The Hot Flash Club Strikes Again (19 page)

“It’s after five.” Julia entered the room. “You’ve had almost two full hours of sleep. Feel better?”

“Much.” Beth might not be able to move without screaming, but her spirits were restored.

“Great. Look what we’ve got for you.” The tray Julia set on the bedside table held indigo mugs steaming with tea.

Belinda approached the bed, holding a plate carefully with both hands. She presented it to Beth with an expression of such pride on her face she might well be offering a six-tiered wedding cake.

Beth smiled. “Wow! Snowman cookies! With M&M’s buttons!”

“Want to sit up?” Julia grasped Beth’s shoulders. Together they strained to get Beth propped up against pillows. Gingerly, Julia seated herself on the side of the bed and handed Beth a mug. “Chamomile tea. Later, we’ll have red wine with dinner.”

“Oh, I can’t stay for dinner,” Beth protested.

“Why not? I’ve already told Belinda you don’t have anyone to go home to, and I’ll bet Sonny’s not the best nurse in the world. Why not let Belinda and me spoil you? We like doing it, don’t we, Belinda?”

The little girl nodded.

Beth studied the child a moment, then patted the free side of the bed. “Come sit up here by me. And bring those cookies!”

Belinda ran out of the room.

“Oh, no.” Appalled, Beth turned to Julia. “Did I frighten her somehow?”

“I don’t think so. I’ll go—”

Before Julia could finish, Belinda raced back into the room, clutching several books to her chest. She put them on the bed next to Beth, then clambered up on the bed, snuggled up close to Beth, and looked at her expectantly.

“Aha.” Julia grinned. “She wants you to read to her, don’t you, Belinda?”

Belinda nodded.

“Cool.” Beth reached for the books. “I love to read.”

“Don’t let her exhaust you,” Julia warned. “If she has her way, she’ll have you reading until you lose your voice.”

“There’s nothing I’d rather do,” Beth said, and picked up the first book. “
Cinderella.
One of my favorites.” She put her arm around Belinda and pulled her close.

“I’m going to clean the kitchen,” Julia said. “If you need anything, just call.”

——————————

They were all gathered together on the guest bed, munching a casual, delicious dinner of grilled-cheese-and-tomato sandwiches when the pounding came at the front door.

“Who could that be?” Shrugging and licking her buttery fingers, Julia hurried down the hall and opened the door. Agnes stood there, the hood of her quilted, gray parka pulled tight, compressing the fat little features of her face so much she resembled a character from Dr. Seuss.

“Hello, Julia. I was just passing by, and I knew Timmy was out of town this weekend, so I thought I’d come by and keep you company.” Agnes shoved her way inside the house. “I see there’s a car in your driveway, and judging by the way the snow’s covered it, it’s been there for some time, so obviously you already
have
company. I hope I’m not
interrupting
something.” Agnes’s eyes shone with eager malice, she was almost licking her lips in anticipation.

“I’m surprised you’re out driving in this weather, Agnes.”

Agnes’s eyes darted down the hall and into the living room. “I wanted to catch a sale at the Bedford Marshalls. They have such excellent sales. I’m stocking up on birthday presents for Belinda. Where is my little darling?”

“In the guest—” Julia began, but Agnes was quickly waddling away.

“Aaah!”
Agnes shrieked. “Who are you? What are you doing in my bed!”

Julia rushed after her. “Agnes, this is my friend Beth.”

Beth lay against the pillows, the covers drawn over her lap, a picture book open in her hands, Belinda cuddled up against her.

“Why is she here? Where am I going to sleep?” Agnes demanded.

“Beth hurt her back ice skating,” Julia explained. “Belinda and I are taking care of her tonight.”

“Hello,” Beth said politely, extending her hand.

Agnes recoiled as if it dripped snakes. “She’s spending the night?”

“Yes,” Julia said firmly. “She is.”

“She’s sleeping
here
?” Agnes seemed to puff up like a toad.

“It’s the
guest
bedroom,” Julia pointed out quietly.

Agnes turned on Julia, teeth bared. “You
planned
this. So I couldn’t spend the night and be with my granddaughter.”

“Agnes, of course I didn’t plan this, how could I, when I had no idea you’d be in the area? Not to mention, I had no idea Beth would hurt her back.”

Wanting to placate the older woman, who was trembling in a rather terrifying way, Beth pushed back the covers and turned around, hiking up her nightgown. “Does the bruise look any better, Julia?”

Beth’s back flashed like the sunset over mountains, purple, red, black, and blue.

“It looks worse, actually,” Julia informed her. “But bruises usually do as they heal.”

