Time Trials

by Lee, Terry

  “Me too. This is fascinating!”

  Janie wondered if the “fascinating” was because they both had voices in their heads who actually gave logical advice, or the fact they were having a normal conversation. She figured it could go either way.

  “I really thought I was the only one on earth who could hear a voice in my head. Sometimes she can be a real bitch.” Regina headed back to the refrigerator. “Do you have any parsley?”

  “Okay, who’s the paranoid-schizophrenic hearing voices in their head? Don’t be shy, speak up.” Allison padded into the kitchen. She’d already changed into some stretch exercise pants and a flowing Mexican-designed beach cover up, her blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail.

  Janie and Regina exchanged a quiet nod, which translated into agreeing not to divulge their discussion. At that moment they shared a secret, and having a secret, even a small one, created a bond. Something the two of them had never had.

  “Coffee’s ready.” Janie offered Allison a smile, and said a silent thank you for not being the only one not wearing makeup at such an ungodly hour. Arranging mugs on the counter with the needed condiments, she checked the water in the tea kettle for Suzanne’s herbal tea and anyone else who might need something less acidic than coffee. The first night was always fun…until the first morning.

  “Parsley? I need parsley, if at all possible,” Regina repeated.

  “Yeah, I think so.” Janie wondered why on earth anyone would want, much less need, parsley on a Saturday morning. Especially after a night of ingesting enough alcohol to easily torch tonight’s bonfire. She glanced at Allison, who had her eyes on Regina.

  “What’s with the parsley?” Allison took her first sip of coffee.

  “For water retention, of course.” Regina had found the bagged fresh parsley and pulled off four or five stems. “You make a tea. Then you drink three or four cups a day. You know, Whole Foods even has parsley tea bags.”

  “You don’t say.” Janie ran her hand over her rounded backside and wondered how many parsley tea bags would be needed to drop forty pounds.

  Allison seemed to catch on to Janie’s thought process and gave her a wink. “Good to know, Regina.”

  The rest of the women straggled into the kitchen, some in better shape than others. Piper, however, still remained face down on the couch.

  “I held a Kleenex under her nose…she’s still breathing.” Dena filled a mug of the Texas brew and grabbed a sausage kolache. “These from Prasek’s?”

  Having put the good stuff out as a joke, Janie should have known better with Dena around. The woman could hold her liquor. And with such class.

  “Of course.” Janie pulled English muffins out of the oven just as the toaster popped up the first batch of bagels.

  The group gathered around the kitchen table, the bottle of Tylenol the centerpiece. Piper finally appeared and didn’t look much different than when she had blown through the door the day before.

  “Hey man, I gotta pee.” Piper rubbed the side of her head. “My bladder is about to bust.”

  “Bathroom’s right down…oh my gosh!” Janie, suddenly seeing potential disaster puddled on the kitchen floor, hurled herself up. “Never mind, I’ll show you.” She glanced back at the group sitting around the table with a yikes look, then led the platinum blonde tattooed disaster to the hall bathroom.

  “Not a good sign.” Dena poured a second cup of coffee and grabbed a glass of water. “Unless she peed in her pants, I could have sworn she used the bathroom yesterday. Now she can’t remember the route.”

  Janie reappeared and hoped Piper wouldn’t require further assistance. She sat back down and shook her head, trying to think of something non-judgmental to say. Nothing came to mind. “Man,” she muttered.

  “I drank too much last night.” After popping three Tylenol into her mouth and washing them down with her water, Dena pointed one of her famous red fingernails at the BAGs. “That’s the problem with fucking boxed wine. You never know how much you’ve had till you have a fucking floater.”

  “And that’s your first clue?” Allison shook her head and smiled. “Pass that bottle over.”

  Janie noticed Suzanne had remained quieter than usual, her eyes focused on bobbing the herbal tea bag around in her mug. She had dressed in beige pressed linen cropped pants with an equally impressive expensive blouse. Between her and Regina, they could have passed for models in a Saks Fifth Avenue ad.

