“Yes, you are,” Frankie added, and Rachael agreed.
All eyes were on Amy. “So? What about you? Have you found geek love?” Nina asked.
“Nah. Most of the guys I meet are asexual or indifferent.”
“Funny how things change. When we were in high school, we had to beat the boys away with a stick.” Frankie laughed.
“That’s because you weren’t so intimidating back then.” Rachael poked fun at her friend.
They leaned conspiratorially toward each other, ignoring everything that was going on around them, and caught up on the past fifteen years.
After high school, Rachael Newmark had attended NYU. After she graduated, she had traveled to South America, where she met a suave but unemployed Paulo. With her trust-fund maturity on the near horizon, her parents clamped down on her escapades, forcing her father to hire a private jet to bring her back home. Following weeks of pouting, Rachael realized that if she ever wanted the money left to her by her grandmother, she needed to think about settling down. The thought sent chills up her spine, but reality had set in. She took a job at a bank, working in their international department, and began dating one of the accountants. She wasn’t madly, passionately in love with Greg, but he was steady and would be a good provider. Love was not her parents’ main concern. Stability was. A year later, they got married.
Two years after getting married, they had a son, but being a stay-at-home mom just wasn’t her thing. She was restless and needed a purpose, something Greg couldn’t understand. Greg left the bank and went to work for an independent accounting firm. Rachael’s parents thought it would “look better” for Greg in their social circle if he worked at a high-powered company. If she wanted, Rachael could be a local socialite, join the garden club or the Junior League. But Rachael’s personality was not compatible with women who were prim, proper, and phony. Especially phony.
Before Ryan started school, Rachael would arrange playdates with other moms and kids, but after a period of time, she would get bored with the vacuous conversations and move on to another group.
By the time Ryan entered kindergarten, Rachael was ready to climb the walls, so she took a part-time job at the local dance studio. She had always been an excellent dancer and had taken lessons in jazz, ballroom, and a variety of other disciplines. By the time she was eight, her parents had her schedule completely filled. Dancing lessons, piano lessons, tennis lessons, and water skiing were planned. Tutoring in foreign languages was also on her calendar. It was no surprise that she had rebelled after graduating.
Of all the extracurricular activities, it was the dancing that made her feel alive. She could lose herself in the music and the moves. Plus, it was important to know how to dance, especially when you had to attend galas and fundraisers. It wasn’t surprising that she was everyone’s favorite dance partner.
Within two years of working at Salon de la Danse, her classes became so popular that there was a six-month waiting list if you wanted to learn to salsa, rumba, or swing. People of all ages were clamoring for Rachael’s dancing excitement.
But when Rachael was home with Greg, the only excitement was the argument du jour. It became obvious that their marriage wasn’t going to last, at least not without a lot of door slamming, yelling, and sulking.
Finally, after an uncomfortable dust-up at the country club, Rachael’s family intervened and encouraged her to get a divorce. They could see the pain in their daughter’s eyes whenever she and Greg would meet them at a social event or dinner. Her father took her aside and said, “Sweetheart, your mother and I have been talking.” That sentence was always a warning signal, but this time it worked to her favor. “We can see how unhappy you are, Rachael. I know your mother and I pressured you into getting married and having a family. But we never expected it to make you this miserable. It’s the last thing we want. We will help you with whatever resources you need, particularly a good lawyer.”
Rachael was shocked and elated. Never in a million years did she think her parents would approve of a divorce. You made your miserable bed and now you have to lie in it was a much better summation of their take on life. But getting married hadn’t really been her choice. She had been pressured into it. Yes, her parents wanted stability for her, but they hadn’t counted on the misery that went with it.
Aaron Newmark was a man of his word and provided Rachael the counsel of the best divorce attorney in the state, Lloyd Luttrell.
She and Greg tried to keep the divorce civilized, although Rachael was always seething when it came to Greg. Over the course of their marriage, Greg had spent a good chunk of Rachael’s trust fund buying luxury cars and expensive designer clothes. That, too, caused a great deal of contention. He said it was important to look rich. No one was going to trust a poor-looking accountant. He had a point, but he had carried it much too far. He was supposed to be the breadwinner and she the dutiful wife, whose half-million-dollar bank account was at his disposal. As soon as the smell of divorce was in the air, Rachael’s father and her lawyer tied up all of her assets so Greg could no longer treat them as his personal piggy bank. They sold the elaborate McMansion they had bought with part of Rachael’s trust fund and put some of the money away for Ryan’s college education. Greg was lucky to get out of the marriage with the fancy designer shirt on his back.
