Mavis chuckled. “Oh dear, Sophia, we are going to have so much fun. I can see it now. And who knows? Maybe one of us will meet the man of our dreams.” She sighed, a wistful look on her thin face. Coco chose that very moment to lick her chin, and Mavis embraced the little pooch tighter.
Sophie rolled her eyes, grabbed her pack of cigarettes, and headed for the screen door. Before going outside to smoke, she responded to Mavis’s musing. “I doubt that. Men in the modeling business are gay. Most of them. And I, for one, am not looking for a man. You either, right, Toots?”
Toots jerked to attention. She followed her friend to the small stoop without muttering a word. And once they were outside, she took the offered smoke Sophie held out for her. Placing it between her lips, she inhaled when the flame from Sophie’s lighter touched the tip of her cigarette. Then she took another deep puff.
“God, I don’t know if I can give these disgusting things up completely. There’s nothing like a good hit of nicotine after a meal. Maybe I’ll just smoke after I eat. I won’t tell Abby, either. She hates that we smoke. You know that, right?” Toots inhaled again. “And to answer your question, no. I am not ‘looking for a man.’ ”
Sophie nodded, her cigarette dangling from the corner of her mouth. “Of course you’re not, and I know Abby hates these cigarettes. She isn’t bashful about telling me. I plan to quit. Just not today.”
They both laughed.
“Well, I plan to quit, too. I’m just not sure when. I know they’re nasty, and the smell is absolutely, positively atrocious. It was hip to smoke when we were young, remember?”
“A lot of things were hip back when we were young, Toots. Some good, some not so good. The not so good, for me, was Walter, that lazy, wife-beating lush. You know, I actually thought I would miss him when he kicked the bucket. But the truth is, I’ve hardly given him a thought since his timely demise. I can’t even imagine my life with him in it now.”
“Do that eight times. Trust me, you won’t forget, though I must admit, since Leland’s death, I haven’t thought too much about him, either. I have to think very hard just to recall what the cheap buzzard looked like,” Toots observed, an evil grin spreading across her face.
“Well, I, for one, will never forget what Walter looked like. I’ve had enough visions to remind me. His is the one face I wish I could forget.” Sophie took a deep drag from her smoke. “But I am not going to dwell on the past. Our future just keeps getting better and better. Who would’ve thought we’d be so happy in our old age?”
“Good grief! What the hell has gotten into you this morning? Where is Goebel? I think you need to get laid,” Toots said, then crushed out her cigarette in the coffee can they kept on the side of the steps.
“Ida is right, you know?” Sophie said as she stood up.
Toots stretched her neck, then arms. “Ida’s right about a lot of things. I’m just not going to be the one to mention it to her. God, she’s already so full of herself. But what are you referring to?”
“About the sex stuff,” Sophie explained. “It does seem to pop up a lot in our conversations. I mean, I thought once you reached a certain age . . . well, I just thought, you know, I thought . . .”
Toots held her palm out in front of her. “I don’t want to know what you thought, but I can imagine it’s along the same lines that all women our age have.”
“And that would be?”
Toots returned the coffee can to its former place. “That sex isn’t important at our age.”
Sophie blushed. “It’s not. Really.”
Toots opened the screen door, cast a glance over her shoulder at Sophie, and replied, “Yes, it is. Really. Now, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll do whatever needs to be done to get Goebel beneath the sheets.”
Toots headed inside, not giving Sophie a chance to come up with a snarly response.
“Who’s to say that I haven’t already?” Sophie asked in a loud voice the second they entered the kitchen.
Toots stopped dead in her tracks. “I know you. You would have told me.”
“Told what?” Ida asked as she watched the pair.
“None of your damn business, that’s what.”
“Sophie Manchester, you don’t need to be so hateful! It will make you . . . ugly, and you won’t be able to model for Ida. Tell her you’re sorry before I sic Coco on you,” Mavis threatened. Two years ago, she would never have spoken up. Losing a hundred-plus pounds did a great deal to improve her self-esteem.
