by Nancy Thayer
Marilyn had to look away. In an attempt to keep herself from laughing, she pinched her nose the way she did when she tried not to sneeze. “Talk about designer genes,” she snorted, reminding herself to tell the Hot Flash Club about her pun.
“It’s not funny,” Theodore snapped.
“No, of course it’s not.” Marilyn pulled herself together. “I’m sorry, Theodore. I know you were anticipating a new and more vigorous life. I can understand, because—”
“It’s best that it worked out this way, I suppose.” Theodore’s voice took on the philosophical tone he used when he lectured. “You and I have a marriage, after all, that is considered enviable by many. Michelle is only a graduate student, while you are a tenured professor with this university. You really are the more appropriate spouse for me, in spite of your age.”
“Oh, but, Teddy, I can’t continue to be your, um, spouse. ” Marilyn cocked her head as she thought. “Spouse is a rather ugly word, isn’t it? Like mouse. Or souse. I’d have to be soused as a mouse to remain your spouse.” Another laugh escaped. “Sorry.”
“Are you drunk?” Theodore roared.
“Not at all, Theodore! I’ve never been more sober.
I’m just very—well, I guess I’d have to call it happy.” She rose, setting her glass on a copy of a journal containing Theodore’s latest essay, even though—especially because—she knew it would leave a ring. A round, empty, unattractive, useless ring, like her marriage band.
“You can move back into the house, Theodore.” Marilyn went to the window and looked out. “I have a party to go to, and I’m sure someone there will offer me a bed for the night. I’ll come back tomorrow and fetch a few of my things, then we can make arrangements for appointments with the lawyers, and all the rest.”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Even the top of Theodore’s head was crimson. “I just told you, Marilyn, I’m coming home!”
But just then Marilyn saw, through the window, Faraday’s car pull into the drive.
“I’ve got to go now, Theodore,” Marilyn said. “If you think you’d be happier here in the house, then of course stay here. I’ll make other arrangements.”
Theodore rose, all five feet six inches trembling with frustration. “You can’t just walk away! We have things to discuss.”
Faraday walked toward the house, looking terribly handsome in his blazer and tartan tie.
Marilyn said coolly, “I apologize, Theodore. I had no idea you were coming over. You should have phoned first. I really have to go now.” She grabbed up her purse, checked her hair in the mirror, and went to the front door. She wanted to forestall Faraday from coming into the house; Theodore might create an ugly scene.
But Theodore, incensed at her attitude, came roaring down the hall after her, bellowing, “Marilyn!”
Abruptly, she rounded on him. “Stop it, Theodore, or you’ll give yourself a heart attack!”
Theodore slammed to a halt, anxiously slapping a hand over his heart.
“Good-bye, Theodore,” Marilyn said coolly. “You can stay here tonight, if you wish. Leave me a note about what you decide.”
Theodore blinked. For the first time she could remember, he seemed at a loss for words.
Marilyn went out. She met Faraday on the sidewalk, where he grabbed her up and gave her such a long, passionate kiss, her toes tingled.
Too bad the preview lasted longer than the movie.
She’d ask her HFC friends about that; tonight, when she got the chance.
41
Alice’s condo was wall-to-wall people. The original crew was there: Dr. Donovan, the psychiatrist, and his wife Reya. Suzanne West, the astrologist. Tom Warren, the yoga pro. The beauticians Fred and Ted. They’d all brought friends of their own.
Marilyn had come with Faraday McAdam, a bull of a man so ruddy-faced and robust Alice could imagine him in kilt and shield, waving a sword as he charged after Mel Gibson in Braveheart. Shirley had driven two of her clients, old Nora Salter and shy Julie Martin, who, in the car, had begun to bond over a discussion of the stock market, and now sat whispering to each other on the sofa.
Bob Newcott, the rather slick-looking professor of the business management course Shirley was taking, had arrived, as well as three other couples taking the class, all of whom spoke little English and seemed most interested in the canapés Alan and Jennifer D’Annucio had made and were passing around on trays. Like Jennifer, Alan wore black pants and a white shirt. He’d gained back some of the weight he’d lost and carried himself proudly. All that baking and cooking with Jennifer was obviously good for him; Alice remembered he’d always liked messing around in the kitchen.