  “I want to apologize.” Kleenex clinched in her hand, Suzanne continued. “I’m usually so composed, and I actually yelled. I did. I yelled, and I never raise my voice. I think I said some horrible things.”

  The BAGs sitting around the table took Allison’s cue from last night and stayed quiet, not rushing in to rescue their fragile friend. Janie felt relief seeing Piper pad back in. She slumped into the nearest chair and thunked her head on the table.

  “You did just fine.” Frannie brought the bagels and English muffins over to the table. “I think it did you good to get riled up. You know, let off a little steam.”

  “But I never do that.” Suzanne bit her lip.

  “So?” Dena went after more kolaches. “You do remember how far back we all go, don’t you? This prim and proper shit came…hell, I don’t know when it came. How did this all get started, anyway? You were always quiet, but we used to get you to let your hair down once in a while.” She returned with several of the pastry-coated sausages on a plate. “What happened?”

  Frannie closed her eyes and pushed the plate in another direction.

  “No kolaches this morning, dear?” Dena teased.

  “Uh…no.” Frannie’s weak smile revealed the condition of her stomach as she continued. “Yeah, Suzanne, tell us about your life. You know…kids, husbands, affairs, that kind of stuff.” The crack about affairs and the mischievous smile inching across Frannie’s face must have surfaced once the sausage kolaches were well out of range.

  “Affairs?” Suzanne’s hand held onto her throat like she’d just swallowed an orange. “Oh, heavens no. I can barely even….” She cleared her throat, but didn’t continue.

  All heads leaned in.

  “You can barely what?” Janie had consumed a couple of bagels topped with cream cheese, and washed them down with a large glass of orange juice.

  Suzanne’s face turned the color of a finger after being wound tightly with a piece of thread. “Well…I...uh….” She gulped her herbal tea.

  Piper’s hoarse voice emerged beneath the mass of tangled hair that covered her face, which was still resting on the table top. “Just say it, Suzanne. You can’t be naked in front of your man, right?”

  All eyes switched back to the herbal woman in beige who looked like she’d passed embarrassed about ten minutes ago. Her face cringed in a guilty sort of half-smile. “Is that bad? I mean…I’m just so….”

  “Modest.” Janie felt the need to rescue poor Suzanne. Hell, she’d hate to think how Matt would describe her naked. “You’re just modest. Stephen, that’s your husband’s name, isn’t it? What does he do?”

  “He’s a very well-known plastic surgeon down in the Medical Center. He’s worked on all sorts of celeb….” Suzanne’s large brown eyes surveyed the group. Only Regina seemed in the least bit interested. She stopped and switched subjects. “We’ve got two girls at St. John’s, and I….” She stopped again. “I’ve got a lot of responsibilities, you know, with Stephen in his position.”

  “Isn’t St. John’s that really exclusive private school? The one off Westheimer?” Janie had heard the school only took a certain number of kids each year, and annual school rates were comparable with college tuitions. “Wow, you weren’t kidding about the gardener, or that Junior League stuff, were you?”

  Suzanne’s less than enthusiastic smile slipped by no one.

  Allison gathered up plates and headed to the kitchen. “Are you happy, Suzanne? I mean, all that’s great and everything, but you’ve kinda lost your smile.”

  “I am, I really am.
” Suzanne answered way too fast to convince anyone in the room. “It’s just so…time-consuming. Last year our home was selected for the Azalea Trail, and my goodness, was that an ordeal. Having people roaming through your house. It’s an honor and everything, but I was exhausted. And Stephen…well, he wasn’t happy about strangers being in his…our home.”

  Janie, Frannie, and Dena exchanged raised eyebrows. Suzanne’s family was part of the very elite class of hob-knobs in Houston. Allison obviously knew all this since she’d periodically kept in touch with Suzanne. Regina remained unmoved, examining one of her manicured nails. Piper raised her head, only to keep it up by propping an arm under her chin. “So you live in freakin’ River Oaks? Man, what are you, a gazillionaire or something?”

  “Oh no, nothing like that. I mean we…well, we do have money, but not a gazillion or anything.”

  “Man, whatever. That’s still a freakin’ load of money.” Piper, like Dena, had not lost her special use of the English language.

