by Lee, Terry
“Yeah. My buddy across the street…nice high school kid…hauled the wood down to the beach. I’ve got some blankets, and we’ll need the ice chest.”
“Ya think?” Dena shot a show-stopping smile to Janie and headed back out to the deck, a full pitcher of frozen beverage in her hand.
~~~
Chicken a la Dena had been a hit, as usual. During dinner Suzanne prompted Regina to tell the group about the assignment she’d be facing next week.
“Wait till you hear this.” Suzanne helped herself to another piece of garlic bread. “Go on, tell ‘em.”
Never one to shy away from being the center of attention, Regina now seemed more than hesitant. Very un-Regina-like. Her eyes met Allison’s, who gave her a nod. One of her facial muscles twitched, obviously one not permanently Botoxed. Regina started slowly, also unusual for the give-me-a-camera-anytime woman, but gained momentum.
“So, I’ll be interviewing the woman after the presentation.” Regina dabbed her lips, a totally unnecessary maneuver since they were permanently tinted.
“And she’s your apartment manager?” Janie had reached her limit for garlic bread, which mentally translated into room for more. “That is so cool.” She felt the beginning of a change in their friendship. Or maybe after all these years, a friendship was exactly what was developing.
“Yeah, far out,” said Piper, the woman of few words, but with the biggest presence.
Regina conveniently deleted the debacle about the relationship with Viola Middleton. Allison and Suzanne exchanged looks of agreement to keep their silence.
“You never mentioned.” Frannie stood to take her plate and silverware to the sink. “Are you married?”
Flipping her shoulder length hair, Regina cleared her throat. “Ah, yeah. Well, no. Not at the moment.”
Her words brought everyone’s attention front and center. Although highly uncomfortable, noted by her foot wildly shaking under the table, she took a deep breath and found her on-camera smile. “Marriage doesn’t suit me. Tried it twice though. Men just seem so…insecure with a wife in the spotlight.”
“Any…kids?” Dena tapped a red fingernail against red lips.
Silence moved around the room, although exchanged eye contacts flew. Somehow the group sensed Regina had just jumped—or had she been pushed?—into the deep end of a pool that had no bottom.
“Ah…no.” Her usual rigid posture sunk back into the kitchen chair. “Raising a child with my kind of career just wouldn’t be feasible.”
More silence zipped around the room, pinging off the walls.
“Okay!” Dena rose and grabbed the empty casserole dishes. “Let’s get this cleaned up so we can head to the beach.”
Chapter 23
Saturday Night, The Beach - 1992
An hour later, with dishes completed, clothes changed, flip flops on, and two vehicles packed, they made the short mile drive to their destination. Unlike Galveston, cars were actually allowed on the beach. If the sand was dry, four-wheel drive vehicles were a way of assuring you’d not only get down to the beach, but would be able to make your way back to the paved roads without a tow. Janie drove the Jeep that stayed in the garage at the bay house, and Dena took her four-wheel drive SUV.
Quite a few beach lovers, obviously there all day, still had canopies in place and small grills fired up for dinner. Sunset, a mere hour away, was a time of day relished by many beachgoers. Some had fishing lines out, poles anchored by PVC pipes driven into the sand. Many kite boarders could be spotted flying across the water.
The Corpus Christi/North Padre Island area had long been a prime destination spot for both wind surfers and kite boarders due to the steady 10–15 mph winds. Wind surfers have a sail actually attached to the board, while a kite boarder is pulled across the water by an arc-shaped kite high above with chords anchored to the board.
Before lighting the fire, the women spread out a couple of blankets and low to the ground beach chairs, and situated two ice chests in the sand.
“I wanna take a walk down the beach.” Allison slipped out of her flip flops and pulled an Astros baseball cap on her head, threading her blonde mane through the hole in the back. “Anyone wanna come?”
Regina and Piper spoke at the same time. “I’ll go.”
There wasn’t one of the seven, with the exception of Piper, that saw that group as just weird. Piper followed Allison’s lead and left her flip flops by her chair and milk jug. Obvious to the casual observer, Regina showed no signs of walking down the beach without something protecting her feet.
