Twelve
After the scene at Edie’s grand home, no one had the energy to drive to an area that could be considered metropolitan, so Irene rented a couple of rooms at a roadside motel with her newly minted ID.
“Holly Gomighty, really?” she asked, glaring at Joan. She was still miffed about the lack of input into fake name assignments.
“Just be grateful you didn’t end up as Wilma Thinstone,” Frances complained as she settled her oversized sunglasses on her face. “And who are you, again, Joan? Diana Moss?”
“Mariah Berry.” Joan tossed her Godiva hair over her shoulder for emphasis.
Frances rolled her eyes.
They had taken up places around the motel’s outdoor pool, which was apparently out of use.
Then again, maybe the good people of Hunterville liked their pools to be army green in color.
The lounge chairs were rusty and old, and several of the thick plastic straps stretched across the frames were either missing or busted.
Joan had identified three that were serviceable, and after a vigorous cleaning, the three of them were seated, with iridescent yellow duckie facial sheet masks on their faces, courtesy of Irene.
She was very much into Korean skincare. They looked ridiculous, but Frances wasn’t going to argue—Irene’s skin looked amazing.
A gentleman with an ice bucket was so startled by them as he walked by that he spilled some ice. “What are you looking at?” Irene snapped, and the poor man quickened his pace back to his room, spilling more ice on the way.
Joan made martinis with the gin she’d brought along tucked in between her wigs. It tasted like firewater to Frances.
Irene was the first to broach their failure at Edie’s. “Well? What do we do now?”
Frances’s head hurt. She hoped the martini would cure it.
“We came all the way to Tennessee,” Irene pressed. “Are we really going to leave empty-handed?”
“Not empty-handed—we’ll each go home with a month’s supply of skin care,” Frances said.
“You know what I mean,” Irene said.
Joan sighed. “Edie was clear she does not want to see us, which is rich, seeing as how she’s the one who betrayed us. Anyway, she’s out, and I don’t know if we can accomplish much without the four of us. Which is also rich, as we don’t even know what we’re doing.”
“We could find a replacement,” Irene suggested.
That was the most outrageous thing Frances could imagine. “Just who do you think is going to be up for a heist with the geriatric crowd?”
Irene shrugged. “What about that redhead from back in the day? Remember? Small thing. Cute but dumb.”
Frances tried to claw through the muck of seventy years’ worth of memories.
“She was always hanging around,” Irene reminded them. “Dammit, what was her name?”
“Wait,” Joan said. “Are you talking about Diane Miller?”
“Yes!” Irene said brightly. “Remember? She was desperate to be one of us. I always thought she suspected something.”
“We’ll never know because Diane Miller died right after college,” Joan said flatly.
Irene and Frances gasped. “How?” Frances asked.
“Car wreck. What about Pat Forrester?”
“Pat Forrester!” Irene exclaimed. “That insufferable math genius? Your stupid roommate? Not to mention Pat Forrester is a man, Joan. We’re a girl gang.”
“Maybe we should be a senior citizens gang now since our numbers are drying up. Any warm body will do, won’t they? I mention Pat because he was dressing in my clothes back then, which could be an excellent cover if you think about it. He might want to give it a go.”
“No,” Irene said.
“I agree with Irene,” Frances said. “We don’t invite a man in because he’s worn a dress.”
“That is so … discriminatory,” Joan complained.
Frances’s phone rang. She picked it up to see Marjorie’s name on the display. “I’m going to take this.” She got out of her chair and walked to the door of her room while Irene continued to espouse her many opinions of men.
“Franny? Is that you? Where are you? You sound like you’re in a tunnel,” Marjorie said when Frances answered.
“I’m in Tennessee.” Frances dumped the contents of her bag onto the bed and sorted through her meds until she found the blue pain pills. She glanced at the label and noticed her vision was slightly blurry. That was new. And not good.
“Tennessee sounds wonderful. Anyway, it’s over between me and Dan.”
Frances blinked at the sudden change of topic. She sat heavily on the end of the bed. “Your forever guy?”
“I gave his cheap ring back.” Marjorie sighed. “I got sick of him. He can’t hear, and he won’t wear his hearing aids, and he never wants to do anything but watch golf and Fox News all day long. So, when he asked me if I could get him a cup of coffee, I told him to get out, we were through.”
“Damn, Marge. That didn’t last long.”
“Nothing lasts long at our age. I don’t have time to waste. What are you doing in Tennessee, anyway? Does Aaron know you’re there?”
For the love of Pete, Marjorie was far more concerned with Frances’s son than she was.
“Yes, I texted him,” Frances lied. She had called Aaron from a truck stop in Oklahoma and assured him she was fine and going to the doctor like she was supposed to.
None of that was true. She’d turned into such a terrible liar recently.
Or rather, not a terrible one, as she seemed to do it with ease. But a prolific one.