Disappointed by this proof that Julia wasn’t lying, Agnes spotted the three plates with half-eaten sandwiches tilting on the bedcovers and pounced. “You’re eating in bed?”

“Beth also twisted her ankle. We didn’t want her to have to get up,” Julia explained reasonably.

“I see.” Agnes’s mouth crimped. “I guess I wasted my trip.”

“Not if you found some good bargains at Marshalls,” Julia coolly replied.

“I suppose I’d better drive back to the Berkshires,” Agnes said grudgingly.

“You’re welcome to sleep on the sofa.” Julia crossed her fingers behind her back and sent a silent prayer to the heavens.

“No, that would hurt
my
back.” Agnes held out her arms. “Come here, Belinda. Give Grammy a hug, then I’ll leave you all to your little party.”

Obediently, Belinda went to her grandmother, who clutched the child to her as if she’d just been rescued from the
Titanic.
“You’ve lost a tooth!” She shot an accusing glare at Julia. “You didn’t tell me she lost a tooth!”

“We took Polaroids,” Julia told her. “We mailed them off to you two days ago.”

Agnes snorted. “You’re far too trusting of the postal service. I probably won’t see that photo for a week.” Genuinely sad, she said, “I wish you’d phoned me.”

Julia folded her arms over her chest. “You know, Agnes, Tim’s been wanting to come out and set up a computer for you so you and Belinda could e-mail each other. We could have scanned the photo and e-mailed it to you if you had a computer.”

Agnes shook her head violently. “All this modern stuff is the work of the devil. It will never find a place in my house!” With that, she spun on her heel and left the room, slamming to a halt as another thought occurred to her. “Did the tooth fairy come?”

Belinda nodded, a big grin on her face.

“Yes,” Julia added. “The tooth fairy left Belinda a dollar!”

“What a stingy tooth fairy you have in this town,” Agnes said with vinegary hauteur. “In our town,
our
tooth fairy always leaves
five
dollars!” Satisfied at having scored this point, Agnes nodded briskly and went away.

Julia stood in the open doorway, waving at Agnes until her big Buick turned the corner and disappeared. Then she shut the door and locked it.

——————————

After Beth read Belinda a few more storybooks, Julia gave Belinda a bath and got her ready for bed while Beth phoned Sonny to tell him where she was spending the night.

“Now!” Julia entered the room with a bottle of red wine. Settling at the foot of the bed facing Beth, she handed Beth a glass. “The final portion of Dr. Julia’s Medical Therapy!”

Beth socked her pillows into shape and shifted her leg into another position. “This is the best ER I’ve ever been in.”

Julia stretched over to tuck a blanket around Beth’s elevated foot. “What did Sonny say?”

“They’re all watching a football game. He said I did a great job for my first time on ice skates, and I shouldn’t feel embarrassed because I fell, that everyone falls at first, and”—she finished with exaggerated perky good cheer—“maybe next weekend we can all go out to the pond again!”

Julia laughed with Beth. “Seriously, though, I doubt if your ankle will be healed enough to put that kind of stress on it by next weekend.”

“Seriously, though,” Beth echoed, “sooner or later I’ve got to learn to ice-skate.”

Julia cocked her head. “You really think you can fit in with this family?”

“Well, in the first place, I’m not marrying the family. I’m marrying Sonny.” Beth sat a little straighter, in spite of her aching back. “I really love Sonny. And I know he loves me. When we’re together, not with his family, we’re perfect. I don’t mean just sex,” she added with a blush.

“Honey,” Julia interrupted, “there’s no such thing as ‘just sex.’ ”

“Right. Okay, then, the sex is amazing. And it’s part of our love, a huge part, but not the only part. Sonny’s really intelligent. He reads as much as I do, but he never finished college, so in an odd way I know he’s trusting me to not make fun of him intellectually. So I don’t mind being such a spaz in front of him. It’s just his family that makes me feel all humiliated and dorky. His mother, really.”

“Would it help if you talked to her?” Julia asked. “What if you took her out to lunch and had a good heart-to-heart?”

“What could I say? ‘It hurts my feelings that you want Sonny to marry Robin instead of me, that I suspect you tamper with the food I bring over, and after skating with you I think you’d probably kill me if you could!” Beth shook her head angrily. “No cozy talk with Sonny’s mother. She wants me to disappear.”

“Have you talked with Sonny about this?”

“Oh, vaguely, but I always end up sounding paranoid and as if I’m fishing for compliments. I haven’t told him I think his mother put tuna water in my casserole. I mean, Sonny’s mother is his
mother,
she’s sacred territory. I don’t think he’d believe she did anything wrong even if a panel of witnesses testified to it.”

