Tess tells her how Louise’s belittling voice is not as loud as it used to be, and that her flashbacks—other than the one she’s having now about the many nights the Finley sisters spent doing the same thing they’re doing—seem to be less frequent, but she still deals with depression, and panic attacks too. “But I haven’t dissociated in a while.”
“At least, you don’t think you have.”
Tess laughs. She’d forgotten how funny her sister could be when she feels secure.
The subject changes to talk of friends of the imaginary sort. Birdie grins and says, “Do you think Bee and Grace are buddies? I bet they are.”
(“Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings.”)
“I’m making an effort to be more social,” Tess confesses, “but I’m not good at it. I’m awkward. Not like you.” When she’s on the right medication, Birdie is more at ease around what the girls call, “NPs”—Normal People.
“My shrink says it’s important that I get out of the house and mingle if I don’t want to exacerbate my agoraphobia, so I take night classes at the community college near my apartment. That’s fine, until we go out afterwards for coffee. I don’t have much in common with people who don’t need to count or clean or do things four times or always sit as close as possible to an exit.” Birdie gulps down the remainder of her Ovaltine. “Esther? The old woman I told you about who lives in the apartment below me? She taught me how to play Mahjong and I clean her apartment for her once a week, so sometimes I can convince myself I have a real friend, but I don’t, not really.”
“You have me, Bird.”
“I know, Tessie, I know.”
“You could move back.”
This was an ongoing request in their on-again-off-again conversations throughout the years. Whenever she’d brought it up in the past, Birdie was still dealing with her rivalry issues and she’d flat-out refuse. Tess hopes they’re beyond that now. It would be wonderful to know she could be at her sister’s side quickly if she needed to be, and vice versa.
“You have your poker winnings and you can do your transcribing from anywhere,” Tess says. “And you wouldn’t have to worry about finding somewhere to live right off. You could stay with us until you found a place of your own. You could be the weird aunt!” She ruffles her sister’s hair so it’s sticking out every which way. “Our Humane Society is top drawer, so there’d be no problem when it came to adopting cats. The resale shop carries lots of strange outfits, and you…might even meet the man of your dreams! One of the best psychiatric facilities in the country is right up the road. Maybe they host a happy hour on Friday nights!”
When Birdie playfully smacks her with a throw pillow, Tess laughs, but it’s tinged with sadness. As wonderful as the moving-home scenario was, they’re both wondering how long they can maintain this closeness before one of them gets their feelings hurt and puts the brakes on the relationship until they can gather up enough courage to try again.
Birdie says, “Enough about me. So what’s going on with you and Will?”
After a tearful Tess shares her suspicions with her, Birdie hugs her and says, “Men. Bah. You can’t live with ’em, and you can’t move furniture without them.” That was one of Louise’s old gripes. “Are you sure he’s cheating?”
“No, not positive.” Tess blows her nose. “I’ve been all over the place. When we stopped making love, I thought, at first, he was just sick of me and all my problems. I didn’t suspect he was having an affair until he started giving me lame excuses about why he was coming home late on Wednesday nights. Then a month or so later, he blurted out that his lack of interest didn’t have anything to do with me. He told me he was being so distant because he was having a midlife crisis and that he was impotent. He had a lot of the classic symptoms, so I wanted to believe that, but now…,” she starts to well up again.
“Do you suspect someone?” Birdie asks.
“The hostess at the diner. Connie Lushman.”
Birdie purses her lips. “Why does that name sound so familiar?”
“Will was engaged to her when we met at Arthur Murray.”
“Ahhh…right. You have any proof they’re messing around besides him not coming home late on Wednesday nights?”
Tess tells her about the smell of Tabu and the long blond hairs she finds on Will’s shirts, and then she asks the one who knows her like no other, “Do you think I’m just being paranoid? Or as Will likes to say, making one of my erroneous assumptions?”
Birdie takes a minute to consider all that Tess has shared with her. She knows that her opinions matter to her, especially the medical ones. “A midlife crisis can be disabling, and they’re real individual in nature. I’ve typed up reports where men have affairs like it’s their job, and others who experience a radical downswing in their love life. There could also be other reasons why Will might be holding back.”