“But why are you in Tennessee?” Marjorie asked, sounding suspicious.
“I’ve told you. I’m seeing old friends. One of my old friends and I are visiting another old friend. Who happened to be my best friend many years ago.”
“Who?”
Why had she even said that? “Um … Nancy,” Frances said, pulling the name from air. Now, that sounded like a lie.
Marjorie clearly thought so, too. “Nancy who?”
“Nancy … Reagan.”
That was met with silence.
“I know, wild coincidence, right? She gets looks all the time.”
“Seriously, Fran?”
“Seriously. But it was a bust. We had a falling-out a long time ago, a bad one, and I was hoping she’d be over it, but she’s not, so …
” To her amazement, her eyes suddenly filled with tears.
Edie’s rejection had hurt more than she’d realized.
She said, tearfully, “I was really hoping she would be. Isn’t that silly?
It’s been more than forty years, and I was hoping she’d let it go.
But I guess I’m going to my grave without reconciling.
” She blanched the moment those words tumbled out of her mouth, her belly clenching at the thought of a grave.
“I know how that is,” Marjorie said. “I never did make amends with my sister and then she died on me. When are you coming back? You’re my best friend now, and I miss you!”
“I’ve only been gone a little more than a week, Marge. And anyway, we’re driving to Kansas City next.” Another lie that rolled trippingly off her tongue.
“Kansas City! Now what?”
“Another friend. Our last friend to check up on.”
“Who, Hillary Clinton?”
Frances smiled. “No, actually, it’s … Diane Miller. We’re sort of doing a high school reunion without the high school, you know?”
“Not really,” Marjorie said. “Hey, speaking of reunions, remember that cute little doctor from the hospital the day you fell?”
Frances’s heart picked up its pace, preparing to panic. She pressed two fingers to her aching temple. “Dr. McPherson?”
“I ran into her at Whole Foods. She has two cute little kids and was dressed like she just walked out of a J.Crew catalog. Very cute. But she was buying those daikon radishes. You know, the big white ones? I can’t abide them and can’t imagine who would.
I always thought they looked like a dick and taste like one, too. ”
“Marge!” Frances laughed. She opened the pill bottle and shook two out.
“She didn’t remember me at first, but then I told her I was with the old broad who fell and busted her head open. Then she remembered.”
“You spoke to her?”
“I’m a very friendly person. Of course I spoke to her.”
“What did she say?”
“She asked how you were. And if you ever went to see Dr. Jackson. Who’s that?”
Jesus, what were the odds? She loved Marjorie, but her friend seemed to be ten feet deep into Frances’s business right now. “Oh, you know, some follow-up they wanted me to do. But you know how it is. I couldn’t even get on his schedule for months, so I just blew it off.”
“Franny! You have to go when and where they send you. Anyway, I told her you were fine, running around with friends like you were in your thirties all over again. She was very impressed.”
Frances closed her eyes. She popped the two pills and swallowed them dry. “That’s because people can’t envision what it’s like to get old. They expect us all to be on walkers.”
“So, listen, when you’re through in Kansas City, maybe I could fly out and meet you. We could do something fun. Maybe get into a little trouble.” She giggled.
Good Lord. Marjorie had no idea what sort of trouble Frances was looking to get into. “Better idea. Why don’t you go to bridge club and find a new guy?”
“I can’t. Dan is dating Helen now, and she runs the bridge club. Oh my gosh, look at the time. I’m going to be late for square dancing. Call me.”
Frances promised she would. She hung up, then lay on her back on the bed, her eyes closed.
She didn’t think about Marjorie in one of those too-short square dancing dresses, although it was tempting to imagine it.
She thought of Edie. The depth of her disappointment was quite surprising.
She considered herself a practical person, and the odds of this ever working had been practically zero from the beginning. But Edie wouldn’t even speak to them.
She had so many questions now that she’d seen her.
She wanted to know what work she’d had done to her face and body, because she was stunning, still as beautiful as she’d ever been.
She wanted to know how she’d managed to stay with Simon all these years.
How many children had she birthed, and did she achieve the big family she’d always wanted?
Who were her friends, was she happy in that extraordinary house with that extraordinary garden?
Did Edie know how important she’d been to Frances’s life?
She’d truly loved her like a sister, she missed her like a sister, and she needed to say it all before she died.
Unfortunately, she’d been around long enough to know that wishes were just that, and not all of them came true.
So many things left undone.
She made herself sit up. She paused, dizzy. She reached for her pills and took one that was supposed to help with the dizziness, which was a side effect of the pill that was supposed to keep the tumor from growing. When the dizziness had passed, she slowly stood.
Maybe it was for the best that Edie had kicked them out of her house and they weren’t going through with it. Frances really didn’t know how much longer she had before she wouldn’t be able to get out of a bed.