And before I could add one of the witty comments I’m famous for, everybody else dissolved into a fit of laughter.
When we all calmed down – we voted to act like we were grown-ups, although for some of us, it was a stretch – it was time for coffee and the rest of the meeting’s (that is, Nancy’s) agenda.
Mary Catherine raised her hand. Nancy looked at her and said, “We’re not in school anymore, Mary Catherine. You don’t have to raise your hand to speak.”
That set us of giggling again. Nancy rapped on her water glass. “Come on, folks. Let’s get a grip here.
“Mary Catherine, what did you want to say?”
“I was just wondering how we’re going to let people in our class know about the reunion,” she said. “I don’t know about the rest of you,” Mary Catherine looked around the table, “but I haven’t seen most of the class in forty years. Which brings up an interesting point, come to think of it, Nancy. How did you find us? I know that you and Claire and Carol and Mary Alice have all kept in touch, but what about the rest of us?”
Nancy looked so smug I almost belted her. “I have a secret source,” she said. “The Realtors’ network. As some of you know, I’m a real estate agent in Fairport. I’ve been keeping track of any realty transactions that involved a member of our class for the past four years. It’s not a perfect system, but it’s a place to begin. Plus there are websites like
classmates.com that we can use.”
“I think that site makes a person register first, and give out personal information, before you can find anything out,” Claire said. “And there may be a registration fee, too.”
Nancy frowned. “Then let’s put that site on hold for now.” She looked at her notes and continued, “I’m betting Sister Rose will have some ideas about finding people, though. For all we know, she’s been keeping tabs on us all these years.”
That provoked another round of giggles. And a quick update from Nancy and me as to what Sister Rose was up to these days.
“At least she’s not terrorizing innocent students anymore,” Mary Beth said. “She was one tough teacher.”
“Now, let’s talk about a theme for the reunion,” Nancy said, determined to keep us on track. “I suggest we call it the Ruby Reunion, because ruby is the stone for fortieth anniversaries. What do you all think?”
I found myself zoning out of this part of the meeting. I’d heard this idea before, and I knew Nancy would get her way. She usually does.
I looked around my dining room table at my former classmates. I realized, to my complete surprise, how glad I was to be part of planning this reunion. And what a terrific group of women had been in my high school class. What a gift to be able to reconnect with them after all these years.
Except for Meg, of course. I’m not a masochist.
My mind wandered, all on its own, down the Meg track. I wondered what she’d been up to all these years since we graduated from Mount Saint Francis Academy. She’d been full of questions for the rest of us about our lives, but offered precious little about her own life. Which was weird, since she was such a show-off in high school, and couldn’t wait to share every detail about her wonderful life with the rest of us peons.
I wondered if Neecy knew, and I decided to figure out a way to ask her. First, of course, I’d thank her for her help today. The third degree would follow after a decent interval.
Then, my thoughts returned to Meg’s childish behavior, storming out of the meeting when she didn’t get her own way about the pole dancing. I hoped that she wouldn’t be crazy enough, or mad enough, to try to ruin our class reunion.
Just for spite.
Chapter 18
I never bear a grudge. At my age, I can’t remember
who I’m mad at, let alone why.
Everyone except Nancy pitched in to clear the table and clean up after the reunion meeting. She made a quick exit, citing an appointment with a potential buyer for a property she’d listed more than a year ago. And since we all knew how tough the real estate market was these days, even though Fairport is on Connecticut’s so-called Gold Coast – meaning where the big bucks are in the Nutmeg State – no one tried to stop her.
Or made a snide remark about her getting out of doing the dishes for what was, essentially, a meeting she had called. (That would be me, in case you didn’t get that.)
After everyone else had left, I insisted that Neecy let Porter out for a romp around our fenced-in back yard. And, keeping my fingers crossed, I let Lucy and Ethel out to join her.
I kept my fingers crossed because I’m never sure how my dogs are going to react when another dog – especially another female – is off-leash on their turf.
But to my utter amazement – and relief – the three girls got along famously, running around the yard like old friends.
“I guess Lucy and Ethel like other members of the Sporting group,” I said to Neecy, referring to the way the American Kennel Club classifies dogs. “If Porter had been in the Terrier or Hound group, I doubt they would have been so welcoming.”
“It’s funny how dogs gravitate to others who like them,” Neecy said. “Too bad people aren’t as intuitive as dogs are. We often make bad choices. At least, I certainly have.”
I let that remark sink into my brain for a beat or two, not quite sure how to respond. But I sensed it could be an opening for a conversation about Meg, so I plunged ahead.
“Thanks so much for helping me out today, Neecy,” I said, throwing a tennis ball in the general direction of the three dogs. As usual, my pitch fell short, and Lucy gave me a dirty look before she ran to get it. Like me, she eschews most forms of exercise.
“I’m really excited about how the reunion is shaping up. I think everybody is.”
Neecy snorted. “Yeah, everybody but Meg. Who, of course, had to create a scene when she didn’t get her own way.”
Careful, Carol. You could be on uncharted waters here. Just this one time, don’t stick your foot in your mouth.
