by K. A. Davis
“I thought you majored in art?” Claire interrupted.
“I let you think that. My major was economics. My minor, and my passion, was art.” she continued, taking a deep breath. “One year, for Christmas, Mom got me a sketch pad and some yellow #2 pencils. She wrapped them in plain, tissue paper tied with string. She pretended they were from Santa, but I knew better. She didn’t know there were different pencils for sketching, not that she could have afforded them. That was the best Christmas of my life. I would go up on the roof of the tenement, it was not like this,” she said, waving her wine glass toward the ocean. “Instead of a beautiful view like this, I had the smells and sounds of the inner city. Anyway, I would sketch up there for hours. When the weather was bad I would hide in the furnace room, in the basement, and sketch; anything to get away from Dad.”
“Geez, Caroline, why didn’t you tell us? I’m sure there were things we could have done to help you,” Jill said.
“You were all so cool. I just couldn’t make myself tell you. Stupid pride.”
“Did Bill know?”
“Hell, no. Mom died shortly after graduation and I didn’t meet Bill till later. I never told him details about my family.”
Diane leaned a little closer. “May I ask what happened to your Dad?”
“Don’t know. Don’t care. As far as I’m concerned he killed my mother and should have served time.”
The night air had become thick with emotion. For once, no one could think of anything to say. Finally, Claire asked, “Caroline, if you could do anything you wanted, what would it be?”
Caroline thought for a few seconds and then looked at Claire like she had given her an expensive gift.
“I would paint. Do nothing but sit in a garden, or at the beach, or on a mountain top, and paint.”
Caroline got up from her chair and leaned over Claire. Lifting Claire’s head up with her hand she kissed her on the cheek. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“You just did more for me in one sentence than my shrink has done in ten years.”
“Well, hell, Claire,” Jill laughed. “You’ve missed your calling.”
“Holy shit. Think of the money I could have been making all these years!”
“Ya know what else?” Caroline asked.
“Afraid to ask,” Diane replied.
“This isn’t even the real me. Somehow, we all drifted apart during those years when we married and had children, and you never met Bill. He was all about status. I had to be the best wife, the best mother, the best hostess… he even dictated what I wore and how to look. What you see is not me, my hair isn’t auburn; it’s frizzy, strawberry blond with streaks of grey and I have freckles all over my face! And, I wear contacts and Spanks! So there!”
This was the last straw, the women were laughing so hard they couldn’t see. Wiping her eyes with her pajama sleeve Jill suddenly jumped up, ran to the stairs, and disappeared.
“Her bladder,” Claire said. “Wine and laughter always do that to her.”
Chapter Three
Sunday
Morning came way too quickly for all four women. Claire woke with what felt like a mouth full of cotton and looked at the clock. “Oh Lord. Jill, wake up it’s after eleven.”
Her eyeballs felt like they were going to fall out of her head. Easing herself up to a sitting position she focused on the other bed. Jill was already gone. Claire fell back onto her bed and covered her eyes with her forearm. “Holy crap. I drank way too much last night. I’m going to have to take this slowly.”
Forfeiting a shower in favor of a glass of water and some aspirin she willed her muscles to cooperate. Leaning on the banister for support, she slowly moved down the staircase. The scene in the parlor was less than attractive. Caroline was lying on the sofa with one foot on the floor, sunglasses over her eyes snoring like a drunken sailor. Diane was half sitting, half laying in a recliner with a washcloth over her eyes and her mouth wide open. Claire made the sign of the cross toward her friends and continued to the kitchen.
On the kitchen counter she found an array of vitamin and aspirin bottles. There was a note in Jill’s handwriting.
To Whom It May Concern,
Take one of each vitamin, 2 aspirin, a full glass of water, and go back to bed.
It hurt to smile. Claire followed the directions and turned to go back upstairs when the screen door opened behind her.
“Hey, you’re up,” Jill whispered.