Faye sat on the sofa holding Megan, bobbing like a daffodil in her yellow frilly dress. Half the females in the room bent over her, cooing and smiling. What was it about babies that melted every woman’s heart? No doubt the chemical reaction was caused by the same hormones that overheated and misfired when women hit fifty.
When she was sure everyone was there, Alice tapped a knife against a glass and called the room to order. She and Shirley presented a brief reprise of their Golden Moments pep talk, answered a few questions, then let the evening drift back into a flowing social mode where the real decisions would be made as people drank wine or sparkling water, munched crisp shrimp, bruschetta, and stuffed artichokes, exchanged business cards and jokes and gossip.
Alice wished they’d all go home, everyone but the HFC. She needed desperately to talk to them about Gideon. In the kitchen, she found Jennifer filling the last tray with watercress cheese puffs, and remembered Faye’s plan.
“You’ve been working all evening,” Alice told Jennifer. “Let me take that.”
“Oh, thanks!” Jennifer said brightly. She washed her hands, pushed her long black hair behind her ears, and sprinted out to the living room.
Alice followed, carrying the tray. People crowded toward her, grabbing up the puffs. Alice watched Jennifer squeeze into the group around the sofa.
“She is the cutest little baby I’ve ever seen!” Jennifer told Faye. “What’s her name?” Jennifer crouched down with the fluid ease of a gymnast, in spite of her high heels, to be eye level with Megan, who reached out a dimpled hand for a lock of Jennifer’s glossy black hair.
Faye doubled over, coughing like a consumptive in a blizzard. “Could you hold her?” she gasped. “Must get—water.”
“Sure!” Jennifer lifted the baby from Faye’s arms. Alice held her breath. Megan looked up at Jennifer and burst into her most winning, winsome smile, showing the glimmering beginning of one pearly tooth.
Bent and hacking, Faye headed through the crowd, flapping one hand to clear the way to the kitchen. Alice set the tray of puffs—only three were left—on a side table and hurried to join Faye. Shirley was in earnest conversation with a group of interested investors, but Alice caught Marilyn’s eye. Marilyn left Faraday talking with Dr. Donovan and sped in.
“What’s happening?” she asked.
Faye stood at the sink, running water into a glass. Part of the kitchen was open to the living room, divided by only a counter, so without turning around, she muttered, “Jennifer’s holding Megan. She doesn’t know who Megan is, doesn’t know who I am.”
“Looks like love,” Marilyn reported softly. “She’s smiling so much she’s drooling.”
“Megan or Jennifer?” Alice joked.
“That girl should have her own babies,” Marilyn said.
“I couldn’t agree more!” Faye exclaimed. “But she should have them with some other man than my daughter’s husband!”
Alice interrupted impatiently. “Look, could we talk about my problem for just a moment?”
Faye turned around. “Absolutely!”
“What’s up?” Marilyn asked.
“It’s about sex,” Alice murmured.
Faye and Marilyn drew close.
“This new man I’ve been seeing? Gideon Banks? I hardly know how to say this, it’s so painful. But, um, I don’t believ
e he finds me sexually attractive.”
“What makes you think that?” Faye asked.
“Well, he, uh, we saw a movie, and came back here, and sat down on the sofa, and he kissed me, and then he basically got up and left!”
“Oh my goodness!” Marilyn cried, clapping her hands to her cheeks. “I haven’t told you what happened with me and Faraday!” When Alice frowned at the interruption, she hurriedly added, “Wait, Alice, this might be relevant!” Leaning forward, she whispered, “Faraday delivered the most seductive, um, enticements, kissing and touching, and oh, it was delicious, and then he came inside, and came!”
Alice quirked an eyebrow. “And you’re upset because?”
“I mean instantly,” Marilyn clarified, glancing over her shoulder to be sure Faraday was still in the other room.
