Game of Hearts (7 page)

 

The smell of rain lurked in the air. I missed our sunny skies. The weather had been unseasonably wet this year. According to the news, it would be overcast and wet at least through mid-week. We needed a new weatherman, preferably someone who'd predict sunshine. November would soon be over, which meant colder temperatures. Not that it got real cold in the
South
—lows in the thirties, highs in the lower fifties. Southerners considered that cold.

I caught a glimpse of the patchwork design on Sarah's shirt. It appeared to be two different shirts sewn together. The main shirt surrounded her body, and the additional fabric had been cut into the seams on both sides. Even though her clothes had gotten looser because of our morning walks, the patchwork creations had come to be the norm the last couple of weeks.

"We can get you a new outfit if you'd like," I offered. "We're doing better since I've picked up the extra work from Mr. Howard's law office." Jory's husband's bookkeeper had left for maternity leave and decided to stay gone. Thank goodness for stay-at-home moms.

"Let me guess, from the discount store." Sarah spoke under her breath.

"I can't afford to get you name brand clothing. I'm sorry."

"Can I ask you something?" She hesitated. "About Dad?"

"Sure."

"When did you first think you liked him?"

"We met in college. I saw him playing football with a bunch of his friends and thought he looked good. We ended up at the same party later on and, like they say, the rest is history." I pulled the car up to the curb in front of Rachel's yellow three-bedroom home at the end of the cul-de-sac. Rich green manicured lawn greeted us as we stepped from the Honda. "Why?"

"Just wondering."

"Is there someone you're interested in?"

She shrugged.

"Do me a favor and take it slow. You have a lot to offer someone, but don't let him pressure you into anything."

"Mom." She rolled her eyes. "I just like the guy. It's not like we're having sex or anything." She knocked on the oak front door.

Scarlett and Victoria pulled up as Rachel answered the door. Victoria carried a large blue umbrella over her head, though it hadn't rained yet. "Ugh, I hate the rain," she said as Rachel invited us in. "It destroys my hair
.
"

"Your hair looks fine," I said. "Even wet, you look great. Most girls would die to have the hair problems you do."

"Yeah—blonde, full, naturally wavy. To have such hair." Rachel led us into the brick foyer. "Keep complaining, and I'll shave you bald and make myself a wig."

I inhaled a sweet smell coming from the kitchen. Kendra always tried a new recipe whenever we met at her house for cards. I had yet to die from being her guinea pig.

"Sweet and sour pork," Rachel said. "How are you, Sarah? School going good?"

"I suppose. It's school."

"I like your shirt." Rachel gathered up the side, looking at the two different designs. "I've never seen one like it before. It's pretty unique."

Sarah stared down at the floor. "Thanks. I just took an old shirt and added fabric to it."

"That's pretty creative of you. The other girls are in the kitchen getting the food ready, while we ladies head to the living room for some much-needed gossip." Rachel held her arm out in front of her and swayed into the living room in dramatic fashion.

Pale blue carpet covered the floor. To the left of the couch stood a curio cabinet, which held personal memories of Rachel's husband. He'd died a few years ago after a long bout with cancer. I'd always thought of Rachel as being the "together" one in our group, the one with the wit and sarcasm. When her husband had gotten sick, she'd showed how much compassion she had. His passing had almost destroyed her. If it hadn't been for Kendra, she would have fallen apart completely.

I glanced over at her and wondered if she'd be interested in meeting Brandon. I figured I didn't have a shot, but she might.
T
he more I thought about it, the more I realized I didn't want anyone else to have him. Not my good friend and certainly not some faked-boobed waitress at an Italian restaurant.

Jory, wearing a pair of running shorts, sat on the oversized white micro-suede sofa. Her toned thighs and developed calf muscles led into a pair of tennis shoes. Scarlett bounced down beside her. I took a reclining chair across from them. Rachel grabbed a seat next to me. "So how is everyone?"

"Victoria's up for freshman Homecoming Queen," Scarlett gushed. "A couple of her friends told her she's a shoe-in."

"And how's Robert?" I flipped my shoes off onto the floor.

"Oh, Robert's the same." Scarlett waved her hand in front of her.

"Frisky as a frat boy?" Rachel teased.

"Rachel!" Jory laughed. "You know you shouldn't use that kind of language in front of Scarlett. You could scar her virgin ears."

"I know for a fact that while Scarlett is all lady, she hasn't any part of her that's virgin anymore. Not after Robert got hold of her." Rachel gave Scarlett a large grin.

"I resemble that remark." Scarlett blushed. "I guess if I didn't talk so much about my exploits, you wouldn't have anything to use against me."

"At least you're getting some," I interjected. "It's been so long for me, I'm a virgin again."

"Can that happen?" Rachel smirked. "I mean, think about it. If it's been a long time…"

"I doubt it," Jory said. "I don't care what the kids say about the second-generation virginity."

"What the heck is second-generation virginity?"

"Second-generation virgins are kids who have had sex at one point, but decide to abstain until marriage or a committed relationship. I guess they think it'll erase what they've done before." I'm always amazed how she keeps up with the kids' vernacular. I guess it comes from being involved in all the sports activities at the school.

"What kills me are the girls who think because they only have oral sex, it means they're still virgins," Rachel said.

"Rachel, there are children in the kitchen." Scarlett's eyes widened. "Besides, Southern women don't do things like that."

"What exactly is it Southern women do?" Rachel leaned forward with her elbows on her knees. "Being a Yankee, I've always been curious."

"And since I'm from Jacksonville, and we all know Florida's not considered southern to most of you belles, I'd like to hear the answer also." I loved how we teased each other yet no one ever got their feelings hurt.

