On Tuesdays, They Played Mah Jongg (12 page)

Arlene let Florence go as she stepped back and pulled a Kleenex from her sleeve to wipe her eyes. At this point, all the girls were pulling Kleenex from their sleeves and wiping their eyes, including Florence.

Arlene reached for Florence’s hand and broke the silence, “Florence, I have known you longer than anyone here, and I was the first person you met when your father moved your family here during World War II to work as a barber at Fort Eustis.”

She started to cry again, but she was able to say, “And, I have never seen you look more beautiful than you look today.”

“Oh, she is right,” Rona chimed in.

“Florence, you do look well and happy,” Doreen added.

“You do look good, Florence,” my mother said. “However, you could use some eye liner.”

The girls laughed. As usual, my mother managed to insult her while trying to say something nice. Funny thing though was that you did not realize my mother had insulted you until it was too late.

“Well, what are we waiting for, let’s sit down and play,” Florence finally said.

All, except my mother, who as host sat out the first game, seated themselves at the table and got their “mojo” on the tiles. As they built their walls, each would look at Florence and smile approvingly, and she loved it, for the first time in her life, she was the center of attention. She was even given the honor of being East in the first game.

I decided to stick around for a few minutes, since I was not meeting my friend for dinner until 8:00 pm.

The girls’ did the Charleston twice then passed the requested tiles across the table. As my mother walked around the table, preparing to place her bet, she asked Doreen, “Where were you today?”

“I spent the day with Sammy,” Doreen answered.

“Who is Sammy?” Rona asked.

“My husband, Rona,” Doreen said a little annoyed.

“What is this world coming to?” Rona said sarcastically.

As East, Florence threw the first tile — Six Dot.

My mother inquired, “Were you discussing a divorce?”

“No, we are actually trying to save our marriage,” Doreen answered as she picked up a Green Dragon from the wall and discarded it.

Rona continued, “I can now die happy knowing I have lived a full life, as I have heard everything.”

Having heard enough, my mother then turned her attention to Arlene and said, “Arlene, I called your house this morning, and William told me you were at work, and when I called there, they said that you were not to come in today.”

“Flower. I didn’t go to work today,” Arlene said as she discarded the tile she had picked from the wall, “I borrowed my son’s car and went to see a lawyer. Then, I went for a drive.”

“Five Bam. A lawyer?” Doreen asked as she kept the tile she drew from the wall and discarded one from her hand, “I hope not Alvin Diamond.”

“Yes, Alvin,” Arlene said. “I am thinking of getting a divorce.”

“I don’t believe it,” Florence interrupted as she picked a tile from the wall and pondered whether to keep it. “I am gone eight weeks, Doreen is seeing her husband and Arlene is getting a divorce. Tell me Rona, has Morton fucked you yet? Seven Dot.”

“Florence!” my mother said as she looked over at me, and I was laughing at Florence, who also looked at me and winked. I think that was the first time I heard one of them say fuck, at least in front of me.

Rona quickly answered, “Not yet, Florence.”

“Thank God, some things never change,” Florence answered back.

“I’ll take that Seven Dot,” Doreen said as she picked up the tile and exposed a pung. “You two have been married for 40 years.”

“Actually it is 42 years,” Arlene corrected her. “Forty-two of the best years of my life wasted working my ass off, watching my husband put everything in his name, so that I could not get my hands on it. Soap.”

“I’ll take that,” Florence said as she picked up the white dragon exposing a kong. “But a divorce? Three Dot.”

“I’ll take that,” Arlene said as she picked up the tile and exposed a kong. “Yes. It is the only way that I am going to get my hands on any of the money. What else can I do? Wait for my old age? It is too late for that. Two Bam.”

As my mother walked around the table watching the game, she said, “When I first met you, you were the happiest couple that I ever knew.”

“I’ll take that,” Florence said picking up the Two Bam and exposing another pung. “Face it, Hannah. There is no such thing as a happy marriage. At least as I see it. You spend every day trying to change each other. You fight about the same things, and nothing ever changes. One Dot.”

“Seven Crack. You sound so cynical, Florence,” Doreen stated as she tossed the tile she just drew.

