Hot Flash Holidays

by Nancy Thayer

  Gideon peered over the top of his glasses. “Cleopatra!”

  “She’s not the woman I admire most, but she would be so much fun to impersonate. I always thought she was so glamorous and mysterious. Not to mention brilliant and cunning. She ruled Egypt. She seduced Antony with her beauty.” Suddenly Alice was completely mortified— to think she could masquerade as Cleopatra! “I’ve got to get some water.”

  In the bathroom she filled a glass, then held it to her neck, cooling off. Alice, you really are an idiot, she scolded herself.

  She couldn’t even look at Gideon when she got back into bed. “Anyway,” she began briskly, “I suppose—”

  “You know, I’d love to go as Marc Antony,” Gideon announced, to her complete surprise.

  “You’re kidding!”

  “No, I’m not. As a kid, I used to fantasize about being a gladiator. I wouldn’t want to be Caesar—he got assassinated. But I could really enjoy being Antony, especially if you were Cleopatra.”

  “Oh, Gideon!” Alice giggled. “This could be fun!”

  Over the next week, they indulged in a kind of Egyptian-history orgy. On the DVD player, they watched the movie starring Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton. Inspired, intrigued, they spent a day at the Egyptian rooms at the Museum of Fine Arts. Getting into the spirit of things, they ate in several Middle Eastern restaurants. They visited costume shops, trying on different possibilities, unable to suppress their pleasure as the age-old, childish game of dress-up made them envision themselves anew. They brought home books and videos about Egyptian tombs and treasures. They discussed the possibility of traveling to Egypt to view the pyramids.

  Because Gideon had been a schoolteacher before he retired, he suggested they read Shakespeare’s Antony and Cleopatra aloud in the evenings. At first Alice felt awkward, even silly, but soon the power of the story, told in Shakespeare’s intense, opulent language, drew her in. When they read of the extravagant barge with purple sails and silver oars bearing Cleopatra to Antony, Alice was captivated. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to be carried away when Gideon, in his deep, sonorous voice, read the famous lines: “Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale Her infinite variety; other women cloy The appetites they feed, but she makes hungry Where most she satisfies.”

  The night of Faye’s Halloween party, Alice stood in front of her bedroom mirror, scowling. She’d insisted on sharing a bottle of wine with Gideon as they dressed. It was one thing to try on costumes in privacy, quite another to appear in front of other people, especially her friends, masquerading as one of history’s most glamorous women. And at her age!

  “Ready?” Gideon stepped out of the bathroom, adjusting his armor.

  Alice wore a gold lamé tunic, cut low. A heavy half-circle collar of faux gold and turquoise gleamed against her chest. On her head was a wig of hundreds of beaded tight black braids that made tantalizing clicks as she moved. Set in the wig was a gold crown centered with an asp. Snake bracelets wound up her bare arms. On her feet she wore jeweled sandals, and just above, her ankle bracelet. She’d painted her toenails gold.

  Gideon wore a white tunic that ended just above his knee. Leather straps of Roman sandals wrapped all the way up his calves, exposing his sturdy, masculine legs. Over his chest he wore a light, metallic shield. A red cape hung from his shoulders. A gold laurel wreath circled his head.

  “Alice, I swear, you make a dynamite Cleopatra.”

  “Thanks. You’re a pretty snazzy Antony.”

  “I like your wig and the headpiece.” As Gideon spoke, he brushed his fingers against her neck. The beaded braids whispered. “And the eye makeup, well, it suits you, Alice.”

  She’d borrowed a book from the library and copied the long, slanted black lines that exaggerated the size and shape of her eyes. “Thanks, Gideon.” She leaned against him, studying their reflections in the mirror. “But you know, I’ve learned something. I’m glad I live now, even as a humble wage-earner, rather than back then, even as queen.”

  Gideon grinned. “Because we’ve got movies, air-conditioning, and chocolate?”

  “Well, yes, but also because we’ve got deodorant, soap, and antibiotics. Did you know, Gideon, in centuries past, people used to have wigs for their pubic hair? Called merkins. Because people had to shave off their hair because of lice, or lost it because of syphilis.”

  Gideon shuddered. “You know the strangest things.”

