“At a café in Boca called Cuppa Joy. I looked them up online. They offer the usual café fare, plus fixed-price meals for different ethnic tastes. It actually sounds kind of interesting.”
“Did you call to see if you need to add a reservation? The group must reserve a number of seats ahead of time.”
“I’ll do it in the morning. I wonder how Tally heard about them, and how long she’s been going.”
Dalton gave her a perceptive glance. “You’re miffed she didn’t mention it to you. Maybe she wanted to do something new and different on her own.”
“You’ve known Tally since high school, haven’t you?” Brianna asked Marla. The teen pushed her empty dinner plate away and retrieved her homework from a nearby backpack.
“That’s right. We grew up in New York State and were BFFs until college.” Marla sagged in her seat as memories invaded her mind. “Tally applied to NYU. She wanted to get a job in fashion merchandising after she graduated. My parents had bought a condo in Florida and were wintering there, so I headed south to University of Miami. I majored in education to become a teacher, which was more my mother’s ambition than mine.”
“Did you and Tally keep in touch with each other?” Brianna’s brow furrowed, as though she were contemplating her own departure for college in a few more years. She’d already mentioned her desire to attend school in Boston, a notion that displeased Dalton.
“Yes, we did,” Marla replied, eager to share her history with Tally. “During the first summer, we both came home and hung out together. Our parents belonged to a swim club in Westchester, so we either went there or cruised the shopping malls. During the second summer, Tally seemed preoccupied, but I had my own problems by then.”
“That’s when Tammy died,” Dalton said in a soft tone meant to soothe.
“I dropped out of college. And a year later, I married Stan.” He’d been the attorney she hired after Tammy’s parents threatened to sue her for their toddler’s death. Marla hadn’t wanted to trouble her parents, as her father wasn’t well. How she had earned the money to pay the lawyer’s bill was another shameful episode in her past.
“Where did Tally and Ken meet each other?” Brianna inquired, gripping a pen in one hand. Her school notebook lay open on the table.
“They met at NYU. Ken came from Florida, and he meant to return home after earning his degree. He wanted to work in the insurance business. His family had been through a hurricane, and the experience had gotten him interested in disaster claims. Plus, he missed the south and the slower pace of life.”
“So he proposed? And Tally was willing to give up her dreams of living in the city to move to Florida?” Brianna clicked her ballpoint pen on and off.
Marla glanced away. Hadn’t she told Dalton and Brianna this story before? It brought back painful memories, but maybe slogging through them would help something surface that might be relevant today.
“They planned to marry after graduation,” she continued, “but Tally’s mother, who was divorced, became ill. Tally stayed home to care for her until she died. After settling her mother’s estate, Tally moved south and married Ken. She was twenty-three. I was already married to Stan at that time.”
“Was that when you first met Ken?”
“No, I’d visited Tally in college and got to know him then. Tally asked me to be maid of honor at their wedding. It was a quiet affair, since she still mourned her mother’s loss. She used her inheritance money for the dress shop. Both she and Ken focused on their careers during their first ten years of marriage.”
“How did Tally like Stan? Did you ever get together as couples?” Unable to sit still, Brianna doodled in her notebook.
Marla smiled inwardly. Brianna would be great on the debate team, which she’d said she wanted to join next year. The acting classes she took now were only to improve her public speaking skills. It appeared she’d picked up interviewing techniques from her dad as well.
“We renewed our friendship, but the guys merely tolerated each other. Tally could see I was unhappy. It didn’t help that my mother adored Stan. What’s not to like about a rich, Jewish lawyer? But he was a control freak. Everything I did had to meet with his approval. Tally saved me from him.”
Dalton rolled his eyes. He’d heard this part before, but Brianna hadn’t. Marla wanted to explain it to her, so Brianna would avoid the same mistakes.
“Tally suggested I go to cosmetology school. She knew doing hair was a passion of mine. After graduation, I worked for a year in a salon. During that time, I gained confidence in myself and initiated divorce proceedings. I used the settlement money from Stan to start my own business.”