Julia pulled her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around her legs, digging her chin into her knees as she thought. “Your case is tougher than mine. Agnes is a pain in the butt, but you’ve got to feel sorry for her. She’s lost her daughter, and here I am, a strange woman, taking care of her granddaughter. She drives me nuts, but she drives Tim nuts, too. Tim and I are on the same side. You’ve got Sonny’s mother right in between the two of you.”

“And I
won’t
feel sorry for her!” Beth said with spirit. “I mean, Sonny’s old girlfriend is beautiful and a great jock, but Sonny didn’t marry her! He loves me, and he’s going to marry me!”

“Right. So we’ve got to cook up some kind of plan to get Sonny’s mother off your back.”

Readjusting the pillows behind her, Beth said, “My back and I thank you!”

21

Even in a hospital bed, naked from the waist down except for her silk tap pants, Claudia managed to look more regal than Queen Victoria.

Obviously she felt that way. “I don’t understand,” she said to Polly in a voice iced with contempt, “why this room doesn’t have a closet. It won’t do my skirt any good simply to be tossed over the back of a chair like that when it should be properly hung.”

Polly smoothed the skirt with her hand. She would have liked to sit down in the chair, but if she did, she might wrinkle the skirt. Then Claudia would really have a fit. “It’s an outpatient room, so I suppose there’s no need for a closet.”

“I just pointed out the need for a closet. Are you
deaf
?” snapped Claudia, rolling her eyes in exasperation.

She’s afraid, Polly reminded herself. She’s about to have a long needle inserted into her abdomen, and she’s frightened, not to mention dying of cancer and probably constipated and hungry, too.

“Would you like a sip of water?” Polly asked. “Or maybe some juice? The nurse said Dr. Monroe will be right in, but we might have a little wait.”

“I don’t think Hugh will keep
me
waiting,” Claudia retorted, just as the physician walked into the room.

“Hello, Claudia!” Exuding health, confidence, and the scent of cinnamon, he strode to the bed and grasped Claudia’s hand in a firm clasp. “You’re looking well!” With a nod toward Polly, he said, “Hello, Polly. Nice to see you again.”

“Nice to see you.” He’d remembered her name! Polly felt herself blush. She’d forgotten how attractive the man was, how sexy. Oh, Lord, she was developing a crush on him. Probably every woman did; women did get moony over doctors.

“We’re doing a paracentesis today,” Dr. Monroe informed them. “It’s a simple procedure. We’ll be draining some of the fluid from your abdomen, which will provide you some relief from the pressure and might allow you to eat more.”

A nurse wheeled in a stainless steel cart laden with bottles and boxes. As he spoke, Dr. Monroe pulled up a chair, opened the boxes, removed gloves and needles and other paraphernalia, and deftly arranged everything at Claudia’s side, chatting away the entire time as if he were at a summer luncheon.

“I don’t understand why I have this fluid,” Claudia complained.

“It’s a reaction to the tumor,” Dr. Monroe told her. “It’s called ascitic fluid, and it will continue to accumulate. Now, the ultrasound you just had indicated that we’ve got a nice little pocket of fluid right here on the left side, so I’m going to put a needle in—sorry, this will sting a bit—then we’ll just attach this drain. Nurse, if you would get the first bottle ready, please—and here we go. I saw your photo in
Boston
magazine, Claudia. You looked smashing in that red hat.”

Claudia looked pleased. “That was at the Penrods’ Christmas party. I’m surprised I didn’t see you there.”

Fluid the color of tea trickled from the long tube into a glass liter bottle. The physician adjusted it so the flow increased. “Comfortable?” When Claudia nodded, he said, “Well, you know Carol and I divorced a few years ago, and when we did, we sort of divided our friends between us, and Carol got the Penrods.”

Polly’s ears pricked up like a retriever at the quack of a duck. Glancing at Hugh Monroe, she saw him smiling at her, and she blushed again.

“Also, I have to admit, I’m not thrilled about going to social occasions alone.” He pressed a clip, momentarily halting the flow. “New bottle, please, Nurse.”

“I’m surprised you’re alone,” Claudia told him. “You must have any number of suitable women who would be only too glad to be your companion.”

“I suppose the sticking point is the definition of
suitable.
” Now he looked at Polly quite openly.

Claudia noticed. “Polly, I would like a ginger ale.”

Polly gave herself a mental kick. There poor Claudia was, stuck like a dilapidated automobile having its oil changed, while Polly and Hugh Monroe, still, by comparison, relatively young and hearty, flirted with each other.

“I’ll get it for you right away.”