  “Marilyn told me.” Alice accepted his embrace, her hair clicking, her tunic whispering as she moved. Wrapping her arms around him, she leaned her head against his chest. “And remember, Cleopatra lived only thirty-nine years.” She hugged her sturdy, stocky friend and lover. “Plus, she never knew you.”

  Gideon tightened his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. “Alice. What a very nice thing to say!”

  22

  “THIS WAS A BRILLIANT IDEA!” QUEEN GUINEVERE told Zelda Fitzgerald as they stood side by side in Faye’s living room, holding cups of mulled apple cider spiced with cinnamon and cloves and just a soupçon of rum.

  “Thanks.” Faye surveyed her party with pleasure. “Too bad Marilyn’s not here.”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Polly said. “I’m pretty sure Marilyn is quite happy to be in Scotland with Ian.”

  Lucille Ball swept up to them, a cup of alcohol-free cider in her hand. “Faye, this is so much fun! And thanks for inviting the board members of The Haven.”

  “I’m delighted to do it,” Faye told Shirley. “I’d like to get to know some of them better. Like old Nora Salter. She’s so cool, coming as Agatha Christie.”

  Polly leaned in to say, sotto voce, “Look at her over there on the sofa, head to head with Madame Curie. I’d love to know what they’re talking about.”

  Faye grinned. “It’s a good bet they’re not discussing their bunions.”

  “I had a hard time deciding who I wanted to be,” Shirley confessed. “If you want to know the pathetic truth, I wanted to come as Cinderella. I’ve always wanted to be Cinderella . . . in her ball gown, not in her apron days! But since I’m Prince Charming–less, I settled on Lucille Ball.”

  “You won’t be Prince Charming–less long,” Faye predicted.

  “I’m not so sure about that,” Shirley told her, adding, “Now that I’m single, I can really empathize with you, Faye. You were so brave, dating all those men we forced you to go out with last year. We thought we were doing the right thing.”

  “You probably were doing the right thing,” Faye admitted. “I needed to have a few starter boyfriends. It helped me realize a bad date wasn’t the end of the world, and it certainly made me appreciate Aubrey!”

  “I see that his daughter and her husband are here.” Shirley turned slightly, and kept her voice low. “That’s good, right?”

  “Oh, absolutely. She’s got to see how much of a couple Polly and Hugh are—”

  “Queen Guinevere and King Arthur!” Polly, who had overheard them, made a little curtsy. “And you and Aubrey are F. Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald. So different!”

  “The Fitzgeralds were Aubrey’s idea,” Faye informed them. “He wanted to get his father’s old tux out of the closet. And Polly helped me pull together this flapper costume. I must say I love the way it skims my waist, and shows off my legs. And all the long ropes of pearls camouflage my stomach.”

  “You look smashing,” Polly told her.

  “Well, I probably look more like Eleanor Roosevelt than Zelda Fitzgerald, but it’s still fun to dress up.”

  Shirley adjusted a button earring pinching her ear. “I think you both have your hands full, trying to have your way against Carolyn’s wishes.”

  The three women nodded ruefully. Carolyn had come as Superwoman, her husband as Superman.

  “What are you three gossiping about?” Cleopatra swept up to them.

  “Geez Louise!” Shirley exclaimed. “You look like a million dollars, Alice.”

  “It’s true,” Faye agreed. “You make a gorgeous Cle
opatra.”

  “Yeah, and you’re absolutely radiant!” Polly gushed.

  Jennifer and Alan approached. Because Jennifer wasn’t feeling terribly energetic these days, they hadn’t given much thought to their Halloween personae but simply cut holes in white sheets, made halos of aluminum foil, and came as angels. Now Alan had a supporting arm around Jennifer’s waist.

  “This is a great party, but we’re going to leave,” Alan said.

  Alice’s eyes flew to Jennifer. “Are you all right?”

  Jennifer looked embarrassed. “Oh, I’m fine, really. I just have a bit of a headache.” Turning to Faye, she said, “Your party is wonderful, Faye. So clever. And the food’s delicious.”

  “Thanks.” Faye looked concerned. “I hope you’re not coming down with a flu.”

  Alice put a gentle hand on Jennifer’s forehead. “You don’t feel like you have a temperature.”

