Mostly, Mary Alice thinks, her silliness is Einer’s fault. The way he’s after her all the time to enrich her life. “Get out there!” he says. “Do things while you still can! Blink a couple of times and you’ll be an old fart like me, with memories your only entertainment. You think I’m kidding? I’m not kidding! You’d better make some memories before it’s too late!”
As angry as he has made her, picking away at her like this, now she is grateful to him. It isn’t too late for some things. It isn’t! She may have gray hair and a few brown spots and her memory may not be quite as excellent as it once was, but the taste of a good vanilla ice cream cone or the sound of church bells on a Sunday morning or the sight of a red sky still thrills her. And in those moments of appreciation she, like all people, becomes ageless.
TEN
“ITHINK I CAN MAKE YOU FEEL A WEENSY BIT BETTER, BABY.” IT’S ten-thirty on Saturday morning, the day of the reunion, and Sandy is talking in the pooched-lip baby voice that Pete used to like so much. Now she reaches under the sheet for his penis.
He pushes her hand away. “Cut it out,” he says. “This is a hospital.”
But it’s not because he’s in a hospital that he doesn’t want her to touch him. It’s because his heart is breaking—again, and in the more painful way, having nothing to do with a myocardial infarction, which is why he’s here. He’d had a heart attack. A heart attack, a man like him! After he was stabilized in the emergency room and the doctor told him the news, Pete had yelled “What the fuck!” before he could stop himself, and his doctor—a female, not bad looking, Indian chick—had pressed his chart to her bosom and stepped back.
“Sorry,” he’d said, and she’d given him one of those tight-ass smiles and nodded. He saw right away he wouldn’t have any fun with this one; with this one, he’d have to play by the rules. “Sorry,” he’d said again, and then listened dutifully as she explained what the EKG had shown, the cardiac enzymes. She’d given him some stupid pamphlet called “You and Your Heart.” He’d listened, he’d promised to read the pamphlet, but mostly he was thinking, This is bullshit. I’m fine. I don’t need anything except to get the hell out of here. This was a fluke, that’s all. The doctor had told him about how he’d need more tests, how he’d be on this medication and that medication. Jesus Christ. She’d told him he’d have to be in the hospital for at least a week, and when he got out, he’d need to wear one of those weird MedicAlert bracelets, what a babe magnet that was. Not that he gives a shit about babes anymore, but still.
Earlier this morning, his wife came to visit him. His kids, too. Nothing like a near-death experience to make everybody suddenly get along. Katie left after only a few minutes—she’d had to go to a birthday party—and the boys left soon afterward. Still, when the kids were there, they were loving and kind. Forgiving. Cal put his hand on Pete’s shoulder and invited him to dinner next Sunday. Pete Jr. told him about some tickets he scored for a baseball game and invited him to go along. It made Pete think having a heart attack wasn’t all bad. The MedicAlert bracelet will be a continual reminder to everyone that he is vulnerable, even if he doesn’t seem like it.
After the kids left and Pete was alone with Nora, he said, “Listen, I can’t go to the reunion today. They won’t let me out until Monday. But I’d like to ask you to go for me. Would you, Nora? Please. I signed us both up, it’s all paid for, all set.”
She looked into his face with a kind of gentle weariness. “Oh, Pete. Why would you want me to go without you?”
Because he wanted her to think about him in the old way, that’s why. He wanted her to be among their classmates, who knew them both back in the day. He thought this might provide the tiniest chink in the wall, a way for him to begin the arduous process of trying to make his way back into her life. He’s determined to get back what he has lost, a woman whose honesty and character he admires, someone who from day one saw through his bullshit to the good that lives inside him, and helped make him a better person than he is able be on his own. Nora was so pretty when he first started dating her, a raven-haired girl with big brown eyes, a heart-shaped face with deep dimples, a cute little figure. It is true that she is no longer a head turner. But her spirit. Her soul. He wants what he has come to see matters most. Which is not Sandy, though, God bless her, she’s knocked herself out trying to look hot today. And has succeeded. Sprayed-on jeans would look like elephant skin compared to what that girl has slithered into today. The orderly nearly had a heart attack himself when he came in and saw her, he couldn’t keep his eyes off her ass. And Sandy, in her inimitable way, made it possible for him to get a good look the whole time he was in there, leaning over Pete to adjust his sheet when it needed no adjustment, standing with her back to the guy to read the couple of cards taped to the wall, even though she had sent both of them.