“Here, take these.” Janie fished through a mesh beach tote and handed over two bags, one zip-lock and the other grocery. “If you find any sea glass put it in the zipped bag. The other is for trash.” She scrunched up her nose and smiled, showing her freckles and dimples. “I’m a sucker for sea glass. And, well…trash on the beach is just—”
“Unacceptable.” Allison grabbed the bags. “We used to come here when I was little. I learned that lesson a long time ago. My dad used to say if everyone picked up their trash plus one more, we’d be living in a much cleaner place.”
“I like that.” Dena had settled herself in a beach chair with a glass of wine, her boxed supply nearby. “Go forth ladies. Find treasures.”
~~~
“I used to take long walks along the beach.” Allison picked up a shell for inspection. “Always looked for sand dollars or sea beans.” She tossed the shell into the water. “Hard to find sand dollars intact…they’re pretty fragile. The tide beats them up. And sea beans are just dang rare.”
“Man, what’s a sea bean?” Piper lit a cigarette. “I don’t know much about the beach. Not one close to Fort Worth.”
“Or Tyler.” Regina’s flip flops created suction on the wet sand. She moved back a few steps to the drier, yet grittier, beach surface. “In fact, living in Houston, I’ve only been to Galveston a couple of times. Doesn’t this sand bother you? I mean, it gets into everything.” She flung out her hands, as if already disgusted with the feel between her fingers. “I even feel it in my mouth.”
Allison pulled in a deep breath. “There’s a soul connection between people and the water.” She turned an amused face toward Regina and raised her eyebrows. “Some just don’t feel it, though.”
“I guess that would be me.” Regina showed no intention of picking anything out of the sand…treasure or trash.
“So, what’s a sea bean?” Piper flipped the remains of her cigarette into the water.
“Ah…no.” Allison pointed to where the cigarette had landed.
“Hey, isn’t that biodegradable or some shit like that?” Piper rolled up the hem of her ripped jeans and waded out.
“Not the filter.” Allison held open the trash bag. “Even if it was, that’s not the point. It’s called honoring the land.”
“Honoring the land.” Piper’s brows came together as if giving the phrase some serious thought, and then she nodded. “Yeah…I get it. So, what’s a sea bean?”
Regina leaned toward Allison and whispered, “She’s staying on topic.”
“It’s just a hollow bean, looks like a fat lima, but brown. Sometimes it’s heart-shaped. Supposed to be good luck.” Allison smiled. “I always made a wish when I found one.”
“Cool.” Piper still wore her yellow Aviators though the sun had dipped behind some clouds near the horizon, shooting shards of purple and pink across the sky.
Picking up a piece of green glass, Allison washed it off before depositing the small treasure in the zip lock. “Piper, how are you doing these days? Besides meeting those couple of times in Madisonville, we haven’t talked much. Are you still working at that bookstore?”
“Is that where you met? Madisonville?” Regina slipped hands in her pockets to prevent any further grittiness. “To get the pot?”
“Yeah and yeah.” Although the same age as the rest of the BAGs, Piper still walked with that same sexy, butt-swaying motion she’d had in college. The wild blon
de hair and yellow Aviators only added to the looks coming her way.
“It’s about halfway for both of us.” Allison cleaned off another small piece of glass.
“Weren’t you concerned about—?”
“Getting caught? Transporting an illegal substance?” Allison cocked her head toward Regina, then gave it a shake. “Never thought about it...of course, we thought about it!”
A flush crept across Regina’s face despite the warm breeze. “That was a stupid question. What you two did was very brave. I only hope someone would do the same for me.”
“We are the Bad-Ass-Girls, may I remind you.” Allison picked up a plastic soda bottle and a smashed beer can. “God, I hate litter.”
“Yeah, but I haven’t been….” Regina’s words whisked away with the early evening breeze.
“Been what?” Allison asked.
