The Hot Flash Club Chills Out (5 page)

6

A
ll the members of The Hot Flash Club loved their monthly dinners at Legal Seafoods. Over the past two years, these meetings had served as psychiatric therapy, vocational inspiration, wardrobe analysis, romantic investigation, and psychic recharging. Plus they got to eat all the chocolate they wanted.

Now they hugged each other with genuine pleasure as they arrived at their table. As they slipped off spring jackets and pulled out their chairs, they admired Faye’s new blue topaz earrings which so brilliantly accentuated her eyes, Alice’s handsome new chunky amber necklace, framing her long neck, and Polly’s pretty spring frock, which she’d actually bought instead of making herself as she usually did. Shirley, who’d just come from a conference with the building-and-grounds guy, wore a business suit they’d seen before, and Marilyn was in her normal intellectual-drone brown. Everyone still told everyone else, “You look great!”

They settled in at the round table, shaking out their napkins and giving their drink orders. Then, catching their breath, they realized with a shock that, on closer inspection, not one of them looked great. Not really.

Alice was never one to beat around the bush. “Well, ladies, I know why
I
look like a cast member from
Night of the Living Dead,
but what’s going on with all of you?”

They started to object, then as one, they sighed, and drooped.

“I’ll start,” Marilyn decided. “I shouldn’t complain, not when everything is so wonderful in my life, but…” She paused, too guilty to continue.

“But your mother’s driving you nuts?” Shirley suggested.

Marilyn frowned. “Not exactly. It’s just that I’m so overwhelmed, trying to take care of everyone and do a decent job of teaching my courses and sitting on committees. I
love
Ian—you know I do—and he made an amazing sacrifice, leaving Scotland to be with me. He really is the love of my life. And I like his son, too.”

“Is Angus pretty demanding?” Faye asked.

Marilyn shook her head. “Not at all. Just the opposite. He always hides up in the attic, tapping away on his computer. He doesn’t even eat unless I take up food and remind him. I worry about Angus.”

“So,” Alice summed up, “you’re taking care of your mother, your fiancé, and his son.”

“What else is new?” Polly jested.

“What else is new is that we’re older,” Alice pointed out. “We’ve got to meet thirty-year-old demands with our sixty-year-old bodies. We
should
be taking it easy.”

“This reminds me of a joke,” Faye said. “Why was Jesus a woman?”

They all grinned. “Why?”

“Because when there was hardly any food, he managed to feed a crowd, and even when he was dead, he had to get up because there was more work to do.”

“I hear you.” Alice shook her head. “Is it worse because we’re doing it out of love? I mean, I
adore
my granddaughter. I don’t think I’ve ever loved
anyone
quite so much. I treasure every moment I get to spend with her. And I’m so glad to be able to help my son and Jennifer.”

“But you’re tired,” Shirley said.

Alice pinned her with a glare. “You’re saying I
look
tired?”

Shirley often backed down when Alice challenged her. But tonight she had a reason to be forceful. She had news. “Yes, Alice, I am saying you look tired. Exhausted, frankly. I’m worried about you.”

Alice gave in. “You’re right. I
am
tired. No matter how much aspirin I take, my arthritis makes me ache all the time and gives me muscle spasms that make my whole body fold up like a deck chair. I don’t have time to exercise and”—she held out her hand in a
stop
gesture at Shirley—“I’m eating too much and gaining weight again. But I need the fuel for energy, and I just don’t have the stamina to stress my body out with a diet.”

Faye leaned forward. “Have you mentioned this to Alan?”

“Alan! Of course not. I don’t want him to feel guilty. He’s got enough on his mind. I’m out there to help them, not worry them.”

“Have you considered cutting down your hours?” Polly asked. “Like, just going out three days a week instead of five? That way you’d have two to rest and recoup.”

Alice made a face. “I can’t do that. They need my help.”

“You won’t be much help to them if you have another heart attack,” Shirley observed quietly.

“I’m not going to have another heart attack!” Alice insisted. “This is
good
stress, after all.”

“What does Gideon say?” Faye asked.

The waiter arrived with their drinks, and Alice got busy squeezing the lime into her vodka tonic.

“Right,” Shirley said. “So he agrees with us.”

“I suppose,” Alice admitted grumpily. Looking around the table at her friends, she asked, “But really, what can I do?”