“Well, I didn’t want to be overly critical,” I said, “but since you brought this up, I thought Meg’s behavior was pretty childish. One of the important things parents should teach their kids is that nobody gets their own way all the time. That’s just the way life works.”
Of course, I agreed. In principle. Not that this stops me from trying to have my own way as much of the time as possible. But in a much more adult, and subtle way. Of course.
“I don’t want to keep you, Neecy,” I said. “But the three dogs are having such a good time running around the yard and chasing sticks and heaven knows what else, that I hate to break this up.”
“Don’t worry about my schedule, Carol,” Neecy said. “Truthfully, I don’t have one today. Tony will be at the office all day. Or maybe at one of his construction sites. And then he’ll probably head to a political meeting. I doubt he’ll even be home for supper. But if you have things you want to do, please don’t let Porter and me intrude. We can go to the beach and she can run around there for a little while.”
“I don’t think so, Neecy,” I said. “It’s after April first, and the town of Fairport, in its infinite wisdom, has closed off beach access to dogs until the end of October.”
I pulled out a lawn chair which Jim had left propped up against the side of the house.
Please feel free to insert a comment here about my husband never putting things away where they belong once he’s finished with them. I don’t mind a bit. In fact, maybe if you said something to him, he’d pay attention. Heaven knows, he ignores me.
“Have a seat, Neecy,” I said. “I’ll sit on the steps.”
Neecy took the chair with a little hesitation. “If you’re sure you don’t mind our staying a little longer, I will.” She winced as she sat on the chair’s hard seat. “My pills are wearing off. Good thing I always car
ry some in my purse.”
When I returned from the kitchen with a glass of cold water, Neecy didn’t look well at all. Her face was pasty white, and she was starting to shake.
Neecy grabbed the glass from my hand and downed two oval white pills in one swallow. Then she took a deep breath, leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes.
I took the glass from her hand and just stood there, watching her like a dope. I felt so helpless. Gradually, the color returned to her face and she opened her eyes.
“Thanks, Carol,” Neecy said. “I feel much better now. Sorry to be so much trouble.”
“Trouble? Don’t say that, Neecy. You’re no trouble. I’m just glad I was able to help you. Does this happen often? Oh, my God, what if this had happened to you when you were driving?”
Neecy gave me a weak smile. “Don’t worry, Carol. This was an especially bad pain attack. I was having so much fun at the reunion planning lunch that I forgot to keep to my regular med schedule. I doubt it will happen again. Just give me a minute to catch my breath.”
I sat down on the step. “Take all the time you need. I’m glad to have the chance to talk to you more, and I had no plans for the rest of the afternoon.” I waved in the general direction of the three frolicking canines. “Besides, as you can see, the three dogs are having a terrific time. I haven’t seen Lucy and Ethel run around this much in a long time. I bet that when you try to put Porter back in your car, they’ll start to cry.”
I laughed at Neecy’s puzzled expression. “I’m kidding. Really. But maybe, since the dogs are getting along so well, we should arrange to get them together on a regular basis. What do you think?”
“What a great idea, Carol,” Neecy said. She started to get up from the chair and winced. “Damn it. I think I’d better sit here a little while longer. I’m still in some pain, but it’s subsiding.”
“I don’t mean to pry,” much, “but what happened to cause you such pain? Did you have a car accident? Or a bad fall?”
“I had a skiing accident,” Neecy said. “About two years ago.” She closed her eyes briefly. “It was pretty terrible. In fact, I almost died. But thanks to some great doctors, and a long period of rehabilitation, here I am. Not quite as good as new, but at least, I’m still in one piece.”
I covered her hand with mine. “What an awful thing. Thank God you’re ok.”
“Yes, I was lucky. But I still have some pain. It’s manageable. Most of the time, an over-the-counter pill does the trick. I don’t want to become dependent on prescription drugs. Especially because of….”
Finally, Neecy said, “I’m not sure you know about this, Carol. But our only son, Anthony, died of a drug overdose right before he graduated from high school.” Her eyes were filled with tears, and who could blame her?
Her voice trailed off, and for once I kept my mouth shut. But I covered her hand with mine and held it tightly.
Neecy sighed deeply and squeezed my hand. “Thanks, Carol. It’s still very hard.”
Porter must have sensed her mistress’s mood, because she raced across the yard and plopped down at Neecy’s feet. Dogs can be very intuitive to people that they love.
“Tony gave Porter to me to help me recover from the accident,” Neecy said, stroking her dog’s head. “I don’t know what I would do without her. And you know how demanding a puppy can be. She had to be walked, and fed, and generally taken care of. She was the best medicine I could have had. Having to take care of her forced me to get back on my feet.”
“Dogs are wonderful therapy,” I said. “And Tony sounds like a dream husband.”
“He is most of the time,” Neecy said. “But now that I’m better, I want to do more things for myself. Tony means well, but he doesn’t seem to understand that. And I’m betting that he’ll want me to get more involved in his campaign. It’s not that I want him to lose, but I’m basically a shy person. Talking to strangers at cocktail parties is not my idea of a good time.”