“I don’t have anything to be sorry for!” Sophie tossed back. “Do I?” She glanced at Toots.
“The list is long, but it’s not for me to say.”
Sophie did what she knew best. She flipped up her middle finger, directing it high in the air for all to see. Toots immediately followed suit.
Exasperated, Ida said, “That’s exactly what I’m talking about. I’m afraid one of you will do this on live television.” And she pointed to Sophie.
Sophie directed her single-digit salute directly at Ida. Whereupon Ida rolled her eyes and turned so that her back was to Sophie.
Dropping her arm to her side, Sophie asked, “Do you really believe I would do this on live television?”
Toots, Ida, and Mavis all spoke at once.
“You’re damn right I do!”
“Of course!”
“That’s my Sophie.”
“Well, I wouldn’t. I do have some class,” Sophie offered, her way of promising Ida she’d behave.
“It’s very difficult for me to believe that,” Ida said, a smile lighting up her face. “As long as you keep that finger where it belongs, and your potty mouth to yourself, you’ll be a wonderful model. You have excellent bone structure.”
“Miracles never cease! The beauty queen has complimented Bernice, and now she’s telling me I’ve got good bones. What’s come over you, Ida? Are you screwing around with some man we don’t know about? You’re never this nice unless you’re getting laid,” Sophie stated, her voice laced with suspicion. She gave Ida the evil eye. “Are you seeing someone on the sly and not telling us?”
Haughty as ever, Ida planted both hands on her hips. “If I were, you would be the last person I would tell. What I do in my private life is not your”—she glanced at Mavis, Toots, and Bernice, seated at the kitchen table—“or anyone else’s business.”
Sophie gave her the finger.
“See? This is exactly what I’m talking about! You have absolutely no control over that middle finger of yours! I can just see it all now. Sophie in the makeup chair, a call comes in from a prospective customer, and she flashes that finger at the camera.”
The outrageous image caused all of them to laugh.
Always having the last word, Sophie answered, “Okay, okay, I promise not to flip the bird and cuss when we’re on television. Anything more than that, you’ll just have to take your chances.”
Chapter 4
“And you’d better not smoke,” Ida added. “I’m quite sure they don’t allow smoking in the studio, either.”
“For crying out loud, Ida, if you’re ashamed of what I might do, then why in the hell did you ask me in the first place? I can take it or leave it,” Sophie cracked. “You’d think we were going to the White House or something.”
Toots decided then and there it was time to put an end to all their bickering. “I think you two have said enough. I’m tired of listening to your arguing. Sophie, you will not under any circumstances cuss or smoke or flip the bird while we’re on television. Ida, you can stop treating Sophie like she’s an . . . igmotard. Okay?”
“What the heck is an igmotard?” Sophie asked.
“I’ll tell you later. It isn’t very politically correct.”
“Since when did that ever stop either of you?” Ida questioned. “You’re both known for saying what’s on your mind.”
“Okay, if you must know, it’s a combination of ignorant, moron, and retard. Are you happy now?”
“That’s really b
ad, Toots, coming from you. Even I haven’t heard that one,” Sophie chastised. “If I had, I don’t think I’d use it. Too tacky, and cruel besides.”
“Let’s forget I said it, then, okay? It’s not a nice word, any of it. And for the record, I heard it in a teen horror movie. One that Laura Leighton starred in.”
“Figures,” Sophie said. “She’s the worst actress in Hollywood. I can’t believe they’re making another part of those stupid vampire flicks. Abby told me that she refused to cover anything even remotely connected to her or her movies. I think it has something to do with Chris.”
“When did she tell you that?” Toots asked. Her daughter called her at least three times a week since they’d returned to Charleston. She’d never mentioned this to her, but Toots figured that just because she was her mother didn’t mean she told her everything. It was only fair that she saved a few tidbits for her three godmothers.
“Last time I spoke with her. She didn’t say anything specific about Chris, but I could tell from the tone of her voice. She is so massively in love with him, I would bet you my last dollar that something major is about to happen between the two of them.”