To that day, Rachael had never had a total grasp on how much of her money he had milked. She knew she was complicit by not paying attention. But still. It was not his money to spend.
Once the divorce was final, Rachael used the rest of the money from the sale of the house to buy the dance studio from its owner. She renovated the space and hired more instructors, and the studio doubled its clientele in less than a year. It helped that she was located near a senior-citizen community with most residents only in their midfifties. Part of the studio’s service was planning dance parties for organizations. Rachael had finally hit her stride.
The women stared at Rachael. Nina was the first to speak. “Wow, he really took advantage of your family’s money.”
“Oh, that’s not all.” Rachael tossed her head back. “He was cheating on me the whole time.”
Screams of “What?” “Are you kidding?” “You can’t be serious!” went around the table.
Rachael crossed her arms across her chest. “No, I’m not kidding, and yes, I am serious.”
“Holy smokes!” Amy broke in. “How did you find out?”
“It all came out after the divorce. A few people knew about it, but no one had ever told me. And frankly, I do not care. I had no physical interest in him at all.” She paused. “Probably ever.” She burst out laughing. “Talk about stupid choices.”
Frankie chimed in and lifted her glass. “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger!” The rest followed suit, uttering words of cheer.
It was now Frankie’s turn to catch the women up on her escapades. She had moved to New York after graduating from the University of Miami. She auditioned for musicals and got a few small parts in Off-Broadway shows, but that and temp work paid very little, forcing her to live with a variety of roommates, two to three people at a time. One summer, Frankie rented a bedroom in a large two-bedroom apartment on the Upper West Side. They had divided it up so that Dave and Laura would have the living room as their space, Marilyn would have the other bedroom, and they shared a ridiculously small kitchenette. It wasn’t ideal, but it was doable for the few months she was there.
Finding a suitable place to live was a full-time job. She eventually moved into a duplex with a work associate and stayed for several years until she was able to afford a modest studio apartment in Gramercy Park.
Frankie and Rachael had stayed in touch and met for lunch a couple of times a year, so they were familiar with each other’s horror stories. Rachael was getting impatient and urged Frankie, “Cut to the chase. We want to hear your stories. I know you have a few lulus.”
Frankie took a deep breath. “Are you sure you want to hear the gory details?” Nina and Amy urged her on
. Frankie confessed that she had been through a boatload of relationships, affairs, heartbreaks, and deceptions. New York. Lots of men. It was easy to meet someone at a bar, club, event, or concert. Learning about someone was another story, especially with most New Yorkers her age coming from all parts of the country and the rest of the world. She often thought it was ironic that someone could be in the biggest city in the country and still feel lonely and isolated. That’s probably why she was eager to have something meaningful with someone. Too bad she had made a lot of lousy choices in her pursuits. Frankie continued, “Then there was the medical intern who had not one but two other girlfriends.”
“Two?” Amy gasped.
“Yes, two.” Frankie took a sip of her drink.
“How did you find out?” Amy was curious.
“I had spent the night at his apartment. The next morning, he left before me. I opened the door to the linen closet to get a towel.”
“Oh sure. You were spying.” Rachael poked her.
“No. Honestly,” Frankie continued. “I was getting a towel and noticed a small container on one of the shelves.” She took a sip of her drink. “It was a diaphragm.” Another sip, waiting for a reaction from her friends.
“A what?” Amy blurted.
Nina patted her hand. “Oh, honey. It’s one of those contraceptive contraptions that women use so they don’t get pregnant.”
“I know what a diaphragm is. Duh,” Amy shot back. “I was kidding.”
Nina patted her hand again and turned to Frankie. “So what did you do?”
“I did what any other red-blooded woman would do. I took it with me and threw it in a dumpster several blocks away.”
The women were doubled over in hysterics. Frankie continued, “I never said a word to him. I figured he would be squirming enough when she went looking for it.”
Nina was laughing so hard, tears were streaming down her face.