“Like…?”
“Stress. Or he could think of you as too fragile. That happens a lot in cancer cases. Husbands get afraid they’ll break their sick wives. Or maybe he’s a little nervous to try again after such a long time. What if he failed?” Birdie runs the tip of her tongue across her top lip and connects with the milk mustache. “Or you could be right and he is messing around. Have you tried talking to him?”
“He’s not big on conversation, never has been. I tried a couple of times to draw him out before I got sick, but he would suddenly need to go to work or start snoring, and when I had to have the surgeries and then radiation I stopped trying because what if he admitted he was having an affair? I couldn’t face knowing the truth, not then.”
Birdie takes Tessie’s hands in hers and says, “All I can tell you is that when he looks at you, there’s love in his eyes. And no offense meant, but…he doesn’t seem smart enough to pull off an affair. That takes timing, execution, and attention to detail. His barn door was open when he left for work tonight.”
Tess had noticed that as well, but how many times can you remind a guy?
Birdie regroups. “Besides the hair and perfume, which is totally circumstantial, by the way, you got any other proof that Connie’s makin’ a play for Will?”
“The girls at the diner talk about their love lives all the time, but Connie doesn’t, and I know she’s involved with somebody. I overhead Otto say that she has a boyfriend and he’s the kind of guy who doesn’t miss much of anything.”
“And Otto is…?”
“The dishwasher.” Tess fills her in on his obsession with the CIA and the Planet Argon, his dedication and fondness for Will, how he’d stalked the girl from the resale shop, and finally, his heart-rending breakup with his Russian mail-order bride.
“Other than the obvious paranoia, he sounds romantic, like a take-charge kind of guy,” Birdie says a little dreamy, like Tess had just described the dashing lead character in a Barbara Cartland novel.
“I don’t…I can’t keep….” Tess rolls onto her back and tugs the covers over her face. “I have to find out if Will’s cheating on me. Time’s running out.”
It’s Tuesday. Friday is their wedding anniversary. He must’ve planned something. If for no other reason than keeping up appearances in front of the kids. Dinner out, probably. It’s not often the Blessings get the chance to paint the town, but when they do, Will makes a reservation at The Edge of Town. A popular supper club in the forties—it was once a favorite amongst Chicago gangsters—the abandoned building had fallen into disrepair until family friend and fellow restaurateur, Tommy McMann, bought it five years ago and renovated it. Besides offering the best prime rib on the North Shore, he’d brought back crooner-type live music, a parquet dance floor, and hat check girls. Same as the diner, it’s the kind of establishment that attracts folk who are hungry for the good old days.
Birdie asks, “So how’re you gonna do that?”
Lost in her thoughts, Tess asks, “What?”
“Find out if Will’s cheating on you.”
“I was thinking we’d follow him tomorrow ni
ght.”
Her sister bolts up and yanks the covers off Tess’s face. “We’re gonna tail him?”
Like her, Birdie is a mystery buff from way back. The girls had spent much of their childhood tracking down answers to life’s little mysteries. They were lovers of Nancy Drew and any and all television crime or whodunit shows. They spied on people in the neighborhood. During those summer nights out on the stoop, they’d even talked about having their own detective agency when they grew up. Tess’s natural abilities led her to ballroom dance and then comedy, but Birdie seriously considered becoming a gumshoe after she moved down to Boca Raton. Private detection is a good job for the hypervigilant. They like being alone for long periods of time without stimulus, excel at puzzle-solving, and are superb at spotting dangerous situations. Barely anything escapes their eagle eyes. Conversely, they lack patience, can get sidetracked by their emotions, and cars can be claustrophobic, which is why Birdie decided to become a medical transcriptionist instead.
She eagerly says, “What’s the plan?”
It’d been a momentous and monstrously long day, and Tess feels too pooped to participate one minute longer. She reaches over and switches off the bedside table lamp and says, “I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow, okay? I’m beat.”