I didn’t want to learn anymore intimate information about Neecy and Tony’s marriage. I have enough trouble trying to figure out my own relationship sometimes. So I changed the subject.
“I bet Meg was helpful while you were recovering from your accident,” I said. “I know that having close friends around whenever I’ve gone through a rough time has been invaluable for me.”
Ok, I was fishing for information here. So sue me. I bet you’re curious, too.
“You’re kidding again, right, Carol? Meg rarely thinks about anybody but herself. And until she showed up on my doorstep three weeks ago, I hadn’t seen her for years.”
I couldn’t wait to e-mail Nancy with what I’d found out.
I thought the reunion meeting went well today, and hope your house showing did, too. Meg storming out was a blessing. Maybe she’ll make good on her threat and boycott the reunion, too. Neecy stayed here later and her dog, Porter, and Lucy and Ethel got along great. I was surprised. You’d have thought they were old friends, the way they were running around the yard together. Yes, even Lucy! And you won’t believe this. Neecy told me that she hadn’t seen Meg in years. She said Meg just showed up on her doorstep three weeks ago. How about that! And how the heck did you find her? Do you know what dear Meg has been doing all these years? She was nosy enough about all of our lives, but kept mum about what she’d been up to. What do you think? And more importantly, WHAT DO YOU KNOW? And you better share! Love, C
Nancy’s reply was instantaneous .
I did know Meg hadn’t seen Neecy in years. I called Neecy when I was trying to track Meg down, among others in their crowd. I guess I forgot to tell you that. I can’t remember how I found her. It could have been through Facebook. Anyway, she’s the same control freak she always was, and I’m glad she stormed out of the meeting, too. Her idea of a pole dancing class was disgusting. I hope she crawls back under whatever rock she was hiding under, and stays there. Gotta go. Big date tonight with You Know Who. Love you back. N
“That Nancy,” I said to Ethel. “She doesn’t mince words about anyone, especially someone she can’t stand.”
Unlike me, who tries to find something good in everyone. But I don’t want to brag.
“Where’s Meg been for almost forty years?” I asked the dogs. “And what’s she been doing? And why didn’t she want to talk about herself? Heaven knows, when we were in high school, that’s all she did.”
“You’re talking to yourself again, Carol,” said Jim, who’d walked into the office in time to hear the last part of my one-way conversation. “And what’s this about Meg?”
“In the first place, dear, I was not talking to myself,” I said with the assurance of someone who knows she’s been caught doing something really stupid by someone who’d never, under any circumstances, understand why. But I made a vain attempt to explain myself, anyway. “I was talking to Lucy and Ethel. They’re very good listeners. Non-judgmental. Non-critical. And they never answer me back.
“Plus, they have perfect, consistent hearing. Unlike other beings who reside in this house and whose hearing is selective, to say the least.”
Jim gave me a dirty look. The kind he always gives me when he’s on the defensive. “Don’t try and change the subject, Carol. And never mind who you were talking to. What do you know about Meg?”
“Nothing, Jim,” I said slowly. “Nothing at all. How does a person drop out of sight for almost forty years? And, more importantly, why?”
Chapter 19
The secret to staying young is to live honestly, eat slowly, and drink in moderation. Now, I ask you, what kind of fun is that?
Once Meg vanished from the reunion committee and, hopefully, from Fairport as well, I didn’t obsess about her anymore. She was gone, and that was that.
Besides, we only had a few months to plan what Nancy insisted on calling our Ruby Reunion. The way she wa
s pushing the rest of the committee around and giving us a dizzying array of assignments, some people started calling her Captain Bligh behind her back.
I’ll confess that privately I agreed with their assessment of Nancy’s high-handed organizing techniques. But as her very best friend, I felt obligated to defend her behavior by reminding everyone, including Claire – who was always the most vocal critic – that Terry, Nancy’s only daughter, was away in the Peace Corps and only heaven knew if or when she’d ever come home. Nancy would probably never get the chance to help organize any important events in Terry’s life. Like her wedding, for example. So throwing herself into the reunion planning was perfectly understandable.
Belatedly, I remembered how I had resisted Nancy’s attempt to help me organize Jenny and Mark’s wedding last December. Instead, Jim and I hired a professional wedding planner, and things didn’t exactly go as planned for anyone.
Especially the wedding planner.
So what if Nancy was a little over the top about this reunion? Forgive, forget and move on. That’s what I always say.
Well, that’s sometimes what I say. And every once in a while, I mean it, too.
“I’ve had the most terrific idea,” Nancy said at what I fervently hoped was our last reunion planning meeting. Honestly, organizing this reunion was taking up more time than planning a presidential summit.
Not that I know that from personal experience, you understand. But I bet I’m right. Plus, the President has a staff to organize that sort of thing. We were just a handful of (late) middle-aged women with children. Husbands. Dogs. In other words, responsibilities. And lives that did not live, eat and breathe for this reunion.
Class Reunions Can Be Murder -- Every Wife Has A Story; A Carol and Jim Andrews Baby Boomer Mystery Page 9