“I just really wanted to go to that reunion,” Pete told Nora. “I wanted to see what happened to all our classmates. Wouldn’t you like to see that?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Not really. The only people I’m interested in are the ones I’ve kept up with anyway.”
“But… Lester Hessenpfeffer!” Pete said, and then he started madly thinking of whatever names he could remember. “Trudy Lebbing! Tommy Metito! Aren’t you even a little curious?”
She didn’t have to answer. He saw it in her eyes. She picked up her purse, stopped short of sliding the strap over her arm. “Anyway…”
He tried one more time. He shifted himself as though he were really uncomfortable but bravely trying to hide it from her. He made his voice just the tiniest bit pinched. “Nora,” he said. “It’s one night in your life. A few hours! And it’s the last reunion!”
“Well, you know, Pete, you never wanted me to go before.”
“Everything’s different now, Nora.” He considered getting a little short of breath here, then dismissed it for being too over the top. But he did try another idea, a brilliant one, he thought, that had suddenly come to him. “Ah, never mind,” he said. “I’m being a selfish prick again, aren’t I? Of course you don’t need to go, just to tell me what everybody’s up to. I’m sorry for asking. You don’t have to put yourself through that.”
She stood silent for a moment, thinking, and then, by God, it worked. She said, “Oh, all right, I’ll go! Just for tonight’s dinner, though, I’m not doing the whole thing. I’ll go just to the dinner and that’s all; I’m not even going to stay for the dance.”
Yes, she will, he thought. Never mind, he still knows her. She’ll get to talking, and she’ll end up staying, if for no other reason than to talk some more. And all the girls—well, women, now, he supposes—will be asking her if Pete is still so handsome, if he’s still so much fun. Which he is.
He mocked grateful surprise. “Aw, honey—sorry!—I mean, Nora. Thank you. Oh, man, that’s so nice of you. Thank you. Fly United, and use my miles for the ticket; I’ve got more miles than I know what to do with. You know my password. And if you have any problem at all, just put it on my card. There’s a flight that leaves in two hours, that’s the one I was on, you can make it.”
“It’s less than a four-hour drive. And I really like to take road trips, as you know. And so does Fred.”
Pete’s smile froze. “What?”
“I’m going to bring Fred. You registered for two, right?”
“Well… Yes, but—”
“I don’t want to go alone, Pete. I’m bringing Fred. End of discussion. I’ll call you tomorrow and let you know how everybody was.” She kissed his forehead. “I’m sorry. Feel better. I’ve got to go.”
“Petey?” Sandy says, and Pete snaps back into the ugly present.
“What.”
“I said, do you want me to bring you something special for dinner?”
He looks up at her, her big hoop earrings, her drawn-on eyebrows. “Listen, I need you to do something for me.”
She blinks once, twice. Then she smiles and moves her face closer to his. “Sure. What’ll it be, baby
?”
He looks around her to be certain there’s no one in the hall, and lowers his voice. “Get me my clothes. I’ll watch to make sure nobody’s coming while you get my things out of the closet and put them in the bathroom. I’ll go in there and change while you stand guard, and then we’ll make a break for it.”
Her eyes widen. “You can’t do that!”
“Sssh!” he says, then whispers, “Yes, I can. They’re just keeping me for observation. I’m not even wired anymore. I can observe myself.”
“If you leave a hospital before you’re supposed to, you have to sign something. When Uncle Tony left after his hernia repair, he had to do that. It’s an ANA form.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s a form you have to sign if you leave before you’re supposed to.”
“I know, but what does ANA stand for?”
She consults the ceiling. “I think it’s… against something?”