“So you owe Tally a lot,” Brianna concluded. “If not for her, you might still be married to Stan. Didn’t he resent her interference?”
“If so, he didn’t show it. Besides, wife number two came along to distract him. A guy like Stan attracts women like conditioner to shampoo.”
“But Tally and Ken seemed happy together?”
“That’s right. They were vested in their careers and did some traveling. Then Tally decided she wanted to have children. She had trouble getting pregnant, and Ken was nervous about the financial strain of raising kids. He put money into that gemstone mine and didn’t tell Tally about it. You remember,” she said, tilting her head toward Dalton.
He drummed his fingers on the table. “Yeah, we were concerned about why he was acting secretive at the time. Fortunately, that North Carolina mine paid off when they hit a lode. But you’d said Tally seemed preoccupied during your sophomore summer,” he told Marla. “Could she have been worried about her mother’s health?”
“Tally did mention her mom, but with a hint of bitterness rather than concern. I’m not sure what happened between them, but you may have a point. Maybe her mother refused to heed the warning signs, and Tally was angry with her over it. But that doesn’t seem like enough to explain Tally’s behavior. There could have been other issues bothering her.”
“Sometimes the past unlocks a key to the present,” he suggested.
Marla might have pursued his enigmatic statement, but Luke’s whimpers indicated he needed a diaper change. Besides, it was past his bath time.
She rose and carried the dirty dishes to the sink, where it was Brianna’s chore to wash them that night. Then she scooped up the baby and hefted him toward the bedroom wing.
Later, she’d consider why Tally had seemed estranged that summer. Was she worried about her mother’s health, or was something else on her mind that she hadn’t shared?
Chapter Eight
Thursday rolled around before Marla knew it. Work and duties at home had kept her busy in the interim. She looked forward to a respite with a few hours off that afternoon.
The café where the tea circle ladies were set to meet was located on a side street off Glades Road in Boca Raton. Marla pulled into the parking lot, noting the crowded spaces. Business must be good at this place.
She scanned the two-story structure after emerging into the cool January air. The restaurant appeared to be downstairs in a converted house. Tables were set on a covered front porch, but most patrons sat indoors for warmth.
With her purse tucked under her arm, she strode inside, thinking she’d get lunch if the tea circle was a bust. She paused just beyond the entrance to examine the interior. The spacious room held white-clothed tables with fine china settings and vases of fresh flowers. Antique portraits decorated the walls, while classical music played in the background. Marla sniffed a pleasant cinnamon scent and decided she liked the cozy atmosphere. Waiters entered the dining room from a kitchen at the rear, where a side staircase had a Private Only sign blocking access.
Most of the tables held up to four people, except for a circular table near the bay windows in front. Although it was set for eight, only four chairs were occupied. Did that mean the group expected more people to arrive? Marla had called ahead and had been reassured adequate seating would be available.
Sh
e approached the women seated there and gave them a broad grin. “Hi, is this the tea circle? I’m Marla Vail. My friend, Tally Riggs, told me about you, and I was hoping to join.”
A brunette with a tapered bob and a pleasingly round face glanced toward the door. “Is Tally here? We haven’t heard from her lately.”
Marla, taking the comment as an affirmative response, plopped into a chair next to the woman. She arranged her purse strap across the seat before facing the other patrons. From the filled teacups at their place settings, she surmised they’d already helped themselves from a large porcelain teapot on the table.
“Tally has been in an accident. Nobody notified you?”
“No, is she all right?” the same woman said, her eyes wide.
“She’s, um, recovering. Tally had told me about this group, and I’d been meaning to come. I hope you don’t mind my barging in like this.”
The lady on her other side tapped her arm. “We’re glad to have you,” she said a smooth tone. “I’m Rissa Kyle, by the way.”