Polly hurried down the long corridor and into an elevator to the basement and the food court, lecturing herself silently. Dr. Monroe probably flirted with every woman, as a therapeutic service. It certainly got
her
blood pumping. Spotting a restroom, she darted in to check her appearance in a mirror. Her green eyes, enlarged by the eyeliner Julia had suggested she try, sparkled, and a becoming flush brought color to her milky skin. Carolyn had told her she looked a little like Julianne Moore—of course, Carolyn was just being kind.
Enough!
Polly scolded herself, and dashed off to get the ginger ale.

By the time she returned to the room, Dr. Monroe was gently removing the tube from Claudia’s abdomen. With a square of gauze, he patted antiseptic ointment over the small wound.

“You should be fine now. This will heal quickly, and you should have quite a few good days with a good appetite. Eat as much as you can, to buck up your strength.”

“Thank you, Hugh.” Claudia awarded him a brief, regal nod.

He took one of her hands in his. “You promise you will call me if you have any symptoms that make you uncomfortable.”

“Very well.” She looked away, as if he were being rude.

The nurse wheeled the cart with its three liter bottles from the room.

Dr. Monroe pressed his case. “Constipation, indigestion, pain, even if it’s minor. We’ve got all kinds of palliatives to help you. We want you to enjoy every day as much as you can.”

Claudia pulled her hand from his. “Good of you.”

“At some point, you’ll want to check into the hospital.”

Anger molded her face into a cold mask. “Never.”

Dr. Monroe folded his arms over his chest and considered his patient. “Never?” he asked genially.

“Absolutely not. I abhor hospitals. I intend to die in my own home.”

“Even though we can make you more comfortable in a hospital?”

“Nothing could make me comfortable in a hospital. I intend to spend the last remaining moments of my life surrounded by my own things.”

He nodded. “I can understand that, Mrs. Lodge, certainly. Many people feel that way, actually. That’s why we have such an excellent home health and hospice program. That way nurses can visit you—”

“No. No strangers.”

Hugh Monroe bent close to Claudia and lowered his voice, as if calming an injured animal. “We know you don’t want strangers in your house. But please consider it. You might need pain medication, for example, or help bathing—”

Claudia shuddered visibly. “Hugh. If you continue like this, I shall either consult another doctor or refrain from taking any medical advice at all.”

The physician studied her face. “Very well.” He straightened, shot Polly a look laden with rue, then became, once again, brisk and hearty. “I’ll leave you, then, Mrs. Lodge. I’ll be glad to hear from you anytime.”

“Must I stay here now?”

“If you want. You might want to rest a little. Or, if you’d like, you’re free to leave anytime.”

“I’ll leave now. This is not the most attractive room.”

He laughed. “I agree. Good-bye then, Mrs. Lodge.” To Polly’s delight, he crossed the room and took her hand in his. “Nice to see you again, Polly.”

She knew she was flushing like a schoolgirl. “Nice to see you.”

He seemed about to say something else. Then a nurse came in, and he gave everyone another nod and left the room.

It was as if all the lights went out.

“Polly?” Claudia was impatient.

“Here,” Polly said, rushing forward with Claudia’s woolen skirt. “Let me help you dress.”

——————————

Polly and Claudia walked back out of the hospital through halls streaming with patients in wheelchairs, on crutches and walkers. The parking valet brought Polly’s Subaru around. Polly helped Claudia into the passenger seat, then settled behind the wheel. “Is there anywhere you’d like to go before I take you home?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I want to go straight home. I’m tired.”

“All right, then. Would you like to hear some music?”

Claudia shrugged. “I suppose.”

Polly clicked on the radio, tuning it to the classical station. Vivaldi spun into the air. Claudia leaned her head back against the car seat. Polly drove to Dover, grateful for the music filling the silence.

At Claudia’s house, Polly stopped the car and unfastened her seat belt.

“Don’t fuss, Polly. I’m quite capable of walking into my own home without your assistance.” Claudia gathered her purse up and opened the car door.

“All right, then,” Polly answered brightly. “I’ll be back this evening with some dinner for you, and perhaps a nice little dessert. I’m meeting Carolyn Sperry for tea, and maybe we’ll find one perfect cake—”

Claudia’s head whipped around like a cobra’s. “Whom? Whom did you say you’re meeting?”

“Carolyn Sperry. She—”

“Carolyn Sperry of the Sperry Paper Company?” Claudia’s eyebrows rose so high they nearly melded with her hairline.

“Yes.”

“How do
you
know Carolyn Sperry?” Two spots of red bloomed on Claudia’s pale skin.

