The Sisters Club

by Lauren Baratz-Logsted

  “Wait a second. You booked this thinking the Georgia coast was near Atlanta?”

  “You mean it’s not?”

  “Before Minnie got sick, we went to Scotland together and took one of those tours where you walk across the country in a week. But this is the United States, not Europe. And every state in the country isn’t like Connecticut where you can throw a stone and hit New York. You’re talking Georgia, for crying out loud. It’s big!”

  “Oh. I see.”

  “By the way, how were you planning on getting all of us down to the Georgia coast?”

  Diana’s tone lightened once more. “That’s the best part! I’ve rented us one of those RVs!”

  • • •

  After checking e-mail one last time, Lise closed the lid on her laptop. She unplugged the machine and wound up the cord, tucking the whole in its special case. She put the encased laptop by the suitcase, already packed, on the bed. Then she unzipped the suitcase one last time to see if she was forgetting anything.

  “Don’t you think you’re taking this friendship thing too far?” Tony said. He was slouched against the doorframe, arms crossed as he watched her move about the bedroom.

  “No, I don’t,” Lise said, not bothering to look up as she squeezed a few more pairs of panties into the already overstuffed suitcase.

  “Your own sister was sick in Africa, and you didn’t go there.”

  “That was different.”

  “How so?”

  “For one thing, it was still during the school year. I couldn’t very well have just up and deserted my responsibilities mid semester.”

  “Why not? I’m sure the dean would have let you.”

  “Perhaps. But Sara was being well taken care of in the hospital. She didn’t need me.”

  “So why do you have to go too? Why can’t Sylvia and Diana take care of this on their own?”

  “Sylvia says that for the intervention she’s got planned to work—”

  “God, I hate that psycho doublespeak. Intervention.”

  “We should all be in on it.”

  “But she’s not your sister. You’ve known Cindy for less than a year, barely more than six months, and you’re running off to help her when you wouldn’t even go to your own sister?”

  “You keep saying that. But maybe who we’re closest to isn’t always about blood. Maybe it has something to do with who we choose.”

  “I thought you chose me.”

  “It’s not about that kind of choosing! This has nothing to do with you!”

  “Apparently not,” Tony said. Then: “I may not be here when you get back.”

  “That’s not surprising.” Lise tried on a laugh. “You have your own place. It only seems like you live here because you’re over here all the time.”

  “It’s just too much, Lise. You quit your job without even discussing it with me first.”

  “It was my decision to make!”

  “Half the time I don’t even know what’s going on between you and Dirk over that damn book.”

  “It’s my book!”

  “And now you’re running off to Georgia to perform an…intervention for some woman you’ve known for less than a year, when the other two could just as easily do it without you.”

  “But I’ve already explained that—”

  “It doesn’t matter. What I meant before was that I may not be here as in I may no longer be a part of us.”

  Lise stiffened as she grabbed the suitcase handle in one hand, the laptop in the other.

  “Then that’ll be your choice,” she said.

  • • •

  “You can’t do this!” Magda screamed through the phone.

  “Of course I can do this,” Sylvia said evenly, clearly not bothered by being shouted at by her hysterical producer. “I’ve done it.”

  “But the show is a huge success! Did you see what Jonathan Dalrymple wrote in the New York Post? ‘A food fight! It made me crazy when that one taster kept asking Sylvia to tell everyone what she was doing. All I could think was, oh, I’d actually watch a cooking show that didn’t bother trying to teach me something. I don’t want to learn. I'm just there for the food porn! And when the food started flying through the air? I actually caught some of it. And, let me tell you, that flung food was superb. I think Sylvia Goldsmith has a summer hit on her hands and I, for one, am now a devoted fan of The Rude Chef. Throw some more food at me, Sylvia baby. I’ll eat it right up.’”

  “I’m very happy for you,” Sylvia said. “But we’ve already taped all six of the scheduled summer episodes. You don’t need me here. I can just as easily watch myself on TV from Georgia as I can from Connecticut.”

  “But what about the publicity? The Today Show called. The Today Show! They want you to come on and do a live segment. I think they want you to throw food at Matt Lauer.”

  “And I’m sure me and Matt’d both find it a treat. Sorry, Magda. I’ve got more important things to do. I have a friend in need.”

  “But it’s in your contract! It says you’re required to fulfill any reasonable requests to do promotion for the show. I’d say the Today Show is a pretty reasonable request! We could sue you!”

  “You really think so?” Sylvia’s voice would have sounded just like steel if she weren’t laughing. “If you’re lucky, and the show continues being a hit, maybe I’ll come back to you in the fall. But if you sue me now, my fans will eat you and your network alive.”

  • • •

  “What do you think of these jeans?” Diana said, doing a more confident model’s twirl than she’d formerly done. “They’re called Tummy Tucks. They’re the latest thing.”

  “They look great on you,” Dan said from his position on the bed where he was lying on his side, head propped on his hand. “But you do realize it gets hot in Georgia in August, don’t you?”

  “Hot?”

  “Much hotter than here.”

