Twenty-eight #2
“Just the way girls used to look at you,” Frances said wistfully.
“Probably still do.” She was thinking of when they’d been young and full of life with no thought of mortality.
She was thinking about it because she didn’t feel well.
The pain behind her eye had started up again.
Maybe it was anxiety or because she hadn’t eaten.
Or maybe the cancer was growing exponentially, and she didn’t know it.
Whatever the cause, she couldn’t keep gulping painkillers like an addict.
Tavon arrived with their meal, and they ate while listening to the conversation between Marcy and Rocco.
The two talked about what they’d been doing since they last saw each other a couple of years ago.
He said he was glad she was doing well. She said she was glad he was, too, like he’d never swindled her.
Then Rocco began to brag about himself. “I’m, like, one of the youngest people to ever own a casino,” he said as he flagged down a waiter. “A lot of articles have been written about it.”
Frances stuck two fingers in her mouth and mimed a gagging reflex.
“Bring us a bottle of the Dom,” he commanded, and to Marcy, “I hope you like good champagne.”
Edie snorted and rolled her eyes.
“What else have you been up to besides being the youngest person to own a casino?” Marcy asked.
“Setting the world on fire, baby.”
“Oh my God,” Frances muttered.
“I’m going to have the first crypto casino.”
Edie covered her earpiece. “Can you believe how he mentions crypto like he never ripped her off?” she asked hotly.
“That’s so cool, Rocco,” Marcy gushed.
“Yeah,” Rocco agreed. “A lot of people are calling me the next Elon,” he said. “Literally no one has accomplished an all-crypto casino before.”
“That’s so impressive,” Marcy cooed.
“I am literally going to vomit,” Frances moaned.
Rocco continued to talk, and Marcy continued to coo and say things were so wonderful and so sick and wow, she was so impressed. But then Rocco shifted closer. “I’m not going to lie—you look hot as fuck, Marcy.”
Edie jerked her gaze in their direction. Frances put a hand on her arm and shook her head.
“I got a penthouse suite here. It’s sick. Want to check it out? I guarantee you’ve never seen anything like it. Not even Trump has anything like it.”
“Gosh, Rocco,” Marcy said. “I’d love to, but if I don’t get back to my friends soon, they’ll call in a search party. Rain check?”
Frances and Edie stilled.
“Come on,” he said. “Call your friends and tell them you’ll see them later.”
“I really shouldn’t.”
“Well … what about tomorrow?”?”
“Maybe,” she said coyly, leaning into him.
“Here, give me your phone and I’ll type in my number.
” Rocco handed over his phone without question.
She leaned against his shoulder and typed in her number.
She handed him the phone, slid out of the booth, then leaned over, so that her breasts were at his eye level.
“It is so great running into you, you don’t even know,” she said in a husky whisper. “You’ve made my trip.”
Rocco smiled up at her like a little boy smiled at a puppy. Marcy didn’t linger; she wiggled her fingers in a precocious goodbye wave and walked away, her hips swaying. Frances and Edie watched Rocco watch her.
“That kid is a fast learner,” Frances said.
“Yeah,” Edie said. “I should be so proud.” She lifted her hand to signal Tavon. “We need to get out of here, sweet cheeks.”
“Absolutely,” Tavon said, and hurried to close out their tab.
They met up at the house as planned, arriving separately from Marcy.
Frances was the first one in, intent on getting to her room and lying down before the contents of her supper came up.
She slipped through the door in case Joan and Irene were asleep.
But they were not asleep—they were sitting on the couch, practically in each other’s lap.
Irene leapt to her feet, her cheeks turning pink. She shoved her hands in the pockets of her jeans. “You’re back. How did it go?”
“Amazing,” Frances said, her gaze flicking between the two of them.
“Don’t mind me. I’m just going to …” She pointed to the door of her room, intending to go in, but Edie burst in at that moment, Marcy on her heels.
Marcy’s eyes were shining with triumph as she sailed into their midst. “You should have seen me!” she said excitedly and plopped onto the couch next to Joan in the spot Irene had just been sitting.
“I take it you are pleased with the results?” Joan asked dryly.
“I think so, don’t you, Nana?” Marcy quickly recounted the meeting, how she’d spilled her drink, how Rocco was asking to see her tomorrow. “He’s already texted me twice.” She giggled.
“Don’t respond right away,” Edie said. “Let him chase you.”
“Oh, he’s texting again,” Marcy said, her gaze on her phone. She smiled as she read what he texted, then her thumbs flew as she replied.
The four older women exchanged looks. “Marcy, put your phone down,” Edie commanded her. “You don’t want to seem too eager. And we have a rule.”