“Oh, that would be lovely. Just think of the beautiful children they’ll have,” Mavis gushed. “I can’t wait to be a grand-godmother.”
“Is there such a thing?” Ida asked.
“It doesn’t matter. We’ll make it ‘such a thing,’ ” Toots said. “Is this a gut feeling you’re having or just godmother intuition?”
“Both,” Sophie said succinctly.
Toots had high hopes that the two of them would acknowledge their feelings for one another. It had been quite obvious for the past two years. When they were in the same room together, the air around them was electric. You could practically feel the sensuous magnetism that passed between them. They’d had several dates, but Abby kept the details to herself. Chris wasn’t so reluctant. He’d hinted for the past several months that Abby meant much more to him than she knew. When authorities had cast him as a person of interest in Laura Leighton’s disappearance, Abby had been an emotional wreck, though she didn’t come right out and say so. Toots knew. When Chris and Laura were located in the Sierra Nevada mountain range during a blizzard, holed up on Mammoth Mountain, in a cabin owned by Joshua Kline, a friend of Chris’s, the relief on her daughter’s face when she learned Chris was safe, and that he was not romantically involved with the B-grade actress, was obvious.
“Let’s keep this to ourselves for now. I wouldn’t want to spoil any good news they might share with us. When the time is right, it will happen. Until then, I’m content to let Abby run the paper while Chris looks out for her. Now”—Toots stood up—“Bernice, you and I have a date with your physical therapist. I’m going to run upstairs and change first. I’ll just be a few minutes.”
“My appointment is at noon, Toots. I really don’t want to arrive earlier than I have to. It’s not fun at all,” Bernice stated dryly.
“She wants to get to the hospital early so she can catch a glimpse of Dr. Pecker. . . . I mean Dr. Becker. Am I right, Tootsie?” Sophie teased.
Toots couldn’t help but laugh. “How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling him that? And for the record, Bernice’s therapist called yesterday and said her day was open, and I could bring her in at any time I wanted. So there. Does that answer your question?”
Sophie stood up and stretched, a sneaky grin on her face. “Sure. Bernice, whatever you do, keep her away from this good-looking doctor. She swore there would never be a husband number nine. If she continues to hang around that hospital, Dr. Becker and his pecker are in deep doo-doo.”
“Sophia Manchester, I ought to kick your skinny tail! I am not interested in Dr. Becker or any part of him . . . that way. He’s simply a new friend, and he just so happens to be Bernice’s cardiologist.”
“Who just so happens to have a pecker. I see how your face lights up when his name is mentioned. I’ve also observed the two of you together. He’s got the hots for you, too. Big-time, Tootsie,” Sophie added.
“Sophie has men and sex on the brain,” Ida interjected. “She needs to take her relationship with Goebel to the next level. It’s been long enough.”
“Why, you old rip! Just because you bop every man you meet on the first date does not mean I’m going to follow in your trampish footsteps. You have no clue what goes on between me and Goebel. Like you said, my personal affairs are not your concern.”
Mavis had remained silent for too long. She clapped her hands together in order to get their attention. “Ladies, please! We have wasted the entire morning on idle chitchat. Do I need to remind you that we are not in seventh grade anymore?” Coco growled in agreement with her mistress.
“Our bones, to my utmost regret, are quite aware of our age. At least mine are,” Toots replied as she headed toward the staircase. “Bernice, unless you want to ride a Lark to the hospital, I suggest you get your wrinkled butt in gear.”
“What the hell is a Lark?” Bernice asked of no one in particular.
Showing her amusement, Sophie replied, “The last I heard, it was a damned songbird. Toots, are you expecting poor old Bernice here to ride a frigging bird to the hospital?” Sophie could barely contain her laughter.
Toots paused on the staircase and turned around to face Sophie. “Remind me why we’re friends again. Please.”
“Because you love my sense of humor and my great beauty?”
Toots rolled her eyes, her lips upturned in a grin. “How could I forget? And for the record, the Lark that I am referring to is a motorized chair.”