“You don’t have to yell,” Claire said, putting her hands over her ears.
“I haven’t seen you this bad since that kegger at Lambda Chi.”
“And, hopefully, you never will again.”
“Where are the other two?”
“Splashed all over the parlor, and they don’t look any better than I do. Where were you?”
“Walking on the beach with Drew.”
Claire was too tired to quiz Jill, she just raised one eyebrow and grabbed the sink to steady herself.
“I need to get my phone and take some pictures. This will make good blackmail someday,” Jill said, heading for the parlor.
Claire followed her holding onto the wall as she went.
Jill, good to her word, was shooting pictures when Diane woke up and pulled a throw pillow in front of her face. “You show those to anyone and I’ll sue.”
“Oh, come on Diane, be a sport. We’ll laugh at these next year.”
Caroline started to stir. Keeping her sunglasses on, she sat up. “What time is it?”
“It’s going on noon,” Claire replied.
“Shouldn’t we be getting cleaned up?”
Claire looked at Diane. Diane looked at Jill.
“Don’t look at me,” Jill laughed. “I’m fine. You three are the ones who need showers.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll go first,” Caroline said, stumbling toward the staircase.
“Thank God,” Claire replied, heading for the sofa. “I need a little more time.”
Diane laid her head back down, placed the washcloth back over her eyes, and mumbled, “I’m so glad our kids aren’t here.”
Caroline
The hot shower started the healing process and encouraged life back into her body. Caroline looked into the mirror, over the dresser, in her bedroom. She felt better but her reflection wasn’t convincing. The white bathrobe, and white towel wrapped tightly around her head, made the sunburned face and bloodshot eyes look like a caricature of the woman she thought she knew.
Her eyes felt dry and gritty. “Oh hell, I forgot to take my contacts out last night.” Locating her makeup bag hanging on the back of the bedroom door, she retrieved her glasses and a bottle of Visine. Returning to the dresser she carefully removed the contacts and liberally squirted drops into each eye.
Bending over, she released the towel and rubbed her hair briskly. Standing up she combed her fingers through her hair and placed her glasses on her nose. Again she looked in the mirror. She looked pretty bad… to be expected after the night they had. She knew the woman in the mirror. She recognized the face, the throat, the hair. She reached up and touched the laugh lines around her eyes and traced the furrows that led to the corners of her mouth that now drooped slightly with age. What she didn’t see, was the soul. Where was this woman’s heart? Where were her dreams?
Movement in the mirror caught her attention. The breeze coming through the open window behind her was gently blowing the lace curtain. The curtain beckoned. Caroline studied it. Beautiful in its delicate design, it flew gracefully free on the wind anchored only by the curtain rod at the top. Years of guarding the room from the sun had turned the curtain yellow. What had that curtain seen over the years? A family growing up in this house and playing on the beach? It probably had watched a life similar to Caroline’s and although aged and losing its beauty, like her, it was still free to fly on the wind.
Crossing the room Caroline pushed the curtain to one side. She turned a large wingchair to face the window and sat down. Clo
sing her eyes she tried to clear her mind. When she opened her eyes there was no longer a window before her, there was a masterpiece framed by the window frame with a beautiful banner of lace flowing down one side. She studied every detail of the scene. She saw the billions of sand particles covering the earth like a lush carpet. She saw the sea grass swaying on the breeze like the dancers in a Jean Beraud painting. She saw the endless, blue sky with magnificent, white, cloud horses galloping across it. Finally, she saw the waves marching up the beach and then retreating.
Each wave touched her heart, as it receded back into the ocean it took with it a piece of her unhappiness. Slowly, each wave came and went. Slowly, she let herself heal. Slowly, she found herself. Slowly, tears ran down her cheeks as a voice inside her told her it was going to be okay. “And, it will,” she said, out loud.