“Nine Dot,” Arlene said as she threw the tile she had just drawn from the wall. “Florence is right.”

“I’ll take that,” Rona said as she picked up the Nine Dot, exposing a kong, “Look at Morton and me. I love him, and I think he loves me, but we aren’t happy. Lately, I have been thinking about having an affair. Four Bam.”

“Oh? Who will cater it?” Florence asked, and the girls stared at her. Florence looked up and then at Rona and said, “Oh, not that kind of affair ... I will take that Four Bam,” Florence picked up the Four Bam and said, “Mah Jongg.”

“Oh fuck!” Rona exclaimed, making that the second time I heard one of them use that word.

Later that same evening, after Arlene and Doreen left, Rona and Florence stayed behind to help Hannah clean up. With the last plate drying in the dish rack, they sat at the kitchen table. Hannah lit a cigarette and Rona, who had smoked all of her Mores, pulled an Eve from Hannah’s pack. Florence also reached for one of Hannah’s cigarettes, arousing shock in both Hannah and Rona.

“Since when do you smoke, Florence?” asked Hannah.

“I thought that was one habit you never picked up,” Rona chimed in.

“In rehab, they don’t allow you any vices, except smoking,” Florence answered. “So, most people leave as chain smokers. They give me a headache, so I only smoke one or two every few days.”

They watched as Florence lit her cigarette and took a tentative puff, and they were quite pleased to see that she did not cough, although Rona could have sworn that Florence did turn a little green. They continued to stare at her as she enjoyed her new habit. Watching their little friend pop pills and have a cocktail never aroused as much interest as watching her smoke. It was as if the world had turned upside-down.

“What?” Florence asked, noticing the attention she was getting.

Realizing she was staring, Hannah decided to change the subject, “Do you think that Arlene really will go through with the divorce?”

“I hope she doesn’t,” Rona offered. “She needs to stay with William.”

“Why should anyone stay in a loveless marriage?” Florence asked.

“Hannah, Florence, do you realize how much money William has that Arlene can’t get her hands on?” Rona asked.

“No, but I am sure you know,” Hannah said, acknowledging Rona’s knack for knowing everyone else’s business.

Rona continued, “Well, William was in the deli with his accountant two weeks ago, and I just happened to be sitting in the booth behind them, while I was going over the daily receipts.”

“You just happened to be in the booth directly behind them,” Hannah interrupted.

“Doreen had dropped in,” Rona said.

“That explains it,” Florence stated.

Florence and Hannah looked at each other as if on cue, and then looked at Rona, waiting for the story to continue. Rona took a puff and feigned annoyance while flicking her cigarette in the ash tray. She took a sip of her coffee and said, “So, I happen to seat the customers to my advantage. It’s my right. I own the goddamn place! If you don’t want to hear the rest of the story …”

“We want to hear it, we want to hear it,” Florence and Hannah said in unison.

Rona looked at each of them. She then leaned forward as if she did not want anyone else to hear. “Anyway, it seems that William has successfully put nothing in Arlene’s name, and do you know that he only gives Arlene $200 a week, from which she has to cover all of the household expenses?”

“No wonder she only serves Brach’s orange slices when it is her turn to host a Mah Jongg game,” Hannah said.

“Don’t forget the bottle of Diet Rite Cola that William usually finishes before we get there,” Florence added.

Rona continued, “He has accumulated over $6,000,000 in assets and that does not include the house or Feld’s Department Store.”

“What about the 1954 Nash Ambassador?” Hannah asked.

“That is the only thing in Arlene’s name. However, he only has $500,000 cash on hand,” Rona answered, “Guess what he has done with the rest of the money?”

The girls looked at her with wonder, knowing Rona was dying to tell them.

“Over the years, he has deposited it all in accounts in his mother’s name, and she has made him the sole beneficiary in her will.”

“Why did he do that?” Florence asked.

“So that in case Arlene ever tried to divorce him …” Hannah began.

“She wouldn’t be able to get her hands on the money,” Rona finished.