  Chapter 22

  Saturday Afternoon, North Padre Island - 1992

  After changing into clothes equally as comfortable as her Batman T-shirt and pajama bottoms, Janie grabbed her purse. “I’m heading across the bridge to pick up a few things. Anyone want to come?” Dena and Frannie were on their feet.

  “Hey, could you pick me up some milk?” Piper dug into the pocket of the torn jeans she still wore from yesterday and pulled out a five dollar bill.

  “For…more White Russians?” Janie mentally winced and made a note to make sure the milk mixture disappeared before Piper hit the road back to Houston tomorrow.

  “Yeah, I’ve still got plenty of the hard stuff.” Piper stood and walked to the framed mirror on the wall, studying the face reflected back as if she’d never met the woman before. “Damn, why didn’t anyone tell me I had raccoon eyes?” She didn’t wait for an answer, but grabbed a small pouch from her duffle bag and scooted off to the bathroom.

  “Well, what can I say but, bless her heart. At least she remembered how to get there this time.” Allison shook her head. “That girl is something else.”

  Janie grabbed her keys and purse. “Need anything? Anyone?”

  Suzanne, realizing she was the only person at the table except Regina, hopped to her feet and bolted over to Janie. “Could you get me some Contac ND…you know, the allergy medication? I forgot to bring mine and my allergies are acting up.”

  “Sure, no problem.” Janie accepted the twenty from Suzanne.

  “And not the regular Contac…that never works. Has to be Contac ND…has to.” Suzanne peered into Janie’s eyes. “Maybe I should go with you.”

  “C’mon, girlfriend.” Allison took Suzanne by the elbow and led her away. “I think Janie can figure it out.” She turned back to Janie and mouthed the words “hurry back.” “We’ll just stay here and…hang out.”

  The ride across the bridge filled the SUV with non-stop gab between Janie and Frannie.

  “Can you believe Suzanne lives in River Oaks?”

  “And Regina is just as charming as ever.” Frannie’s words dripped sarcasm.

  “And Piper. Holy shit! She scared the crap out of me yesterday.”

  “Did you see those tattoos?”

  “Can’t believe she made it. Should we let her drive home tomorrow?”

  “Do you think they’re talking about us?”

  “The four left behind? I doubt they’re talking at all.”

  Dena unbuckled her seatbelt from the back seat and grabbed Janie and Frannie around the nape of the neck. “Are you fucking kidding me? Listen to you two. We can’t get together and talk like this. What are we? Fifteen?” She sat back in her seat. “Damn!”

  The front seat volume quickly dropped to zero. A long moment passed.

  “You’re right.” Frannie turned in her seat to face Dena. “We should be supportive and more interested in each other’s lives, right?”

  “Yeah, I agree. I even had a real conversation with Regina this morning.” Janie pushed her sunglasses up higher on her nose and exited off South Padre Island Drive.

  “Really? What about?” Frannie asked, obviously trying to sound less teenager-ish.

  Scrunching her nose, Janie dodged the real answer about their “inner” friends and muttered something about the weather or some other benign subject. She adjusted the rearview mirror to be able to catch Dena’s face. “You gotta admit though, Piper’s tattoos are—”

  “Fucking hard to miss,” Dena said.