Caroline wiped the tears away with her hands and stood up. She patted the back of the chair and walked back to the mirror. “It’s time girlfriend,” she whispered. Her hair was almost dry and looked like spiral pasta twists it was so curly. Normally, she would have reached for the flatiron to straighten her hair into its chic style, but instead she turned away from the mirror and started dressing.
Turning the doorknob to leave the room, Caroline looked at her well-manicured hands with the long, artificial fingernails. She noticed her makeup bag hanging on the back of the door; it held as much inventory as a Nordstrom’s cosmetic counter. She didn’t want to guess the dollar value tightly zipped into each clear plastic compartment. Shaking her head she left the room.
Caroline could hear the water running in the bathroom and the old pipes rattling with the effort. She sent a message to the person in the bathroom. “Hope that shower does as much for you as it did for me.”
Diane was still asleep in the chair in the parlor and there were sounds of someone moving around in the kitchen. Caroline opened the front door and left the house.
***
Seeking shade on the north porch Diane, Claire, and Jill sat in the Shaker rockers with tall glasses of orange juice lined up on the porch railing in front of them.
“Is this what it’s going to be like?” Jill asked.
“Like what’s going to be like?” Diane countered, turning to her friend.
“Us, in our old age, sitting in rockers too tired to do anything fun.”
Claire chuckled, “Speak for yourself. Last night was just a bump in the road. We may not be able to handle our booze like we used to, but we have lots of good years left.”
“I agree,” Diane added. “We’re just out of shape and a little overwhelmed with busy lives.”
“Exactly,” Claire said. “Starting this evening, we’re going to get back into shape.”
Jill stopped rocking and leaned forward to look past Diane who sat between her and Claire. “If you’re talking about exercise, I already had mine for today, thank you.”
“How about you Diane? Should we start doing exercises or rent some bikes?”
Always the diplomat, Diane replied, “I think that’s a wonderful idea. However, I’d like to suggest we research the matter in depth in the morning.”
“I second that,” Jill said.
“Okay, tomorrow is soon enough. By the way, did Caroline tell either of you where she was going?” Claire asked.
“Not me,” Jill replied.
“Me neither. I didn’t even hear her leave,” Diane answered.
“Do you think we need to worry? She was pretty upset last night.”
Diane took a sip of juice. “I’m sure she’s embarrassed and just wanted some time to herself.”
The afternoon slowly progressed with seagulls flying overhead, going about their work of bombing the road. Jill hummed an old 80s tune while Diane and Claire rocked in time to the beat.
Claire’s stomach growled. “Is anyone getting hungry?”
“Sure am,” Diane answered. “We better start thinking about dinner.”
“No worries. I have a chicken casserole in the oven and a garden salad in the frig,” Jill smiled.
“Dear Martha Stewart, what would we do without you,” Diane asked.
“Probably starve,” Jill grinned.
The sound of a car drew the three pairs of eyes toward the road. Caroline’s rental car pulled into the driveway.
Diane squinted. “Who’s that in Caroline’s car?”
The trunk lid flew up and the driver’s door opened. A woman in stone-washed jeans, a white T-shirt, and flip flops stepped out of the car. She had short, curly, light red hair and wore sunglasses.
“What the?” Jill declared. “I recognize the sunglasses, but not the woman,”
The woman waved and walked to the trunk of the car.
“Oh my God, it’s Caroline,” Claire exclaimed, in disbelief. “What happened to her?”
“I’d say, the shuttle has landed Houston,” Diane offered.
Caroline leaned into the trunk and removed a wooden easel, a leather case that resembled a small suitcase, and a large, shopping bag. Walking toward the porch she called out. “Hi, everyone.”
The women on the porch could only stare with their mouths agape.
Caroline walked up the steps, leaned the easel against the porch railing, and set the case and shopping bag on the porch floor. She replaced her sunglasses with her regular glasses and asked, “Isn’t anyone going to say anything.”
Diane found her voice first. “Caroline, what have you done?”
Holding out her arms she twirled around. “It’s the new me. The real me. What do you think?”