Rissa wore her red hair parted in the middle with loose ringlets that looked movie-star perfect. Marla tried not to examine her roots too closely. She suspected she’d see extensions in that mass of locks. The plum color on Rissa’s pouty lips complimented the lavender top she wore over a flowery skirt. Her skin stretched taut, a little too taut to be natural.
The other women introduced themselves. On Marla’s right sat Edie, the brunette. Marla appreciated her welcoming smile.
Deanne was a stick-thin woman whose straight black hair hung down her back. Her blunt-cut bangs gave her an older-era vibe belied by her youthful face. The stark style made her countenance appear even narrower. With her prominent nose and gaunt cheekbones, she’d make a good witch at Halloween. Her low, throaty voice added to the impression.
Bridget wore her bleached blond hair in a curly, chin-length cut with side-swept bangs. Her blue eyes regarded Marla warily, as though she viewed her as a competitor. She wore a heavy layer of mascara, a western-style shirt with fringe over a tight pair of jeans, and an aura of disdain.
“So tell us why you’re interested in joining our group, Marla.” Rissa’s brows arched. “Are you bored at home? Hoping to meet new friends? Looking for something different and exciting in your life?”
“Yes, what do you do?” Deanne chimed in.
“First, I’d like to learn more about this circle. How did you get started?” Marla leaned back as a waiter appeared.
“Tea or coffee, miss?”
“I’d like coffee, please. Regular, with cream on the side.”
“It’s our tradition to have tea,” Bridget remarked. “Green tea is full of healthy anti-oxidants. You should drink at least one cup a day.”
“Oh. Is that what’s in the teapot? That’ll be fine,” she told the waiter. After he’d poured her a cup and left, she regarded the others expectantly.
Rissa addressed her question. “I started the group and advertised it online as a meet-up for ladies. We meet twice a month and rotate the site. Each of us takes a turn hosting and finding a location.”
“So you don’t always meet here?”
“Heck, no. In recent times, we’ve been to a chocolate factory, a yoga studio, and a vegan restaurant. It’s fun to try new places. Our single requirement is that they have to offer refreshments and give us a tour, if applicable.”
“Sounds like fun. I can see how it would appeal to Tally. So you’re not all new moms looking to get away from the kids for a few hours?” Marla had thought this might be a variation of the mommy and me theme, but minus the infants.
“Good God, no.” Bridget snorted with laughter. “Tally might be a new mother, but we’ve been around that block already. How about you?”
Marla almost choked on a sip of tea. “I’m married, but I don’t have children of my own. My husband’s teenage daughter is enough for me to handle. It’s a second marriage for us both,” she explained. “So then, what’s the purpose of this group? To get together and schmooze?”
“To make new friends and share opportunities,” Rissa replied with a meaningful glance at Bridget. The two of them exchanged a secret smile.
Marla hoped she hadn’t stumbled into the wrong kind of group. But then, Tally wouldn’t have belonged, would she? “What kind of opportunities do you mean?”
“We’re always looking for flexible ways to earn money, or where to go to get work done,” Bridget said in a snotty tone. “When we get to be a certain age, we have to keep up appearances. And having some money filter in on our own helps us fund that maintenance.”
Marla’s inner sense told her an undercurrent ran through this conversation, but she wasn’t getting it. Were they discussing face-lifts and Botox treatments? Tally didn’t need it. Her friend still had the bone structure and looks of a model. So why had she joined? For the friendships alone? Had her feelings of closeness to Marla evaporated to the extent that she needed to go elsewhere? Had Marla been too self-absorbed to notice?
“You didn’t mention what you do most of the time,” Deanne persisted. Her espresso brown eyes aimed darts at Marla meant to make her disgorge information.
“I’m a … housewife.” She’d been about to say “hairdresser” but didn’t feel these women worked for a living. They might not appreciate her social status. “My husband is employed in the security field, and he earns enough that I can stay home. I keep busy with my activities.”