  The two in the front seat smiled.

  ~~~

  The rest of the day was spent lounging around, mostly on the deck except during the warmest part of the day. Food, of course, was plentiful, as was drink. Suzanne stayed with the non-alcoholic beverages, rotating between water and Diet Coke for the most part, while the others, with the exception of Piper and her White Russians, went through several batches of Janie’s famous limeade frozen margaritas.

  After Suzanne and her update about life in the society lane, Dena took a turn at filling the others in about what had gone on in her world over the last ten years. She had done more than well for herself, although those words would never come from her. The outcome, however, spoke for itself. Transferring to Texas A&M her junior year, she’d received a master’s degree in horticulture. She moved back to Houston and married a guy she’d been with for several years. Starting her own business, she specialized in creative event designs. The business took off, but her first marriage didn’t. A couple of years later she married Jim Stacey, a guy she’d met at one of the floral conventions. He was older than her, but not too old to agree to have kids. They now had two, Alex and Andrea, ages ten and eight.

  Since their marriage, the design company had become even more lucrative…hence the diamond tennis bracelet and the rock on her left hand. Two highly-talented design artists who worked well together made a winning combination. They landed contracts with The Houstonian, and both the Royal Oaks and Braeburn Country Clubs, to name a few. Each facility had contracts with several event coordinators, who sent the majority of their clients Dena’s way. Dena and Jim mutually decided they needed to hire someone from the outside to sit and discuss details with their clients. Jim was more of a hands-on type of guy, and Dena’s prolific use of the F-bomb, which could be dropped at any time, caused her to back away from the position. She was one classy lady…perfect hair, nails, and a wardrobe to die for, but her trash mouth…well, some things were just fucking hard to change.

  “You’re The Main Event? The Main Event?” Suzanne looked like she’d just learned Dena and Mother Teresa were first cousins. “All those arrangements? At the club each week? That’s your business?”

  “Royal Oaks? If that’s what you’re referring to, then yep, that’s me.” Dena seemed to be taken aback by Suzanne’s gushy enthusiasm.

  “And The Houstonian?” Suzanne appeared incapable of controlling her shock factor. “Oh, and the Junior League.” Light-hearted mischief danced around Dena’s eyes.

  That one almost knocked Suzanne off the deck recliner she’d stretched out on. “I…I don’t believe it!” In total shock, she eyed her friends. “Have you seen the work this woman does? It’s phenomenal! I mean, everyone is always raving about the floral designs. And to think they all came from you!”

  “You look so shocked,” Dena teased.

  Suzanne stood and moved to give Dena a hug. “Oh no, no, no! I’m ecstatic...you’re…you’re incredible!”

  Dena accepted Suzanne’s embrace and looked a bit embarrassed; obviously not something she handled well. “Okay, okay. You’re making me blush. Red is my favorite color, but not this much. I can’t take all the credit. I do have a team, and Jim is the real artist here. I couldn’t have done it without him.”

  “But the Junior League?” Suzanne acted like an energizer bunny who needed to have her batteries pulled.

  “Oh, yeah.” Dena used her nails to click the arm of the Adirondack chair where she sat sipping her frozen drink. “
The Junior League. Now those are some serious bitches.”

  The last remark succeeded in pushing the kill switch on the motor mouth bunny. “Oh, we’re not really….” Suzanne gazed at the lazy floating clouds overhead, like the rest of her thought could be pulled out of the sky. She rolled her neck. “Yeah, we are.” She aimed a warning finger at the other BAGs. “No one heard me say that, okay?”

  “Got it.” Janie nodded her head, happy to see Suzanne so animated after last night’s scene.

  “Totally got it.” Dena stood to refill drinks and exchanged smiles with Janie.

  “Hold up.” Janie hauled herself out of the deck chair. “I’ll go with you.”

  Back in the kitchen, the two women pulled two chicken casseroles from the refrigerator. Dena unwrapped loaves of French bread, sliced them horizontally, and slathered a butter-garlic mixture on each half. “Any more parsley, or do I have to sprinkle on parsley tea?”

  “I’ve got more.” Janie plunged her head back in the refrigerator to dig around for the spare green leafy bundle. She straightened up, her face flushed from cold, plus the bent over position. “I know my turn is coming up, but I don’t know if I’m ready to talk about my asshole husband.” Her smile resembled an inverted happy face.

  Dena wiped off her hands and gave Janie a hug. “We’re all friends here…well, most of us.”

  Janie had always admired so many things about Dena. Not only her beautiful smile, but her tenacity towards life and that dang personality. When her first marriage ended, she’d handled it far better than Janie would have. Her matter of fact “that’s life, let’s get on with it” attribute was and always had been one of her most admirable traits. Kinda negated the foul language issue. However, the more people got to know Dena, the less important the whole profanity thing became. It was simply part of her nature.

  “We all ready for tonight?” Dena rewrapped the loaves of French bread and lined them up alongside the casseroles.