  Jennifer’s halo slipped down over one ear. “Oh, I’m fine, I’m sure. It’s just this headache, and I’m having a little problem with swollen ankles.”

  “Have you mentioned this to your doctor?” Alice asked.

  “Oh, sure. It’s all right. I’ll be better when I lie down.” Jennifer waved her hand dismissively.

  “Elevate your feet,” Faye and Polly simultaneously advised.

  “And Alan,” Alice said to her son, “you wait on her hand and foot, okay?”

  Alan made a comic bow. “Absolutely.”

  All four women walked Alan and Jennifer to the door. They stood on the porch, waving good-bye, so they were all together when an old truck pulled up and Polly’s son David and his wife Amy stepped out.

  “Amy! David!” Polly was over the moon. She didn’t think they’d actually deign to come. “How wonderful to see you both!” She introduced her friends to her son and his wife.

  Faye smiled invitingly. “Let me show you both to the drinks table. We’ve got spiked apple cider, and plain cider, too. And let me guess who you are—”

  “Ma and Pa Kettle?” Alice’s eyes glinted mischievously. “The Beverly Hillbillies?”

  “No!” Amy’s mouth pursed with displeasure. “We’re Charles and Caroline Ingalls!”

  Polly looked puzzled. “Um . . .”

  “From Little House on the Prairie!” Amy looked offended.

  “Of course!” Faye rushed to appease the stern younger woman. “That would have been my first guess! I’m so glad you came. How is little Jehoshaphat?”

  Polly took a deep breath. Faye’s question was perfect. Amy and David both lit up like lamps, chatting away as fast as they could, describing their son’s latest prodigal achievements.

  Finally their conversation ran down and they just stood there, holding glasses of alcohol-free cider, looking slightly puzzled and not particularly interested in their surroundings.

  “Come meet Teddy and his wife, Lila,” Alice invited, in a fit of inspiration. “They have a little girl about your son’s age.” Linking arms with Amy and David, she led them into the living room, making a funny face over her shoulder at Polly, Faye, and Shirley.

  Beautiful Lila had come as the gorgeous seductress Delilah, with a slinky, revealing gown, bracelets high on her arms, and heavy makeup. Teddy wore a shield, white tunic, and leather thongs. He’d pulled a bare wig on over his own thinning hair in order to look like Samson after he was shorn, and the result was surprisingly attractive. Together, he and his wife looked exotic and sexy.

  “Maybe introducing them isn’t such a good idea,” Polly murmured. “Amy is such a little prig, and Lila looks so sensual.”

  “Wait and see,” Faye soothed Polly.

  “And don’t expect a great friendship to develop,” added Shirley, who was feeling rather pessimistic these days. “They couldn’t be more different.”

  Polly helped herself to another cup of spiked cider. “Amy is so damned pure. She’ll think gorgeous Lila looks like a harlot, and probably drag poor David from the party.”

  “You’re wrong!” Faye whispered to Polly. “Turn around! Look!”

  Polly obeyed. The wholesome farm couple and the glamorous biblical lovers were retrieving photos from pockets and purses, passing them around, babbling and bonding as they shared pictures and anecdotes about their children.

  Alice returned to fill her own glass of cider. “Well, Faye,” she grinned, “I think we can safely say this party is officially a success.” Her eyes dropped. “Although I am a little worried about Jennifer.”

  “She’ll be fine,” Faye assured her.

  “I hope so,” Alice said fervently.

  THANKSGIVING

  23

  THE AFTERNOON SKY LOOMED LOW AND GRAY, THREATENING rain. As Alice and Gideon drove along the winding country road, a cold, intermittent wind flickered and gusted, making the fallen leaves heaped in the gutters suddenly skitter and jump like small, darting creatures. Tree boughs, bare and brittle, clattered and dipped toward the car like the animated trees in The Wizard of Oz.

  It made Alice’s nerves itch. She was cranky, when she knew she should be grateful. Damn it, she was grateful. She counted her blessings every night as she fell asleep, and reminded herself of them during the day, every day.

  First, her sons were happy. Steven, down in Texas, communicated with her more than ever now that e-mail existed, and in January, Alice and Gideon both were going to visit Steven’s family, which she hadn’t done in years.