The woman who never lacked for conversation, especially about herself, seemed to be experiencing dead air time. “Nice,” was the only word that escaped her lips. She removed a hand from her pocket and lightly rubbed a finger across her upper lip. Her head down, she continued walking. When she raised her eyes and realized she was alone, she whipped around.
Allison’s hands framed her face like she held a camera. Piper’s arms were folded across her inflated chest, accentuating her overly inflated lips and silly girlish grin.
“What?” The whole scenario took a hike right over Regina’s head.
“It’s a Kodak moment. Hold still.” Allison clicked her imaginary camera.
“Are you making fun of me?” Regina’s tone hovered between a flair for the dramatic and hurt feelings.
Piper moved up to Regina, linked arms, and steered her back toward Allison. “No man, that’s just cool. That’s just really cool.”
“That I’m not nice?” Regina attempted to pull away, but Piper yanked her forward.
“No dude, because you admitted it!” Piper pulled Regina against her a bit tighter.
Allison tapped a closed fist against her heart and raised her eyes straight up. “Thank goodness! We’re having a moment. About damn time, if you ask me.”
“We are?” Regina looked as confused as if she’d just landed in a foreign country and realized she had the wrong translation handbook.
“We….” Allison used a finger to draw a circle. “All of us…are the Bad-Ass-Girls. We….” Another circle for emphasis. “Stick together. That’s what we do. Remember our song?”
“Not that Whore Corp thing, is it?” Regina asked. Piper looked like she also waited for an answer.
Allison reached over and thumped Regina on the side of the head. “No, you goofball. The other one…‘You’ve Got A Friend.’”
“Hey, watch the hair.” Regina ran a hand down over the thumped area, smoothing anything that might be out of place. The other two couldn’t contain their laughter.
They walked a bit further down the beach, the first stars barely visible. The volume of the churning waves and the seagulls cawing overhead cranked up a notch, silencing the three of them after Regina’s “moment.” The somewhat awkward quiet eased into something more peaceful. They took in their surroundings and the slowing down of the day.
Piper lit another cigarette. “I had a daughter.” She kept her pace down the beach. This time Allison and Regina slammed to a halt. Piper stopped and turned.
Allison found her voice first. “You…had…a daughter?”
“Yeah.” Piper took a drag from her cigarette. “Well, have…I mean, she’s still alive. Gave her up for adoption though.”
“When?” Either Regina finally found her voice, or had just thought of something to say.
“Uh…around ‘79, I think.”
Around ’79, she thinks. Allison struggled to find the right words. “Do you ever, um...was it an open adoption?”
Dipping the tip of her cigarette in the water, she tossed the butt into Allison’s trash bag. “Nah, my stepmother took care of it. She told me someone through the church would handle the situation.” Piper air-quoted the word situation.
Something jarred Allison’s memory about Piper’s stepmother, something Janie had told her a long time ago.
“Did you get to name her?” Regina asked.
Allison nudged Regina in the ribs, shooting her a watch-what-you-say look.
Piper pushed the Aviators to the top of her head and shoved her hands in her pockets. “Jess. I named her Jess.”
“For Jessica, right?” Regina narrowed her eyes.
“No…just Jess.” They walked a while in silence. “Actually, that’s a lie.”
“What, her name?” Regina face registered a blank stare. People with less cosmetic freezing of their facial expressions would most likely have looked confused.
Piper’s voice thickened. “About seeing her.”
“I’m confused. You—”
Allison patted Regina’s arm, signaling silence.
“Yep, used to watch her on the playground at this daycare. Even got a job there, just to be close to her.” Piper’s eyes softened. “She looked like a little me…only happier.” She fluffed the back of her blonde waves with her hand. “But I screwed that up too.”
“What happened?” Allison asked.
“Oh, one day I got the bright idea I’d take her. You know, raise her myself.” The pain in Piper’s laugh was apparent. “Big mistake. Took her to my apartment. Barely made it through the door before I realized I couldn’t raise her, even if she was mine. I had nothing.”
“What did you do?” Regina asked, true compassion registered on her face.