  “Oh. I see. Then perhaps these khaki shorts I bought yesterday? I didn’t usually ever wear shorts. But lately I’ve started thinking, why not?”

  “I’m sure whatever you wear, you’ll look terrific.”

  “Thanks. Now where did I put that box with the new sandals?”

  “I still can’t believe you’re going. How long will you be gone?”

  “I booked the house for the whole month. I don’t know if we’ll stay that long, but at least the option’s there if we decide to.”

  “So you might not even be back for Labor Day.”

  “Why? Is that a very important holiday for you?”

  Dan just shook his head. “And how did you pay for all this? The house on the beach…that RV out front…the clothes.”

  Diana looked shocked. “Why, the same way I pay for everything. With one of the credit cards you gave me, of course.”

  Dan didn’t say anything.

  “You don’t mind, do you? You’ve never minded before.”

  “No, of course it’s not the money.”

  “Then what?”

  “You’ve changed, Diana. These last several months, you’ve changed a lot.”

  Diana put her hands on her noticeably slimmer hips. “One would think you would like those changes. Most men would.”

  “Maybe I’m not most men.”

  “I don’t know what that means. And I don’t have time to figure it out now. If I don’t leave soon, I’m going to be late to meet the girls.”

  “We can’t have that, can we?”

  Diana, hearing the sharpness of his tone, stopped what she was doing and looked at his face clearly for the first time. Finally registering the depth of his displeasure, she approached him and placed her hand against his cheek. “Come on,” she said softly. “Can’t you see how important this is to me? That I need to be there for my friend in her hour of need?”

  “What I see is that we haven’t been married for very long, not really, and now you’re running off and, like with so many other things, this is a decision you made without even discussing i
t with me first.”

  “I’m sorry. Of course you’re right. I should have.” Diana glanced surreptitiously at her watch. “Oh, God! I really do have to—”

  “Fine.”

  “Aren’t you going to at least kiss me good-bye? Aren’t you going to miss me?”

  “I miss the woman I fell in love with,” Dan said, “every day.” Then he shook his head. “But, no. I don’t think I’ll miss the new you.”

  • • •

  Sylvia lay in her bed with her head against Sunny’s chest. They were both fully clothed.

  “Do you think we’re doing the right thing?” Sylvia asked again.

  “Not only do I think you are doing the right thing, I think you are perhaps doing the only thing. What is more, I wholly endorse it.”

  Sylvia let out a sigh of relief.

  “There is just one thing that still worries me,” Sunny said. “What if Eddie comes after you? Things could get ugly.”

  “That’s the whole point of leaving in the middle of the night. By the time he figures out we’re gone, we’ll be halfway to Georgia.” She paused, considering the people she’d be traveling with. “We’ll at least be across state lines.”

  “Cindy still does not know?”

  “No. The others should be here soon. Then I’ll wake her up. It feels funny lying here with you like this with Cindy and Carly in the other bedroom. It makes me feel like we’re their parents.”

  “Speak for yourself.” Sunny laughed. “I am not old enough to be their father. My mother would have killed me.”

  Sylvia swatted his shoulder.

  “I shall miss you, Sylvia.”

  Sylvia sat up, gazed down at his face. “You’ll be here when I get back?”

  “Of course. I am your great good friend.”

  • • •

  “But I can’t just take off!” Cindy said, still wiping the residual sleep out of her eyes.

  “Of course you can,” Sylvia said.

  “What about my job at Midnight Scandals?”

  Sylvia snorted. “I thought you never liked that job anyway. This’ll give you the perfect excuse to quit.”

  “Actually,” Carly piped up, “I was thinking I could take over your job. I need work and you always said Marlene could never tell any of her sales help apart, that it didn’t matter who was working there so long as the D cups stayed out of the As because whenever they got mixed up, customers got all insecure and everything.”

  “What?” Cindy’s eyes narrowed at her sister. “You’re in on this too? Not that I’m even sure what this is.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Carly said, her eyes going all innocent.

  “But what about Eddie?” Cindy said. “He was going to come by tomorrow night. Or would that be tonight?”

  “Oh, don’t worry about Eddie,” Carly said. “I can take care of him too.”

  Cindy turned to Lise. “What about the work on your book?”

  Lise waved her laptop case in the air. “Nice thing about the modern era. A writer can write anywhere.”

  Cindy turned to Diana. “What about Dan? You’ve been married less than a year. Isn’t he bothered by the idea of your leaving?”

  “No,” Diana spoke softly. “I don’t think Dan’s going to miss me at all.”

  “What about your TV show?” Cindy spun on Sylvia. “What about your business, Sylvia’s Supper?”

  “I told Magda the damn show could spin without me for a month,” Sylvia said. “As for the business, I’ll put a sign up on our way out of town: ‘Gone fishing. See you in September…maybe.’”

  “A month? September? But I can’t go away for a whole month. What about my ob-gyn visits?”

  “You just had your last one recently, didn’t you?”

  Cindy nodded.

  “And everything was OK?”

  Cindy nodded again.