  And Alan—well! Alan loved running the bakery and catering service—something Alice had never dreamed he would do, although given how much she loved food, why was she so surprised? And she had to admit, Alan was in love with his wife, and Jennifer obviously loved him deeply. They had only one more month to wait for the birth of their child—and here Alice’s breath caught in her throat.

  Jennifer had been diagnosed with preeclampsia and ordered to remain in bed for the rest of her pregnancy, which was why Alan was cooking the turkey but Gideon and Alice were bringing most of the Thanksgiving dinner out to the caretaker’s cottage at The Haven. Alice had researched preeclampsia on the Internet, and what she’d learned had terrified her. It was a serious condition involving high blood pressure, protein in the urine, water retention, headaches, severe nausea, rapid heartbeat, and other uncomfortable and life-threatening problems. The child could die—or the mother.

  Dear God, please let Jennifer and the baby be okay, Alice prayed. It was so frustrating for Alice not to be able to do something, to fix this problem, to take charge! That was what she’d done all her life both at home and professionally, but now she was utterly helpless. And it was driving her totally nuts!

  She felt her heartbeat accelerate. Damn it! Deep breaths, she reminded herself. Deep, deep breaths. Shirley had said to breathe right down to her asshole. And think positive thoughts.

  All right then. Well, she was healthy, more or less, as long as she took her medicine and exercised regularly and watched what she ate, although the thought of limiting caloric intake during Thanksgiving and Christmas seemed to her like some kind of sadistic joke. Go back to the Gratitude List, she told herself.

  Well—Gideon! This burly, sweet man driving the car was a wonderful companion, friend, and lover. They had great fun together, playing bridge, attending movies and the symphony, or just lounging around the apartment, reading, listening to music, watching TV. And his health was good these days.

  And her friends were amazing. She’d never had such close friends since her school days. She loved the sense of belonging to a group, especially this group, which made her laugh and kept her involved with the real world. She’d been afraid of retirement, fearing she’d feel useless, but with them she had more than enough work to do. She was on the board of The Haven, plus she’d helped get the business side of Havenly Yours set up, although she’d refused to take on the full-time job of bookkeeper.

  Now she thought perhaps that had been a mistake. Because with all the richness in her life, Alice still felt a kind of gap, something not sharp enough to
be called pain, something more like a sense of longing. She didn’t feel complete yet. And she had felt complete for great hunks of her life, especially when she was working and raising her sons. But work and intellectual stimulation didn’t fill that void these days; she’d given it her all, and still, even when immersed in calculations for some budget, she’d raise her head from her computer and gaze at the sun on the windowsill, and sit very still, almost listening, as if she’d just heard someone whisper her name.

  “Alice?” Now Gideon actually did call her name, tugging her back into the present. “We’re here.” He undid his seat belt and peered at her. “Are you okay?”

  “Oh, I’m fine. Just daydreaming.” Impulsively, she leaned over and kissed his mouth. “I love you, Gideon.”

  “And I love you, Alice,” Gideon replied with a smile, “but at the moment it’s the aroma of the pumpkin pie that’s making me drool.”

  “Fickle!” Alice scolded playfully. “Okay, let’s go eat.”

  Alan came out of the house, hugged his mother, shook hands with Gideon, and helped them carry in the casseroles and pans.

  Alice set the large, wooden salad bowl on the kitchen counter. Without taking off her coat, she hurried into the living room to see Jennifer, who reclined on the sofa in loose pants and one of the Havenly Yours jackets Alice had given her.

  “Hello, honey.” Alice bent down to kiss Jennifer’s cheek. “You look beautiful!” But Jennifer’s face was far too flushed, and she clearly was uncomfortable. “How do you feel?” She perched on the coffee table so she could take her daughter-in-law’s hand. “Tell me true.”

  Jennifer smiled. “I’m glad to see you, Alice. Poor Alan’s so worried, he’s buzzing around me like a drunk mosquito. With you here, he’ll calm down.”

  Alice cocked her head. “I’m sure he will. But you didn’t answer my question. How are you?”

  Jennifer’s face grew serious. “I’m okay, I think. It’s best if I just lie here, not moving, but that makes me feel like such a wimp. But if I try to do anything, the nausea and headaches start up again.”