“Our number one rule,” Joan interjected. “Don’t fall for the mark.”
“As if,” Marcy said, her gaze still on her phone.
“Marcy—” Edie started.
“Nana,” Marcy shot back. She lowered her phone. “I’ve got this.”
“Oh Lord,” Irene said. “Nothing says disaster like an overconfident newbie.”
“As long as contact was made,” Joan said.
“Oh, it was made,” Marcy boasted.
Joan stood up. “Be careful, Marcy. Now, while you two were out enjoying your fine dining—”
“It wasn’t that fine, believe me,” Frances said. She sat heavily on the couch next to Marcy, her body unwilling to hold her up another moment.
“I’m sorry, Franny, was dinner too much for you?” Joan asked sweetly.
Frances waved a hand at her. “Thank you for your concern, but I’ll recover. You were saying?”
“I was saying that while you were gone, Irene and I checked out the casino and measured the distance from the stairwell to the vault to the employee entrance. And then, we had a drink and had a talk.”
“Lovely,” Frances murmured. She really needed to go to bed. She settled for rubbing the spot above her brow.
“Joan,” Irene said, her voice low and full of warning. “Maybe now is not the time.”
“Not the time for what?” Edie asked. “What’s happened?”
“Nothing has happened,” Joan said. “Well, I mean nothing bad.”
Now Joan had everyone’s attention. “What?” Edie demanded.
“I was hoping for something a little calmer, but here goes—what’s happened is that some of us have lived our lives with regret and choose not to do so any longer. Especially since we could all end up in federal prison.”
“Prison?” Marcy said, her attention snapping away from her phone. “You said we wouldn’t!”
“We are not going to end up in federal prison,” Frances said. “We’ve been over this. We’re very good at what we do.”
“Well … we were good,” Joan said. “Who knows what we are now, but I guess we’ll find out. Anyway! What I’m trying to say is that life is about love and relationships and all the opportunities that may have passed you by that somehow come around again.”
“I’m not following,” Edie said, confused.
“Irene and I don’t want to miss those opportunities again.”
“What are you talking about?” Frances demanded.
“We got married,” Joan said, and grinned. “At a chapel. Just across the street from the Pelican. Very convenient, actually.” She held up her left hand to show off a green plastic ring. “We’ll get rings later.”
Joan’s announcement was met with silence. Frances was too shocked to even breathe. For heaven’s sake, she’d only just caught on to the fact that they were gay. And together. And now they were married?
“Well?” Irene implored. She went to Joan’s side, slipping her arm around her waist. “Aren’t any of you going to say anything?”
“I think it’s amazing,” Marcy said, and bounced up from the couch to hug them both.
Joan looked over her head at Edie and Frances.
“I’m … so surprised,” Edie said carefully. “I mean I know you two were …” She couldn’t seem to find words.
“We weren’t open with it fifty years ago, but times have changed, and it’s been hanging over our heads all this time.
We agree, we refuse to live regretting the thing we couldn’t have in our twenties.
And, you know, we don’t have all the time in the world now.
So, we decided there is no better time than the present.
Before we either kick off or end up in prison. ” Joan laughed.
“Stop saying that,” Frances insisted.
“Well, congratulations, you two,” Edie said, coming forward to hug them. “But I am never going to get over you doing this without inviting us.”
“We took advantage of an empty chapel,” Joan said. “But you can throw us a party.”
Edie said she would, and they laughed, and talked about how surprised they both were that their feelings were still there. But then Joan looked at Frances. And so did Irene. Then Edie and Marcy.
Frances’s reluctance to stand had less to do with them than the terrible pain in her head. “It’s so sudden.” She wasn’t sure if she meant the pain, or the cancer, or their marriage, or this heist.
“It’s wild, I know, Franny,” Joan said kindly. “But so are our plans to rob a casino. You tell me—which is the crazier idea?”
Frances forced a laugh. “You make a good point.” She came to her feet and made her way to the happy couple.
“Congratulations. Next time, clue a person in, will you? Like … at the beginning. I’m happy for you both.
” Frances put her arms around them and hugged them to her, then let go.
“I guess some hearty thanks are in order for me, right? Because if it wasn’t for me—”
“Oh Jesus,” Irene said. “Even I can’t dispute it. Thank you, Frances Delafield.”
“Deluca,” Frances said, and kissed Irene’s cheek.
She was happy for them. Stunned, but happy that they’d found what they wanted and needed. She was truly grateful for it. And for this time in her own life.
Yes, she was eternally grateful for this very special time in the last days of her life, even with a massive headache.