  “And you’re still at the stage where you only go once a month anyway. The once-a-week stuff doesn’t start until much later, right?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “So you’ll be on time for your next appointment.” Sylvia thought about it for a minute then shrugged. “Or maybe you’ll be a little bit late.”

  “But—”

  Sylvia placed her hands on Cindy’s shoulders. “Look, when was the last time you went on a trip somewhere outside of Connecticut?”

  Cindy didn’t even have to consider that one but when she answered, she sounded just as surprised as the others looked. “Never.”

  “Then don’t you think you owe it to yourself? Wouldn’t it be great to go away with three girlfriends to have some wild fun before the baby comes and every second of your life changes?”

  “I guess.”

  “I’ve got just two words for you then,” Sylvia said. Then she screamed, “Road trip!”

  Lise

  “What are you doing?” Sylvia said as Diana moved to climb into the front passenger seat of the RV.

  “What?” Diana looked perplexed.

  “Aren’t you driving?” Sylvia asked.

  “God, no,” Diana said. “I only drove it over here. But you can’t expect me to drive it practically all the way down to the bottom of the United States. This isn’t even my country! As you’ve so often pointed out, I haven’t a clue as to the proper geography here.”

  “Don’t look at me,” Cindy said to Sylvia, climbing into the backseat. “I remember what a hard time you gave me that one time I drove you to the doctor’s in your catering van.”

  “I’m with her,” I said of Cindy, climbing in beside her.

  “Great,” Sylvia said, accepting the driver’s position.

  “Oh, come on,” I said, trying to joke her out of her suddenly foul mood. “You’re such a control freak, you’d hate it if anyone else drove.”

  “And that’s supposed to make me feel better?” she said, keying the ignition. Then she turned to Diana beside her. “Tell me you at least got us a map.”

  “Well, of course I got us a map. But do you really need it? I thought you just took I-95 straight down.”

  “And I thought you said you didn’t know where you’re going. But, yeah, we could do that. Or we could take the scenic route, which would take longer.”

  “Does the scenic route take us by the ocean?” Cindy piped up.

  “Uh, yeah,” Sylvia said with a laugh that was not unkind. “That’s why they call it the scenic route.”

  “I’ve never seen the ocean,” Cindy said wistfully.

  “You’re kidding,” I said.

  “No. Well, one time Eddie took me to Seaside Park in Bridgeport, but I don’t know if you’d count that.”

  “I wouldn’t,” Sylvia said, pulling out. “The scenic route it is.”

  • • •

  New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania.

  Each state took me farther away from Connecticut, farther from my breakup with Tony. I tried to tell myself that back there didn’t matter, that if Tony really loved me he’d have been more supportive when I made the decision to leave my job, that he’d be more supportive now of my need to support Cindy.

  As we drove, the sky began to lighten with the dawning of a new day. As we drove, Cindy snored softly beside me; before nodding off, she’d mentioned with a big yawn that the farther she got into the pregnancy, the more tired she was. As we drove on, I listened to Sylvia and Diana talking in the front seat.

  Mostly, it was Diana doing the talking. Mostly, Diana was talking about her diet and weight loss.

  “I’m a bit worried about this trip,” Diana confessed.

  “How so?” Sylvia asked.

  “Well, at home it’s easy for me to control what I eat. But here we’ll be on vacation for possibly a whole month. We’ll probably go out to eat three meals a day. How will I manage?”

  “You’ll do fine,” Sylvia said patiently. “We’re renting a house, right? I assume it will have a kitchen with refrigeration and cooking facilities. We can always bring food in a lot if yo
u’re that worried.”

  “I suppose,” Diana said skeptically. “I just don’t want to blow it after coming so far.”

  “You won’t.”

  “About that house…”

  “What about the house?”

  “Well, I was going over the rental agreement and brochure again this morning and it appears I made a slight mistake. Well, two slight mistakes actually.”

  “What two slight mistakes?”

  “For starters, the house isn’t right on the beach, per se.”

  “How much not per se is it?”

  “About four houses back from the ocean.”

  “Four houses? That’s not so bad.” Sylvia shrugged. “The walking will be good for Cindy. It’ll be good for all of us. So what’s the other slight mistake?”

  “Well,” Diana said with a little laugh, “I know you’ll laugh at how I could possibly screw this up, but remember I told you there were four bedrooms? Well, there are only three.”

  “I’m not laughing.”

  “Yes, I can see that.”

  “So what were you thinking? Two women will share and two will have singles?”

  “Exactly. I’m sure it will be fine.”

  “I’m too old to be living like a sorority sister,” Sylvia said, “sharing a dorm room.”

  “So,” Diana suggested, “perhaps you and I will have the singles and Lise and Cindy can bunk in together?”

  We drove on toward Delaware and, as we drove, I wondered why I had ever liked Diana so much.

  • • •

  Delaware.

  Cindy was awake now and Sylvia suggested stopping so Cindy could see the ocean. But when we got to Rehoboth Beach, the sky was so overcast with fog it was too hazy, like a scene from a post-nuclear movie.