"I've always wondered about that." Jory brushed at something invisible on her blouse. "Why isn't Florida considered part of the South?"

Rachel reclined back in her chair. "You do that so well."

"What?"

"Change the subject." Rachel and I spoke in unison.

"Dinner's ready!" Kendra hollered from the other room.

"I guess the subject just got changed." Scarlett lifted herself from the sofa. "Reckon we don't want to discuss this at the table with the girls."

"But later on," Rachel said. "I expect you to finish our discussion on what it is Southern women do."

****

"That was good. I've never had a banana fritter before." I placed the ace of diamonds down on the other cards. Rachel threw the ten of spades onto the pile. "Your daughter is a very good cook." Of course, most anything deep-fried tastes good. I should try it with broccoli. The boys might eat it then.

"
They're one of the great wonders of the world." Rachel ran a hand over her mouth.

Sarah entered the room, carrying three glasses. Scarlett grabbed her around the waist. "Have you picked out what you want to do for your science project, Sarah?
Victoria chose to research diabetes. Her grandma's got it, so she's going to interview the doctor."

"I haven't decided." Sarah purposely avoided my eyes.

"Child, you'd better hurry, that's half your grade." Scarlett released her hold and threw a card onto the pile.

"Frankie's doing DNA testing," Jory examined the cards in her hand as she talked. "She wants to go to Atlanta to the crime lab up there. I bet Kendra's doing something real deep."

"She doesn't have a project yet as far as I know." Rachel placed the queen of spades on the pile of cards. "If she does, she'll take care of it. She always does."

"Sarah, I forgot," Scarlett added. "I've got some extra shirts that don't fit me anymore. Would you like them? They're out in the car. I know they aren't the cool things girls wear at your age, and they might be a bit big on you, but they're in good shape."

"That would be nice. Thanks, Mrs. Mitchell." Sarah ran off to join the other girls.

"I don't remember having so much homework when we were in school," I said. "It seems like Sarah's up past eleven every night studying."

"And the tests! Used to be all we cared about were the SATs." Jory shook her head. "Now they have the SAT, PSAT, LSAT, aptitude tests, latitude tests, and whatever other tests they can think of."

"Jory, what exactly is a latitude test?" Rachel said.

"What exactly's an aptitude test? Your aptitude is your talent. How do you test that?"

"I don't know about the rest of you," Rachel said with a
smirk, "but my teachers told me for years I had a terrible aptitude."

I grabbed up the hearts in the pile. Another losing night. Obviously I had no aptitude for this game. "Well you know, I blame the
i
nternet for it all." I leaned back and gave a sigh.

"You always blame the
i
nternet," Jory said.

"Gotta blame something."

"I myself blame MTV." Rachel tossed down the king of hearts, and Jory picked up the pile.

"Why MTV?" Scarlett asked. "What's it got to do with all these tests?"

"Used to be they played music, now they don't. I think if you're called Music Television, you should have to play music." Rachel placed the ace of spades down on the pile of hearts. I had to pick it up, which took me over our 200-point limit.

"And that's why kids today seem to have too much homework?" Jory raised an eyebrow. "Because of MTV?"

Rachel placed her hands behind her head and leaned back. "Gotta blame something."

****

I pulled onto the main road heading home. "That was nice of Scarlett to let you have all those shirts."

"Yeah," Sarah mumbled.

"What's wrong? I'm sure she spent a lot of money on those clothes. You said you wanted name brand, now you have name brand."

"I just didn't realize I was that big."

"What are you talking about? You and I both know they won't fit you."

"Not now. But I'm sure I'll grow into them." She let out a deep breath.

"Hey, you've lost some weight because of our walks. You probably won't be able to wear them too much, at least not without a belt."

"Glad to know I was that fat to begin with."

I gripped the steering wheel. I needed to get off the subject of weight and big clothes, or I'd put my foot in my mouth for sure.

The sun tried to sneak through the clouds. A rainbow shone in front of me. Could it be a sign my pot of gold sat up ahead? "So what are you doing your science project on?" I pulled into the driveway and shifted into park.

"What project?"

"The one you and Scarlett were discussing earlier."

"I don't know." Sarah paused. "I hate doing oral reports. You gotta get up in front of everyone. I feel so self-conscious standing there, like I'm naked or something."

"I think you're supposed to picture them naked, not yourself."

She let out a laugh. "The idea of picturing Mr. Hall naked is just sick, Mom. Besides, you gotta interview someone regarding your subject."

"How about heart disease? We can contact someone at the American Heart Association or a doctor who specializes in it."

"When will I have time to do that? It's due in two weeks, and it's not like you'll help."

"I'll help. In fact, one of Mr. Howard's clients is a cardiologist. I've spoken with his nurse quite a few times." I glanced over at Sarah. "How about I call her and see if you can interview her sometime next week?"

"I guess. It would just be easier if we had the
internet
and PowerPoint."

"I'm sorry, but I can't get you a computer or software with PowerPoint. You'll have to use what's on my computer. Or maybe you could go to Victoria's and borrow hers."

"I don't think so. She's too busy trying to be the beauty queen of the school." Sarcasm came across in her tone. Silence fell between us until Sarah finally spoke. "You said you would get me an outfit this weekend."

"Yes, I did."

"Instead, if this works out with the nurse, maybe we could go to the arts and craft store and get a model of a human heart?"

"There should be a coupon in the paper this Sunday. If you'd rather do that, then that's what we'll do."

"At least then I'll have something new that didn't come from a discount store."