“Oh,” he says. “Right. I know. AMA. Against medical advice.”
“That’s it. That’s right. So anyway, you can’t go without signing that.”
He sits up, swings his legs over the side of the bed. “Watch me.”
“Pete, I can’t—”
“Just get the clothes and put them in the bathroom,” he says. “I’ll watch to make sure nobody sees. You can leave after that, leave before me, and nobody will know you did a thing.”
“No, but I… What I’m trying to tell you is that you don’t have any clothes here!”
He sits there. Stares at her. Then he says, “Why not? Where are my clothes? What happened to them?”
“I’m washing them.”
“You’re washing them?”
She scratches her arm, and her bangle bracelets jingle. “Well, not this very minute. But I’m going to. I’m going to wash them for you so you can have all clean clothes to come home in.”
He looks off to the side, nodding. “All right. All right. Just bring me some other clothes. Pack me a bag with a casual outfit and a nice suit, some pajamas, my toiletries.”
“Where are we going?”
“Not we. Me. I’ve got a business meeting. Very important. How soon can you get the stuff over here?”
“Well, I don’t know. I have a therapist’s appointment this afternoon; I could get them for you after that.”
“You have a therapist’s appointment?”
She shrugs.
“What the hell are you seeing a therapist for?” She doesn’t have enough of a brain to be picked!
She shakes her finger at him. “Now, see? That’s where I draw my boundary line. It’s not your business. It’s my business. It belongs to me, and I’m not telling you.”
“What are you seeing a therapist for?”
“Self-esteem issues.”
He shakes his head. Sighs. “Well, cancel it, and go to the condo and pack my bag and bring it back here. Don’t bring the suitcase in the hospital, just bring my clothes to change into. Please.”
“I can’t cancel my appointment this late; she’ll charge me!”
She’ll. Couple of women sitting around man-bashing, one of them getting paid big bucks for it.
“I’ll pay for it,” he says.
And to his amazement, Sandy says, “No.”
“Sandy.”
“No! I’m doing this for me and I will pay for it myself. And also you can’t bully me. Not anymore.”
Fuck! He makes his tone soft, placating, sexy. “Come on, baby.”
“I have to go now,” she says, and damned if she doesn’t leave. Click, click, click on her white high heels, right out the door.
Pete looks at his watch. If he leaves right now and gets out to the airport, he can make his flight and be at the reunion ahead of Nora and Fred. He can register himself and Nora and then, so sorry, no room for Fred. Oh, he’ll be perfectly cordial to Fred—Have a few drinks on me in the hotel bar, pal; Nora will be back later. He’ll tell Nora the doctor sprang him after all, and he decided to surprise her. He looks down at himself. He’s wearing surgical scrubs, thanks to the kindness of one of the nurses who went for him big-time. None of those ridiculous tie gowns for a guy like him.
He goes over to the door and peers out into the hallway. No one in sight. In the little metal locker at the side of the room, he finds his trench coat—thank God it had been a cool morning when he went to see Nora. He slips on his socks and loafers, puts on his coat, collects his wallet from the little bedside table. He wonders for one second where his car keys are before he remembers that Pete Jr. has his car.
Again he checks the hall. The elevator is some distance away, but the exit to the stairway is two doors down. He walks rapidly to it and starts down the steps. He forces himself to go slowly, which isn’t hard, because he’s kind of dizzy.
Credit card, driver’s license, he’s thinking. Twenty minutes to the airport. Boarding pass at the kiosk in the walkway from the garage to the terminal. He’ll buy an outfit to wear on the plane at the pro shop—there’s a golf store at the airport. He can get a razor and toothbrush and comb at the hotel.
Right outside the hospital is a line of cabs. Piece of cake, he thinks, and climbs in the one in front.
“Airport,” he says.
The cab pulls away from the curb and the driver looks at him in the rearview mirror. “Where you off to, Doc?”
The scrubs, Pete supposes. “Going to visit my parents,” he says. Then, warming to the situation, he says, “They’re having their sixtieth wedding anniversary.” That’s what he and Nora will have.