Wanting to perk up the group, Faye leaned forward with a sly grin on her face. “No one’s asked me why
I
look tired.”

Marilyn obliged. “Tell me, Faye, why do you look tired?”

“Because Aubrey and I finally got around to making love.”

“High five, girl!” Alice held up her hand.

“Not so fast, Alice. I haven’t told you the whole story.”

“He couldn’t get it up.” Marilyn had dated a man with this particular problem.

Faye shook her head, looking mischievous. “Actually, he could. Without, I might add, any chemical assistance.” Everyone knew about the disaster that had taken place when Marilyn’s lover had tried Viagra. “No, Aubrey did really well. I mean, he was like Mt. Everest, and I was climbing right up into the rarefied heights.” She lowered her voice. “To drop the metaphor, I was on top, and his hands were on my, um, chest, supporting me a little, and things were happening that haven’t happened for me in years, and just at the crucial moment…” She hesitated.

“Don’t stop now!” Polly cried.

Faye laughed. “Those were my thoughts precisely. But he
did
stop—he has bursitis in his shoulder, and I guess my weight was too much for him. He grabbed his arm like I’d shot an arrow into it, clenching his teeth with pain. I felt terrible! He took three aspirins, lay on a heating pad, and had to phone his doctor for painkillers in the morning.”

“That’s horrible!” Marilyn said. “Poor Aubrey.”

“Poor
you,
” Alice said, with feeling.

“He’s at my house now,” Faye continued. “He’s basically planted on my sofa, taking Percocet three times a day. He’s too drugged out to do more than watch television.”

“And you’re waiting on him hand and foot?” Shirley asked.

Faye nodded. “Well, I do feel responsible. I
am
responsible.”

“We’re all at the age when bits and pieces are falling apart on us,” Polly mused as she stabbed her fork into her swordfish.

“It can only get worse,” Marilyn chimed in. “Mother says when she goes to the Senior Citizens Club, she hears a lot of ‘organ recitals.’”

Shirley looked at Polly. “I notice you’re not saying a thing, but you look tired, too.”

Polly took a sip of wine. “Well, I guess I am in kind of a rocky spot with Hugh.”

“Rocky spot?” Alice scoffed. “You and Hugh have his ex-wife at the center of your relationship!”

“I know.” Polly looked dejected. “I try to talk with him about it. I told him I don’t want to turn this into an ultimatum, either he chooses her or me. I’m not that dumb! I know if he had to choose, he’d choose Carol, because of their three children and all the grandchildren. I’m not asking him to stop seeing her forever. I just want him to get her to back off a bit. I want him to remind her that they’re divorced.”

Shirley pointed her fork at Polly. “You still haven’t told us your
real
problem.”

Polly raised her eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“You’re working too hard for Havenly Yours.”

Polly’s jaw dropped. She didn’t think anyone had noticed. “Well…” Wriggling in her chair, she debated with herself just how much to say.

“Polly’s been at Havenly Yours almost every work day since January,” Shirley reminded the others. “Without pay, I might add. The three of you are independently wealthy—”

“Not
wealthy,
” Faye objected.

“—so you probably just didn’t think about all Polly’s doing for free. I think we should give her a break.”

“Which means what, in practical terms?” Alice inquired.

“It means we should hire someone to take Polly’s place.” Before Alice could object, she continued, “Havenly Yours is showing a very slight profit now. It’s enough to pay another person full time. Come on, The Haven’s never been about profits anyway. It’s meant to be
a haven,
for all of us on the board as well as our clients.”

Faye put her hand on Polly’s arm. “Tell us how you feel about this, Polly. I knew you were working, but I thought you liked it. It never occurred to me you’d be burnt out. Are you?”

Chagrined, Polly felt her lower lip quiver in response to so much concern. “Yes. But I don’t want…”
to become dispensable to the group,
she thought, but could never have admitted aloud, any more than she could have jumped up and danced a tarantella on the tabletop.

“And while we’re at it,” Shirley raised her voice slightly, “I’m pretty tired myself. I never realized how administrative duties could weigh you down.”

Alice nodded in sympathetic agreement. “Yeah, the papers accumulate one by one. It’s like having a few little snowflakes drift down and while you’re bending over to pick one up, an entire igloo falls on your ass.”