“That’s premature ejaculation,” Faye told her.
Alice nodded. “Yeah. That can be cured with time and patience. Unlike my problem, which is probably just that I’m too old and wrinkled—”
The doorbell rang. “I’ll get it, Mom,” Alan called.
“You’re not old, and you have hardly any wrinkles,” Faye began.
“If you want to see wrinkles,” Marilyn whispered, “try looking at your crotch with a mirror. I’ve never done it before, and it’s really pretty scary.”
“Well, girl, why would you want to look there in the first place?” Alice demanded.
“Because I never have!” Marilyn told her. “I’m trying to contemplate all angles. I mean, I painted my toenails, colored my hair, and shaved my legs. I read about bikini waxes and heart-shaped trims, which reminds me, I researched merkins, you know, pubic wigs? And they do exist. They—”
“Never mind that!” Alice snapped. “At least you’ve got a man who wants to go to bed with you! I—”
A large handsome man entered the kitchen. “Alice?” His voice rumbled like thunder.
The three women jumped apart like schoolgirls caught smoking in the bathroom.
Alice recovered first. “Gideon!”
Gideon wore jeans and a red-and-white-striped rugby shirt, which did a fine job of showing off his wide shoulders and muscular arms. “Sorry to barge in on you like this. I didn’t realize you were having a party.”
“It’s not a party, Gideon. It’s a business meeting.”
Laughter exploded from the living room, concluding with a baritone har-har-har and a soprano tee-hee.
“Right.” Gideon frowned but remained, bullish and determined, like a football coach getting ready to chew out his most disappointing players. “I phoned, but you didn’t return my call.”
“Oh, I, uh,” Alice stammered. This man made her feel so—so—so damned googly! She wanted to bat her eyelashes, giggle, and press her finger in a dimple in her cheek. What a mercy she had no dimples.
Gideon continued, “Look, I won’t take much of your time, but I wanted to explain my behavior last night.”
Alice stiffened defensively. “Not necessary.”
“Alice! Please. Listen to me, just a moment, all right?” He moved closer.
Marilyn was observing Gideon with undisguised interest.
“Marilyn,” Faye suggested brightly, “let’s uncork some more wine.”
“But it’s all already un—” Marilyn began.
Faye grabbed Marilyn’s arm and yanked her out of the kitchen.
As Marilyn and Faye left, Nora Salter toddled in. “Any more of those little crab things?” Her eyes raked appreciatively over Gideon.
“Maybe in the refrigerator,” Alice said. To Gideon, she said, “Let’s go to my room.”
They stole away from the crowd, down the hall, and into her bedroom. Alice shut the door and leaned up against it.
Gideon looked around the room. The one chair in her bedroom was covered with clothing, so he sat down on her queen-size bed and patted the spread. “Sit here next to me, Alice. Please.”
“Just say what you’ve got to say.”
“All right then, Alice, but listen, dammit.” He took a deep breath. “There’s nothing more I’d like to do than take you to bed.”
His bluntness caught her off guard.
“Right,” she sniffed, crossing her arms over her breasts.
“But—”
Here it comes, she thought, you’re too old, too bossy, too fat, too ugly—No, he wouldn’t be that cruel. He’d couch his rejection in kinder language. Perhaps, “You remind me of my mother,” or “I know I’d value you more as a friend.” She struggled to control her facial muscles, but her lower lip quivered.
“I had a doctor’s appointment yesterday. I have prostate cancer.”
Alice gasped. In a second, the world turned right side up, then upside down again. She sat down on the bed next to him. “Oh, shit, Gideon, that’s terrible.”
“Yes, yes it is. I don’t know how far advanced it is yet. They might have caught it early. Or maybe not. I’ve got to have a biopsy done. After that, well . . . Anyway, I don’t think I’ve quite absorbed the news yet. I find myself pretty much preoccupied. That’s why I asked if we could see a movie instead of going to the jazz club. I need a lot of time to take this in.”
“Only natural.” She put her hand on top of his.