“That right?” the cabbie says. “Wow, that’s something special. What all you going to do for them?”
“Oh, the works,” Pete says, and then, “I gotta tell you, I’m beat. Don’t mind me if I keep quiet. I’ve been up all night—just finished with a major operation.”
The driver looks again in the rearview. “Oh yeah? What kind, if you don’t mind my asking.”
“Brain surgery,” Pete says. “Tough case, but the guy’s out of the woods now.”
“Good for you,” the cabbie says. “Okay, you take it easy. Sleep, if you want. I’ll wake you up when we’re at the airport.”
“Yeah, good. Thanks.” Pete closes his eyes and feels his pulse racing. Calm down. He takes in a deep breath, and imagines Nora in his arms, dancing with him, falling in love with him all over again in spite of herself. She’d say that very thing: “Oh, Pete, I’m falling in love with you all over again in spite of myself.”
And if she does say that, he’ll pull her closer. He’ll say, “Nora, I’m a changed man.”
He’ll be so tender to her, all night. So kind. So listen-y. And when they go back to the hotel room, he’ll make love to her like she’s never seen. Like he’s never seen. At some point, she’ll remember Fred, and he’ll say, “I’ll take care of it, sweetheart.” And Nora will say, “Don’t be mean,” and he’ll say, “I won’t,” and he won’t be, because he will have won.
The cab has been sitting still for too long. Pete opens his eyes and sees a long line of cars stalled behind what appears to be an accident. He starts to get angry, but then doesn’t. Nothing really great has ever come to him without some effort. Plus, what if him getting all upset blows a gasket or something? He wishes he’d brought that pamphlet about the heart. He’ll look up some stuff on the hotel computer, everything’s on the computer now. He closes his eyes, unclenches his fists. By God, relaxes. He is a changed man. The cab begins to move again. Pete closes his eyes, but he’s never been so wide awake.
ELEVEN
DOROTHY SHAUMAN SENT FOUR BOUQUETS OF FLOWERS to herself at the Westmore Hotel, and now she goes around checking them before she unpacks. You have to watch these people, to be sure they don’t send out some second-rate bouquet and think you won’t do a thing about it, but Dorothy will, you’d better believe it. But the flower company has done right by her: each bouquet is just fine. They’re not big bouquets, but they’re pretty, and there are no wilted carnations
or yellowing baby’s breath or those awful supermarket alstroemeria snuck in there. She doesn’t want supermarket flowers, no. As she always explains when she orders flowers, if she wanted supermarket flowers, she’d buy them herself from the supermarket, duh. She doesn’t say it that meanly. She makes a little joke of it, and usually the people laugh back. Not the gay men, but gay men never like her. And she doesn’t know why because she likes them.
The hotel has put all four bouquets on the desk in the corner, and now she happily distributes them: the pink one to the bathroom, the white one to the nightstand, the yellow one she puts on the little table with the lamp stationed near the door, and the blue one she leaves on the desk. Next, she opens the sheer curtains to see what her view is. Well, it’s the parking lot, but never mind. Could be interesting to see who all is coming and going.
She’s left word for Judy and Linda, who are sharing a room, to call her when they arrive; until then, she’ll unpack and eat her box lunch: tuna sandwich and red grapes and peanut butter cookies. She suspects some of the people will get together to eat their lunch, but she wants to save herself. Besides that, she has a lot to do to get ready. She and her girlfriends have booked themselves a hot stone massage at the hotel spa, and then they’re getting their hair done at the adjoining salon. Dorothy has availed herself of the salon’s makeup service, too, which provides partial false eyelashes, which Hilly has told her are all the rage. She’s a little worried she won’t like it and then what? But if that happens, she’ll just take it all off and do her makeup herself. Judy and Linda said they would never pay to have makeup put on, but they’d stay with her while she did it. Well, here’s what Dorothy knows: if she looks good when she’s done, Judy and Linda will fall all over themselves getting it done, too; and then she’ll have to wait for them. She’s glad she made the appointments for early in the afternoon; she wants no rushing as she prepares to see Pete.