“So should we all make a pact to take things a little easier?” Marilyn asked. She looked worried even thinking about it.

“No, Marilyn, we’re going to do a lot more than that!” Shirley wriggled all over like a puppy. Waving her hands to quiet the table, she explained, “You all know Nora Salter, the great old gal I used to give massages to. Well, of course you know her, she’s invested heavily in The Haven. Well! Now she’s called to ask a favor.”

Alice snorted. “Okay, we’re all stressed out, and your antidote is to do Nora Salter a favor?”

Shirley’s glow didn’t dim. “Absolutely. Wait till you hear.”

“We’re waiting.” Alice folded her arms over her chest.

“We’re going to spend the summer on Nantucket. Here’s the deal. Nora owns a house there. It’s been in her family forever. She usually goes there in the summer, but she’s got to have an operation—a hip replacement. So she can’t go down there this summer, but she doesn’t want to leave the house empty. She asked if we all might like to use it.”

“Wow.” Faye sighed. “I love Nantucket.”

“I’ve never been there,” Polly admitted.

“Nor have I, “Marilyn said. “But I’d love to spend some time there. I know the island has an indigenous population of horseshoe crabs, a descendant of the trilobites I study.”

“Well, that sells me,” Alice said dryly. With a suspicious eye on Shirley, she asked, “What’s the catch?”

“Well, Alice, does there have to be a
catch
?” Shirley shot back defensively. Wilting slightly under Alice’s steady stare, she confessed, “It’s not a catch, as such. It’s just that a lot of small, valuable antiques have been disappearing from Nora’s house. She’s got a friend who checks the place about once a week, and she says there are no unlocked doors, no broken windows, no signs of breaking in. She noticed some stuff missing in February. Nora went down last week. She was stunned at how much had disappeared. Silver candlesticks, cloisonné vases, that sort of thing.”

“It’s got to be the caretaker, doesn’t it?” Faye observed.

Shirley shook her head. “Nora says absolutely not. Kezia Jones is absolutely trustworthy.”

“Maybe her children?” Polly suggested. “They’d have access to her keys.”

“Kezia’s child is about one year old! Come on, ladies!” Shirley urged. “We’re talking about a house on Nantucket for the summer for free! And all we have to do is
be there.
Our presence will be enough to prevent anyone from breaking in and taking anything until Nora can get down there.”

Leaning her chin on her hand, Marilyn said in a dreamy voice, “The beaches are heavenly there. Golden sand stretching forever.”

Shirley told them, “We could swim, bike, take long walks, and get really healthy.”

“We could
shop,
” Faye added with a gleam in her eye. “I’ve heard the stores are fabulous.”

Alice brought them down to earth. “But none of us can take three months off! Three
weeks
maybe, but even that would be stretching it. We’ve all got too many responsibilities. We can’t just leave everything.”

“We don’t have to, silly!” Shirley countered. “We don’t all have to be there all the time!” Drawing a grid on the tablecloth with her knife, she said, “Five of us, twelve weeks, that’s eighty-four days. We’ll stagger our schedules so that three, or two, or even one of us is always there, while the rest are up here carrying on.”

“But we all five have to be there together
some
of the time,” Faye cried. “Think how much fun it will be! We’ll lie in the sun, walk by the surf, sip margaritas or”—with a smile for Shirley, who was a recovering alcoholic, she added—“iced tea with mint.”

“The Hot Flash Club Chills Out,” Polly said. “What a concept!”

“How soon can we go down?” Marilyn asked. “Let’s all go together the first time, okay?”

Alice dug in her purse for her Palm Pilot. “Let’s find a couple of dates that might work for all of us.”

Polly was looking worried, Shirley noticed. “The first thing we’re doing tomorrow, Polly, is starting a search for someone to take on your job.”

Alice glanced up. “I’ll help with that. Now, the weekend is probably best for all of us, right?”

“Not necessarily,” Faye said. “The middle of the week works as well for me, and I’ll bet the weekends are getting pretty crowded now, with people going over to open up their houses.”

“Okay, then. How soon do we want to go?”

“Tomorrow!” Faye cried playfully.

“No, we’ve got to organize a few things first,” Marilyn said.

“The week after next?” Shirley asked hopefully. “That should give us all time to arrange things.”

Everyone nodded eagerly.