“I took her back to the daycare.” Piper didn’t attempt to wipe away the tear sliding down her cheek. “Of course, they fired me. Said they wouldn’t file charges if I never showed up there again.” She stared straight ahead. “And if I did, they’d do something even worse...they’d tell my stepmother.” She turned to face the two women. “Did I mention she owned the daycare?”
The three women stopped and faced the ocean. The water that had no beginning or end.
“C’mon,” Allison motioned. “We’d better head back.” The three fell into step.
The bonfire had been lit, the leaping flames steering the silent three back to the group.
Chapter 24
The Bonfire and End of the Weekend - 1992
“Did you find some glass?” Janie held a blackened marshmallow on a stick in one hand, a Solo cup filled with tequila mixture in the other.
“Not much. More trash than anything.” Allison plopped down on one of the blankets. “Man, I’d forgotten how nice it is down here.” She pulled the container of margaritas from the ice chest and filled a cup. Piper grabbed a beach chair and her gallon milk jug.
“That’s right.” Janie popped the black gooey mush in her mouth. “Your mom’s not in Corpus anymore, is she?”
“No.” Allison rubbed the back of her neck. “After my dad died she moved to Houston.”
“How’s she doing?” Janie’s arm shoved into the bag of marshmallows once again.
Wedging her Solo cup in the sand, Allison locked her arms behind her and leaned back. She viewed the night sky and spotted the beginnings of a new moon. “You know…we haven’t covered everyone’s current status yet, but…what if…just for tonight, we keep it light. We’ve still got tomorrow.”
“I hear ya on that,” Janie seconded, obviously still not anxious to jump into her marriage debacle.
“Yeah, this night is about Denise and our days at Sam.” Frannie sat up in her chair to make a point. “Right?”
“Absolutely.” Dena raised her cup of wine. “To Denise and the Bad-Ass-Girls.”
The group agreed. Suzanne even ventured back into the margaritas. Everyone settled in to enjoy the bonfire, the night at the beach with their rhinestone flip flops, adult beverages, their memories, and how very traumatic they’d seen life back in those days.
“Remember when Denise got us all hooked on soap operas? Days of Our Lives and….” Frannie held up
her index finger.
“All My Children!” Suzanne inched up to the front of her beach chair.
“You can turn it on today and still know what’s going on.” Allison pulled out precut squares of cheddar cheese and opened a bag of pretzels. “Only thing that changes is Erica’s husbands. A Pine Valley divorce attorney would have it made in that place.”
“Oh, I always wanted to be Erica Kane.” Regina’s eye took on a glassy fairytale look.
“Why does that not surprise me?” Dena balanced the box of wine on her lap for a refill. “Actually, you could be her, except you’d have to step up the marriage to divorce ratio thing.”
Regina ignored Dena and shook her head. “All those years and never an Emmy. Such a shame.”
“I remember skipping lunch sometimes just so we could run to the TV room on the main floor.” Suzanne’s eyes sparkled in the light from the fire.
“You missed cafeteria food for a soap opera?” Dena lifted a single eyebrow. “What a fucking shame.”
“Yeah, Dena would pay our way if we’d go eat with her,” Janie said. “Frannie, remember that?”
“Of course.” Frannie ran fingers through her hair and shot Dena a wink. “Not only was she the one with a checking account, she was v-e-r-y generous. We often enjoyed the fine dining in Huntsville back then.”
“Hey, anyone remember the Streak of Lightning?” Piper popped the cap on the gallon milk jug.
In 1974, a gathering of students, nicknamed the bare-kats, had assembled and raced naked across campus. The Houstonian, Sam Houston’s school paper, titled the article “A Streak of Lightning.” Thousands were involved, although many were onlookers. Seven arrests were made. The Houstonian reported the following:
“The bare facts are that a few streakers will be arrested while the majority goes scot-free.”
The University police chief had said, “It’s like fishing—we can just catch so many.”
Dena passed Piper a Solo cup so she wouldn’t drink from the gallon jug. “Unless you’d prefer a straw?” She gave Piper a wink. “Yeah, I remember hearing about the streakers. I was already over at A&M. Hey, were you part of that?”