The women sitting in the rockers examined her from head to toe. She had had her hair cut and lightened, if she was wearing makeup it was so light you could see her freckles, and the artificial nails were gone revealing short, clean nails.
Claire was the first one to say it. “You look ten years younger and wonderful!”
“Did you get all that done in Haworth?” Jill asked.
“Sure did. Amazing little town.”
Reaching into the shopping bag Caroline pulled out three, pink T-shirts and handed one to each of her friends.
Diane held up her T-shirt and read the large blue message on the front, “Old Broads Rock!” Underneath the words was a row of white, rocking chairs exactly like the ones they were sitting in.
“Thank you, Caroline. You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know, but I wanted to thank you all for helping me last night. This is going to be the best vacation ever and I want us to remember it.”
“Oh, no doubt about that,” Jill said, pulling her phone out of her pocket and pointing to it. “I’ve got the proof.”
“What did I tell you about those pictures?” Diane interrupted, with a glare.
Claire changed the subject to Caroline’s purchases. “It looks like you’re going to start painting again.”
“I’m going to try. It’ll take some time, but I plan to make the time. And, I want to take some classes to get the old, artistic juices flowing.”
The timer on the oven rudely interrupted. Claire held the door for the others to enter. Before going in herself, she took one last look around. The old, red pickup was slowly passing Windward Cottage. Claire closed the screen and inside doors, and made sure they were both locked.
***
Jill
Nightcaps on the widow’s walk turned into warm mugs of cocoa.
“That was a great dinner Jill. Thank you,” Caroline said, wrapping her hands around her hot mug. Claire and Diane nodded in agreement as steam from their mugs carried the smell of the sweet chocolate to their noses.
“You’re a great cook Jill. Do you cook much at home?” Diane asked.
“No, not much. Carrie’s not home for supper very often so I usually grab fast food on my way home from work. Can you tell?” she asked, standing and squeezing the roll around her middle.
“That’s nothing,” Caroline said, taking up the gauntlet. “Look at the size of these thighs!”
“Stop it
you two. We are what we are. We’re all blessed with good health and a few extra pounds doesn’t matter,” Claire declared.
“I know, but with the whole world so focused on youth it’s depressing. What chance do women our age have of attracting a man?” Jill asked.
Lowering her mug into her lap Diane looked at Jill. “Are you seriously looking for a man?”
Thoughtfully, Jill answered Diane. “I don’t know. I’m starting to feel old and with Carrie probably leaving home soon I think I might be afraid of being alone. I actually do like to cook and take care of someone. If I had had my way, I would have been a stay-at-home mom and doted on my husband.”
No one said a word. Jill had never expressed these feelings or talked about her marriage.
After a long silence Jill looked at her friends. “What’s wrong? Why isn’t anyone saying anything?”
“We didn’t know you were unhappy,” Claire said.
“I wouldn’t say I’m unhappy. I just feel like I missed something without a man around. I like men. I sometimes worry that I made Carrie too independent and that she won’t give a man a chance because of my leaving Ray. You think you’re doing the right thing, but then you look back and ask if it was really as bad as you thought at the time. Did I cheat Carrie out of having a dad? How is she going to feel about men not having a dad or brothers? She never even got to know my dad because she was so little when he died. He was a wonderful man. I think I resent his death more than I do Ray for being such a bastard. He was a bastard, wasn’t he?”
“I didn’t really know him,” Diane said.
Caroline shrugged her shoulders. “We were already living in Atlanta when you were married and I never got to know him either.”
Jill looked at Claire who was sitting motionless with her mug held up to her mouth.
“Claire?”
Claire looked at Jill and lowered the mug slowly. “Oh, he was a bastard alright. You can rest assured you did the right thing. Do you remember the night Spence and I had to pull the SOB off you? You were black and blue from your head to your toes and poor Carrie was screaming in fear. Oh no Jill, don’t you dare question leaving him.”