She spoons Birdie, who a few minutes later, confirms, “So we’re going sightseeing and shopping in the morning, eat lunch at the diner, and we’ll have pepperoni pizza for supper, and then follow Will around to see if he’s cheating on you with Connie Lushman.” She’s organizing tomorrow in her head. She needs to know what she’ll be doing every minute because her idle mind is the devil’s workshop. “Right?”
Already half-asleep, Tess mumbles, “Uh-huh. ’Night, Bird.”
Moments later, “Tessie?”
“Yeah?”
When Birdie rolls over to face her, she has the red wax lips stuck in her mouth.
After Tessie gives her four kisses, the Finley sisters drift off in each other arms to sleep the sleep of the ones that were lost and now are found.
Loose Lips Sink Ships
When they were kids, Tessie called her sister, who tended to rise the same time the sun did, “Early Bird,” and the nickname still holds true.
When my friend came down to the kitchen the next morning, it was to find that Birdie and Will had whipped up breakfast together. Now that she was used to him, Tess could tell that her sister found her husband charming, but everybody did. Despite her doubts about his fidelity, she did. She couldn’t help it if he still made her heart beat faster and her inner thighs tingle.
Tess says, “Morning!” and offers to help, but they push her out of the kitchen. “Sit,” they say. “Your tea’s coming right up.”
From her place at the pine table, she can’t hear what Birdie and Will are talking about while they bustle about preparing pancakes. It feels almost conspiratorial, but that’s ridiculous, she tells herself. She’s allowing her paranoia about Will to color the most innocent of exchanges. What’s next? He slipped curare into the Log Cabin bottle? Birdie blended Ebola into the butter?
Spring vacation is over for Henry, so after the six of them, including Garbo, chow down, he heads outside to wait for his ride over to Ruby Falls High. Haddie, who had eaten a silver dollar-sized pancake and didn’t pay a visit to the bathroom afterwards, is spending the day in Chicago at the Art Institute with her boyfriend, Kevin, so she left with her dad, who’ll drop her off at the train station in downtown Milwaukee before he heads over to the diner.
As Birdie loads the dishwasher with the breakfast dishes, she says to Tessie, who’s cleaning up batter flecks on the stove, “I really like the kids. I feel bad about not playing a larger part in the lives. Haddie is sweet and so talented, and Henry is a lot like you, but a much, much better card player. I’m still holding a Gin Rummy IOU from 1961, by the way. A dollar and a box of Jujubes. I’d appreciate payment at your earliest convenience.”
Tess chuckles and says, “The kids still have a lot of growing up to do and you could be a part of that.” She wants to add on, Up close and personal, but she’s got to be careful. If she pushes too hard, she’ll scare her. Same as Tessie, more than anything Birdie wants to be wanted, but grows suspicious when people do.
When the kitchen duties were a fait accompli, Birdie, still in her pretty pajamas with frills, put on her rubber gloves and got right to work scrubbing the powder-room sink that she’d wanted to tackle last night. She says very seriously to Tess, who’s sitting on the toilet lid keeping her company, “I spent some time thinking about it, like two or three hours, and I’m pretty sure I figured out why Will doesn’t want to do the Scorpion Dance of Love with you anymore.”
All ears, Tess says, “Why?”
Birdie points at the ratty cows-sipping-café-au-lait-on-the-Champs-Élysées nightie and says, “Talk about a penis shrinker.”
Tess grins and goes back to staring at the To-Do List that’s become so worn and creased that it looks like it should be kept under glass at the Ruby Falls Historical Museum.
Birdie glances over and asks, “One of your lists?”
Tess holds it up and points to the last item to be crossed out—number four. Convince Will to love me again. (What about Connie?)
Birdie shrugs, resumes scrubbing, and says, “Things seem really good between you two other than the hoochie-koochie stuff. You sure you want to follow him tonight?