All three of them took a puff and exhaled slowly as they pondered Arlene’s predicament. Forty-two years of marriage and for what — a 1954 Nash Ambassador, a split-level ranch on Teakwood Drive, and half of $500,000.

Florence put out her cigarette first and asked, “What are you going to do with this information, Rona?”

“I am going to tell Arlene,” Rona said as she put out her cigarette.

“Won’t that make her angrier and more determined,” Hannah asked Rona, as she snuffed out her cigarette.

“William’s mother happens to be almost 100, and I am going to suggest she wait until the
alta cocker
dies before getting a divorce?” Rona said.

“You realize of course that Doreen has already told her,” Hannah said.

“But I told Doreen not to say a word,” Rona assured her.

“They rode home together tonight,” Florence said. “My guess is Doreen told her after she started the car.”

They each took another cigarette from Hannah’s pack of Eves, and as they lit their cigarettes and took a puff, they knew that Doreen had told Arlene everything.

As she drove home, Florence thought about her life and how she had finally conquered her addictions, but she also thought about the conversation she had with Rona and Hannah about Arlene. She realized she needed more in her life than Mah Jongg and gossip.

The next day, Florence signed up for an extra ballroom dancing class, pursuing her hobby more diligently in the hopes of dancing in a showcase.

In addition, she found a part-time job running the kitchen for a senior citizens recreation center, serving lunch three times a week.

Her additional ballroom dancing and her new job made her feel fulfilled and gave her purpose, but most of all, it allowed her to spend time with people who were not obsessed with each other’s private lives.

Eventually, she played less and less Mah Jongg because as she put it, “The clicking of the tiles gives me a headache.”

12

Rona arrived at Donald’s Follicle Forum earlier than usual the following Friday as Sapperstein’s Delicatessen was catering a breakfast meeting. The weather in Newport News, as in most coastal cities, went from one extreme to another. Just a few weeks prior, the temperature was in the 50s, and in the middle of June, it had reached the 90s. With the advent of hot weather, Donald was wearing even less than usual. He was dressed in tight white jeans that bulged in all the right places and a ribbed yellow tank top that showed off his huge biceps with their thick veins as it hugged his square pectorals and delicious nipples …

~~~~~

“OK, wait a minute,” Dr. Mikowsky interrupted, taking off his glasses.

“What?” Michael said as he smiled at the doctor.

“I can see how you might guess what Donald was wearing, but you were not there, so how do you know it was a yellow tank top and white jeans he had on?”

“That was what he wore every Friday in June,” Michael quickly answered.

“With his huge biceps and thick veins and delicious nipples?” the doctor asked. “You want me to believe he wore the same thing every Friday?”

“OK, maybe not every Friday, but when he left his apartment that Friday, that was what he was wearing,” Michael answered.

Dr. Mikowsky put his glasses back on, signaled for Michael to continue; then, he took his glasses off again and yelled, “Whoa, hold up!”

Michael wondered if the doctor would catch that last statement. Sometimes, Dr. Mikowsky would go for as long as ten minutes before he would catch one of Michael’s hidden cues, reminding him of Florence and her needing a second to realize what was said.

“I know I should not be surprised at the answer to this next question, but here goes,” the doctor began, “How did you know what Donald was wearing when he left his apartment that morning?”

Michael always enjoyed these moments. He leaned back and placed his hands behind his head, displaying his own bulging biceps. He took a deep breath, and he answered, “Because I spent the night at Donald’s on Thursday.”

“Did anything happen?” the doctor asked.

“Although Donald was built like a linebacker and all girl when he opened his mouth, he made love like a graceful gazelle in heat,” Michael said as he grinned from ear to ear, looking up at the ceiling as if reliving the moment.

Dr. Mikowsky had to stop himself from looking at Michael’s crotch to see if he was aroused by the thought of his memorable tryst. He put his glasses back on and jotted down a few notes, and he decided to continue the questioning, “Were you two dating?”

“No, it was just sex,” Michael answered. “Donald was at least 15 years older than I was, so there was no future in it.”

“Fifteen years is not a big age difference,” Dr. Mikowsky offered.

“It is when you are 22,” Michael said. “Besides, Donald thought it was an issue.”