Oy, she sounded like an airhead. But that must have pleased Rissa, because the lady on her left gave her a crocodile smile. “How lovely. Or how boring, depending on how you look at it. We prefer the term domestic managers, don’t we?” she queried the group.
Bridget stared down at them. “My husband is CEO of a Fortune 500 company. We have an apartment in Manhattan as well as a summer place on Nantucket Island. I’m heavily involved in charitable functions. We support many worthy causes, if you’re interested in volunteer work.”
“I donate my time to the Child Drowning Prevention Coalition,” Marla admitted.
“Speaking of kids, the Florida legislature finally passed that bill allowing people to rescue children or pets from locked vehicles in the summer heat, without incurring civil penalties.” Edie’s face flushed as everyone’s attention diverted her way.
Bridget’s mouth thinned. “That’s a good move on their part. You should be glad, after what your husband did.”
“Bridget, shut up.” Edie fidgeted, clearly uncomfortable with the turn of conversation.
The blonde addressed Marla. “He left Edie’s elderly mother in his car and locked it with his remote. Then he went into Target, where he got caught shoplifting a bunch of electronics. The cops found the mother-in-law alone in his car panting and barely alive.”
“He just meant to go inside for a few minutes,” Edie said. “As for those gizmos, he forgot to stop by the cash register on his way out.”
“Oh, sure, Edie. Like he forgot to put the money in the right account at work. He’s in the clinker where he belongs. You’re lucky to be rid of him.”
“That’s not true. He’s a good husband. They wanted to make an example of him, when they should be putting the murderers and rapists away instead.”
“Girls, let’s not get nasty,” Rissa intervened. “We’re supposed to be here to support each other.”
“Tell me more about the bill that passed,” Marla said to Edie to change the subject.
Edie clasped her hands in her lap. “I got involved after my mom nearly died. Little children are the main concern. You read in the news every week about how some kid has suffered heatstroke and died a horrible death from being trapped in a car. Florida is second to Texas in the rates of child deaths due to this cause.”
“I don’t understand. How can any parent leave their child unattended inside a car?”
“Beats me, but not every mom or dad is as vigilant as we are. Or, kids might be playing outside, and they climb into the trunk thinking it’s fun. They get locked
inside accidentally, and no one knows where they are until it is too late. Young children are at higher risk because their bodies heat three to five times faster than an adult’s.”
“That’s terrible. I can barely tolerate getting into a car in the summer before the a/c kicks in. It wouldn’t take long for body temperatures to rise to critical levels if you were stuck inside.” Marla gripped her spoon, imagining how difficult it would be to breathe in the suffocating heat. For a child trapped in a car, minutes would be all it would take. What a torturous way to go.
Edie’s eyes blazed with zeal. “I belong to the Safety First Alliance. It’s an organization aimed at educating the public about these hazards. Tally said that after she’d had her baby, she couldn’t understand how anyone could lose track of their kids for even one minute.”
Marla’s hurt freshened. When had she and Tally become so distanced? Preventing accidental deaths in children was important to her, too.
“I’m interested in learning more,” she said. “What can be done in terms of prevention?”
“People have to be educated never to leave a child alone in a car,” Edie stated. “Doors should be kept locked so kids can’t get inside on their own, and the remote or keychain should be stored in a child-proof location.”
“That seems logical. What else?”
“Drivers can put an item in the backseat that they’ll need at their destination, such as a briefcase or purse, as a reminder that their child is in the car with them. It’s easier to forget you have your kid there when your routine is changed. Personnel at day care centers can also be alerted to call the parent if the child isn’t dropped off at the expected time.”
“I used to keep a stuffed animal in our son’s car seat,” Deanne said with a pout, as though any lapse of judgment was beneath her. “After I’d put Jake inside, I would sit the doll next to me in the front. It helped me remember he was there. You can’t be too careful. Mothers have left their children in the car to go inside a gas station and pay the bill or use the bathroom. All it takes is a few minutes for the interior of a car to heat to lethal levels when it’s hot outside.”
14 Hair Brained Page 10