“Hey, I resent that! I am not that old, Miss Smart Mouth,” Bernice said. “I’ve seen those commercials. No way will you ever catch me buzzing around doing laundry in a wheelchair with an engine.”
“I was teasing, Bernice. You should know me better than that. By the time you’re finished with your physical therapy, you’ll be able to run a marathon.”
“I guess I should thank you for the vote of confidence, but I am not exactly planning to run any marathons. I just want to be healthy enough to observe Mrs. Patterson’s place, and if I’m needed over there”—she directed her gaze to the property next door—“then I want to be able to do what it is I was sent back to do in the first place.”
Toots gave a slight nod. “Whatever your motivation is, Bernice, I suggest you find it soon, or as I explained before, you will be arriving at the hospital by another means. Bird, bus, taxi, or me. The choice is all yours.”
Continuing in the vein of the morning’s giddiness, Bernice threw both her hands high in the air, then slowly positioned her fingers until both middle fingers, gnarled with arthritis, stood out from the others and prominently displayed a double single-digit salute.
Chapter 5
“I think you have too much perfume on. It’s making my eyes water,” Bernice said. “I don’t know why you bother getting all gussied up just to watch me sweat bullets.”
Toots steered the Range Rover into the handicapped parking space. Bernice insisted on using the permit she’d been issued even though there was no way in hell Toots would allow her to drive herself to the hospital. But if it made her happy, then Toots was all for it.
“I like watching you sweat. It makes me smile.”
“Bull. You like watching my doctor examine me.”
“Oh, stop it! I don’t know what’s come over you and Sophie, but you’d better keep it to yourselves. If you so much as hint to Dr. Becker about such . . . nonsense, then you will be riding a bird to the hospital. Or a taxi.”
Toots shut off the engine. Pulling her sun visor down, she peered in the small vanity mirror. She smacked her lips together and fluffed her hair before closing the mirror.
“I guess you like what you see. I wonder if Dr. Becker will?” Bernice asked as she retrieved her handbag from the floor.
“I don’t know and don’t care. Come on, let’s get this over with. I have much more exciting things to do than hang arou
nd a hospital.”
Bernice clambered to get out of the Range Rover. But before she had a chance to close the passenger door, Toots was at her side. “Be careful. I don’t want the therapist to think you’re not well taken care of.” Without being too pushy, Toots led Bernice through the hospital doors and then inside the elevator and up to the third floor, where the physical therapy center was located.
The center was divided up into sections according to the patients’ different levels of ability, beyond the required initial phase tackled while still in the hospital. Bernice had completed that phase with flying colors. After three days, she’d walked up and down the halls like a prostitute searching for her next john. Toots smiled when she recalled Sophie telling this to Bernice. She had recuperated faster than expected of a woman her age and had been sent home, promising to change her lifestyle. Bernice had followed the doctor’s orders to the letter, and then some.
Now she was nearing the end of phase three. When it was successfully completed, she would be allowed to continue her therapy at home, as long as she continued to go to doctor appointments and all of her blood work remained normal. And so far, good old Bernice had passed this third phase with flying colors, too. Toots intended to keep her friend around for a while and did whatever she could to assist Bernice in her quest for good health. Though she would not smoke around Bernice, she knew she had to seriously give up the habit. Yes, she’d cut way down, but cutting down and quitting were two different things.
When they reached what Toots called “perspiration paradise,” a room filled with all kinds of exercise equipment, and the smells to go along with it, Bernice shooed her away. “Go have coffee, or have a piece of cake in the cafeteria. I’m going to be here for a while, and I don’t need you to babysit.”
They went through this same routine three times a week. Toots rolled her eyes, took Bernice’s handbag for safekeeping, then headed for the bank of elevators. “Just so you know, I don’t eat the dried-up cake they serve in the cafeteria. I plan to have a bowl of Froot Loops.” Toots was noted for her sweet tooth. For a period of time, she’d actually called herself a vegan; but when she had to resort to using soy milk, she’d given up her attempt at a vegan lifestyle. It was either whole milk or nothing at all for her.
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