haven’t washed yet.”
She’d hoped Caroline had gotten fat, had gone gray too early, or had grown unsightly skin tags.
Unfortunately, the opposite was true: Caroline Beaumont-Rickard was as lovely as ever, the perfectly refined image for the wife of a senator’s staffer: blond hair cut in wispy layers, cosmopolitan and classy, as if she’d moved to Manhattan or Hollywood instead of Huntsville.
Prissy still had those legendary curls, so tight and bouncy, as if one fetch away from chasing a squeaky ball.
Trudy looked in the mirror; she still hadn’t scheduled that perm, and the bang trim she’d gotten last week didn’t look quite as chic as she’d first thought; it was basically the same haircut she’d had since junior high.
All she needed was a big orange hair bow and a ponytail and she’d be right back in 1975 with Caroline and Prissy standing behind her, all of them fussing in the mirror.
Caroline shifted, one hand fiddling with the other. “Goodness gracious,” she finally said. “He looks exactly like Jimmie.”
“Who’sss Jimmie?” Pete asked.
Trudy suddenly felt three-hundred pounds heavier; she couldn’t bring herself to look at Caroline and Prissy’s reactions.
She patted Pete’s head and ignored his innocent question that was so terribly loaded, the answer to which contained so many nuances he couldn’t possibly comprehend.
She wanted to explain to them that of course, she’ll tell Pete about his father one day, but that day hadn’t come.
She likewise wanted to tell them to mind their own business.
“Not really,” Trudy managed to get out, although she knew Pete had Jimmie’s looks through and through. “He looks more like his grandfather. Come on Pete, let’s wash your hands.” She knelt and pulled his pants up, zipping them successfully this time.
“Trudy?” Prissy said. “Honey, what’s in your hair?”
Trudy reached back, felt something sticky. She leaned sideways toward the mirror and pulled her hair around toward her face.
“Is that gum in your hair?” Caroline looked like she’d smelled a dead mammal.
Vangie. Trudy should’ve suspected her unusual friendliness in the prayer huddle.
Now, Vangie’s gum, pink and spitty, refused to let go of Trudy’s outdated hairdo.
She froze, closed her eyes, willed the moment to go away, then opened them again.
She tried assessing the damage through her peripheral vision.
“Maybe sssome peanut butter will get it out?” Pete said, then he looked at Caroline. “That’s what we did when I got gum in my hair.”
Caroline flashed a patronizing grin at Pete and shrugged. “It’s been so long since I had gum in my hair.”
Caroline and Prissy slid out of the restroom like two water moccasins.
“Who wasss that, Mama?” Pete asked.
“Oh. Some old acquaintances.” Trudy pried and fiddled, but the more she messed with it, the more stuck Vangie’s gum got. She’d have to try to hide it, hope no one noticed.
“What’s kwayne-tusseth ?” Pete asked.
“Um.” Trudy thought for a moment. “An acquaintance ... is someone you know pretty well, maybe you’ve known them your whole life, but they’re not really your friend.”
Normally Haskel and Trudy would sit in Haskel’s reserved seats on the fifty-yard line. Since it was the first game, however, Trudy wanted to be close to the cheerleaders, so they found seats in the faculty section with Miss Duffy and Miss Hyde.
Haskel’s eyes stopped at Trudy’s hair. “Darling, there’s something—”
“It’s gum,” she said. “A little welcome gift from one of my cheerleaders.”
Instinctively, he reached to touch it.
“Don’t.” Trudy held up her hand. “Just makes it worse.”
Haskel pecked her on the cheek. “Well, for what it’s worth, I think you look as beautiful as ever.” He placed his fedora on her head. “There.”
“No. Haskel, it’ll mess up your hat.”
He shrugged. “Need a new one anyway.”
Haskel had a way of making everything okay, and she loved that about him.