Tess considers all the Wednesday nights Will’s told her that he’ll be home late because he was doing the books or meeting with a supplier or reviewing an employee, but would come home smelling like Connie’s perfume. “Wish I didn’t have to know what he’s up to, but I do.” She couldn’t give her heart to him any longer if she wasn’t certain that she could trust him. She’s always felt that wives who turn a blind eye and the other cheek are not virtuous, just slow learners. How would he respond if she catches him red-handed tonight? Would he blame his midlife crisis? Her emotional instability? Something else entirely? Whatever his reaction, the marriage would be over. They’d keep living together, for Henry’s sake. If he noticed that she was sleeping in the guest room, she’d make a crack about his dad’s snoring. But once he left for college, she would…what? Leave Will? A life without him is unimaginable.
Tess replaces the To-Do List back in her nightie pocket, inspects the sink, gives her sister a thumbs-up, and says, “Time to get the show on the road.”
Birdie surprises her by not putting up too much of a fuss. She strips off her Playtex gloves and throws them in the bucket. “Fine, but I’m not through here. Your tile needs caulk…caulk…caulk…caulk. Can we stop at a hardware store when we’re out?”
Birdie attended her sister’s wedding at St. Lucy’s, but all she’d seen of Ruby Falls was the inside of the church, and the ballroom at the country club where the reception had been held. Given how much she loves and intimately knows the town, Tessie is an extraordinary tour guide. She takes Birdie around to the historical spots first—the covered bridge, the granary, and the falls. They even swing by the old convent where Tess gets her up to speed on the rest of the adventures she’d had with Sisters Faith, Hope, and yours truly before they hit the downtown stores. Birdie loves to shop. She tries to talk Tess into buying a new purse at one of the many boutiques, but only as a joke. She knows her sister would rather die than surrender her lucky black one. Birdie is especially knocked out by the sweets section at The Emporium. She left the old-fashioned store with a pound box of chocolate-covered cherries, her all-time favorite.
Uptown, Tess points out Peaches ’n Cream, the salon that she so rarely frequents. Birdie, who takes enormous pride in her appearance and is meticulously well groomed, like their mother was, talks her into a walk-in visit. “Your hair…God. And I could use a manicure.” She steers her sister toward the salon door. “Let’s see if they have any openings.”
Tess doesn’t resist because she knows they won’t. The salon is the busiest in town and the chance of her popular stylist being ava
ilable is nil.
But when the Peaches ’n Cream receptionist, Katie, checks her computer, she tells them, “Wow! Talk about luck. We have a manicure opening and Suzanne just had a last-minute cancellation.” (The events that unfold later this evening will be imprinted forever in Birdie and Tessie’s brain. When they flash back to tonight’s showdown, it’d be nice for them to look their best. The manicurist was already available, but I went ahead and flattened the tire on Ellie Thompson’s car, which opened up the spot in Suzanne’s schedule.)
Once they’ve completed their beautifying treatments, Birdie who had her nails painted purple, pokes fun at risk-adverse Tess’s new do. “What’d Suzanne take off…a sixteenth of an inch?” and then she reminds her for the fourth time that before they head over to Count Your Blessings for lunch, they need to swing by Hoover’s Hardware.
After Birdie finishes obsessing over the different colored caulks—“I should’ve dug some of the old stuff out and brought it with me for comparison”—bawdy Babs Hoover rings them up. As she suggestively slips the white tube into the sack, she asks Tess, “You and the hubby doing a little crack-filling tonight?” followed by one of her air-raid siren laughs that sends both girls running.
There’s a sign taped to the front door of Count Your Blessings. CLOSING AT 7:00 TONIGHT.
“That’s not gonna mess up our plan is it?” Birdie asks Tess.
“No. Will’s only closing to the public at seven. One of the cooler motors has to be replaced. It was supposed to happen this Sunday, but then the health inspector….” It’s too long an explanation. “He and the staff are going to do inventory until the usual closing time. (That’s what he told her anyway.)
Birdie, who was fussed over by Will when he shows them to a table near the window, is predictably captivated by the diner. Johnny Angel is playing on the jukebox, and the ’50s decor and food really is fantastic. “It’s like being a kid again and having lunch at Dalinsky’s Drugstore!” she says.