“Last night, well, I am awfully attracted to you, Alice, I’m sure you’re aware of that. From the first moment I saw you. When we kissed, when I touched your remarkable breast, well, that made all kinds of sensations explode in my body, and to be truthful, that scared me out of my wits. I mean, I am uninformed about prostate cancer. I don’t think having sex will make the cancer spread, but any kind of commotion down there kind of alarms me. And I didn’t want to be pathetic about it, and dump it all on you right when we were having such a great time, so I left.”
“I’m glad you told me,” Alice said softly. “And I don’t think you’re pathetic.”
Gideon hesitated, then admitted in a very quiet voice, “Well, Alice, I am scared.”
“Of course you are! It’s only natural. But listen, Gideon, I know several men at TransContinent who’ve had prostate cancer, and they’re just fine!”
“Uh-huh. But can they still have sex?”
“Well, I never talked with them about that.”
“I’ve been scanning the information on the Internet,” Gideon said. “A large percentage of men who have prostate cancer, and have the operation to remove it, end up impotent. That’s a real possibility for me, Alice.”
“That’s tough.”
“Tough for me. Certainly it means you’re going to have to do some thinking. What kind of relationship are you looking for? Would you settle for companionship, if it comes to that? Or would sex be high on your list of priorities?”
Alice closed her eyes. Right then she felt like Gideon must have when he put his hand on her breast, attracted, yet terrified. She scarcely knew this man, and she wasn’t good at wiping-the-fevered-brow stuff.
“Mom?”
She opened her eyes. Her son was peering into the room.
“Mom, there’s someone here to see you.”
“Alan, I’m busy right—”
“She says her name’s Alison Cummings.”
Alice’s jaw dropped.
“I put her in your office,” Alan informed her. “She said she won’t take long.”
Alice’s brain dissolved into porridge.
“You go on,” Gideon urged.
“Well. Maybe for a minute. There’s lots of food and drinks in the living room. It’s a Golden Moments party.”
“I’ll wait right here, if it’s okay with you. I don’t feel much like mingling.”
“I’ll hurry.” Alice gave him a quick hug, which felt so warm and wonderful she could hardly pull herself away. She checked her reflection in the mirror and left the bedroom.
From the sounds in the living room, everyone was still having a good time. She crossed the hall and opened the door to her office.
Alison the Young and Beautiful waited there in all he
r sleek, slender glory. Clad in one of her figure-hugging red power suits, she stood straight and proud in her four-inch heels. Her youthful beauty radiated a kind of golden gleam, a light shield of protection. She seemed invulnerable and untouchable, and for the first time Alice understood how her own beauty in her earlier days might have kept people from becoming her friend, for why would someone so godlike need mortal alliances?
“Well?” Alice stayed in the doorway, ready to usher the other woman out of her office, her home, and her life.
Alison clasped her hands in front of her in a surprisingly beseeching manner. “Alice, I want you to come back to TransWorld. I need your help.”
Alice was so surprised she burst out laughing.
“It’s not funny,” Alison protested. “I could lose my job if you don’t help me.”
“Why should I care?” Alice shot back.
“Look.” Alison clenched her fists at her sides. “I was never after your job. Barton Baker was after your job!”
“He’s your secretary!”
“True. He doesn’t have my credentials, my experience, or my know-how! But he’s sneaky and wildly ambitious!”
“And you’re not.”
“No!” Alison glared defiantly, then admitted, “Okay, I am ambitious. But I haven’t resorted to duplicity. I certainly didn’t tell him to sleep with Marilyn to find out what you were up to! That was all his own idea.”
Alice shrugged. “Well, we paid him back.”
“You did? How?”
“We sent that e-mail about his pectoral implants.”
“You did?” Alison staggered backward, making a noise like a wounded duck.
“Are you okay?”
“You think that hurt him?”
“Embarrassed him, at least.”
Alison shook her head so hard her entire body quaked. “Melvin Watertown and the other honchos are impressed! They think it shows Barton’s devotion to the company, that he’ll do whatever it takes to look young and virile! They want him to take over the position you held!”