Polly swallowed her exasperation. Trust Claudia to assume Polly wouldn’t be of interest to someone of Carolyn’s vaunted social value. “I met her at The Haven, out near Concord, and we’ve become friends. She’s—”

Crankily, Claudia cut her off. “But why would she be your friend? You’re closer to her father’s age than to hers.”

“True. But her mother’s dead. And her father just married a young woman whom Carolyn doesn’t—” Polly slapped her hand over her mouth. “Oh, I suppose I shouldn’t gossip.” She didn’t mean to be ingenious, but as she spoke, she realized nothing could have whetted Claudia’s appetite more. Claudia froze like a retriever who’d just flushed out a quail from the underbrush.

“Well.” Claudia presented Polly with an impressive imitation of a smile. “Run along to your little tea. I’ll see you this evening.”

Polly watched Claudia as she slowly, with great deliberation, made her way up her sidewalk to her house. Claudia did not like to be touched, and she did not like to seem to need assistance, but Polly was amazed that the older woman didn’t collapse, so bone-thin were her legs. Perhaps she ought to phone Dr. Monroe to discuss Claudia’s state and what could be done to help her.

But if she phoned Dr. Monroe, would he think she was just flirting with him?

Damn! Was nothing ever plain and simple?

——————————

Later that day, after the early winter dusk had fallen, Polly let herself into Claudia’s house, stamped the snow off her boots, hung up her coat and handbag, and went down the hall to the gloomy living room where no lights, not even the television, glowed.

“Hello? I’m going to turn on a lamp, Claudia, I want to show you what I’ve brought.”

“Mmmfh,”
Claudia replied, sounding slightly disoriented. No doubt Polly had awakened her from a nap. She suspected Claudia napped a lot these days.

The light came on just in time for Polly to see Claudia, slumped in a thin, sunken curl on the chaise, trying to maneuver her false teeth into her mouth.

Oh, jeez, Polly thought. Old age is so hard on our vanity! Quickly she turned away and busied herself setting a new plant on a table. To give Claudia more time to compose herself, she went into the kitchen and began dinner preparations. She poured two glasses of sherry, put them on the tray, and carried it into the living room.

Claudia had her teeth back in and was sitting up straight in her chaise. She’d patted her hair into place, although the back of it stuck up like a cockatoo’s comb, detracting from her dignity as she said in plummy tones, “The azalea is lovely, Polly, thank you.”

Polly nearly dropped the tray. Compliments from Claudia? “I’m so glad you like it.” Setting the tray on the table, she handed Claudia a glass. “It’s six o’clock. Shall we watch the news?”

“Of course.” On her own, Polly paid little attention to the news, but Tucker had been a news junkie who would no more have missed the six-o’clock news on Channel 5 at the end of the day than a priest would have skipped Sunday-morning mass. So Polly relaxed in her chair, sipping her sherry and only halfheartedly listening to the commentators, instead, remembering how cozy her evenings had been with Tucker, how he’d made her laugh with his editorial comments on the news. Now as she sat with Claudia, she felt even lonelier than she would have felt if she’d been alone, because Claudia insisted on absolute silence, even during the commercial breaks, which was probably a good thing. Claudia was conservative, Polly liberal. They already had enough to disagree about. Tucker had always—

“I think Natalie Jacobsen’s new hairstyle is quite attractive, don’t you?”

Claudia
speaking
? Polly was so surprised she almost tossed her drink across the room. “Yes,” she agreed weakly, not having thought much about the anchorwoman’s hairstyle.

Claudia said nothing else, and Polly was floating back in her memories when, during the weather forecast, Claudia announced, “Dick Alpert annoys me sometimes. I wish he’d be a little less
perky.
”

Polly snapped to attention. “I suppose he’s trying to jazz up the weather.”

“Perhaps. Although you’d think all these new graphics would be sufficient for that.”

Good golly,
Polly thought.
We’re having a conversation!

She had a pretty good idea why. Now that Claudia knew Polly was friends with Carolyn Sperry, Polly’s social value had jumped several levels in Claudia’s mind. Well, Polly was grateful for anything that would make her relationship with Claudia a little smoother.

Claudia switched channels to CNN while Polly prepared a plate of beef and rice casserole, which Polly had made using her richest recipe, because, unlike Polly, Claudia needed all the fat she could get. As she dished it up, Polly tried to think of a way to broach the subject of arranging new household help for Claudia. She wanted to do it tonight, while Claudia was in a receptive mood.

Back in the living room, she set a tray over Claudia’s lap. The pungent aroma of gravy, wine, onions, and beef rose in the air. Polly poured a glass of merlot for each of them, then curled up in a chair across from Claudia, and prepared to stare at the television as she had every other night for the past few weeks.