“Did he call you?” Rachael tilted her head.
“Yes, he did.” Frankie played with the small straw in her glass.
“Spill, girl!” Amy was almost shouting. “What happened?”
“I didn’t answer the phone but he left me a voice mail saying how immature it was of me to take someone else’s property.”
Amy’s mouth was agape. “He said what?”
“You heard me. But, I must say, I got a lot of satisfaction out of that call. He was so pissed. Too bad, too sad. Such a jerk.”
“So how did you know he had been seeing two other women?” Amy asked curiously.
“A friend of mine. One could say it was a coincidence, but think about this. New York City has a population of eight million people, and over ten thousand doctors.”
Nina pushed, “Get to the good part!”
“As I was saying, a friend of mine was introduced to him at a hospital function. He was with a woman named Victoria. Well, while they were chitchatting, a woman named Michelle walked up to him and slapped him in the face.” Frankie sat back in her chair with a wry smile.
“Wow.” Nina gasped. “Well, at least he got the slap he deserved.”
“Yeah, too bad it wasn’t from me.” Frankie chuckled. “I felt vindicated without having to do anything except dispose of something gross. It’s funny. Odd, I mean. I wasn’t angry. I was stunned. But when I tossed that thing in the garbage, I felt elated just thinking about how he was going to talk his way out of its absence.”
“He sounds like a real piece of work,” Nina observed.
“Yes, indeed. I pity his patients. Now he’s a psychiatrist.”
The women almost spit out their drinks. “Seriously?” Amy barked.
“Yep.” Frankie nodded. “I feel like I dodged a bullet with that one. And several others, I suppose.”
Silence fell across the table.
Frankie’s eyes twinkled. “I have an idea.”
“Uh-oh,” Amy said.
“I know we all hate Internet dating . . .”
Nina held up her hand. “I am going to stop you right there, girl. There is a NO DIVING sign at the dating pool.” The women laughed.
“Seriously. Listen,” Frankie went on. “Let’s make a pact. I know this is probably something we swore we would never do. But”—she took a deep breath—“if none of us have dates for New Year’s Eve by this Thanksgiving, we’ll go on a singles cruise together.”
“What?” Nina’s eyes almost bugged out.
“Huh?” came from Amy.
“Count me in,” Rachael said, jumping at the idea.
“Really. What’s the worst that can happen? We’ll have fun, get a tan, and come home with some duty-free perfume,” Frankie assured them.
“That could be fun,” Nina agreed. “It’s only June now, so we have plenty of time to either ruin our lives again with a man or get ourselves into bathing-suit shape.”
A groan went around the table. “OK. So we’ll wear sarongs,” Nina added.
“And cover-ups,” Amy said.
“And big hats,” Frankie suggested.
“Let’s not forget the dark sunglasses.” Rachael put her two cents in.
“Caribbean?” Frankie asked. “We can meet up in Miami and take one of those four-or-five-day singles cruises. Come on! Like I said, the worst that can happen is we get a tan.”
“Or tossed in the drink for being too rowdy.” Nina chuckled.
Rachael clapped. “I love it!”
“Don’t get too excited there, missy. We’ll keep you on a tight leash,” Nina said.
“Ha. Isn’t the whole point to have some fun?” Rachael protested.
“Absolutely!” Frankie was pleased with her idea, and her friends were enthusiastic about it, too. “It will be like The Love Boat with eggnog.”
The women reached across the table and grabbed each other’s hands. “Pinky swear!” They locked fingers the same way they had in high school when they set out to accomplish something.
Frankie surveyed the room. “I think our work here is done. Are any of you staying here at this hotel?”
“I’m at my folks’,” Amy replied.
“I’m at a B and B off Henshaw Drive,” Rachael said.
“I’m at the Courtyard,” Nina put in.
“Oh good. So am I. I couldn’t get a room here, which is fine. I don’t know if I want to keep running into people I don’t remember,” Frankie said almost apologetically. “Let’s go over to the Courtyard and hang out. I don’t see anyone or anything worth pursuing here.” She giggled.
“Splendid idea,” Nina agreed.
“Pajama party?” Amy almost begged.
“I have two beds in my room. You can join me, but won’t your mother be upset?” Frankie asked.
“You mean my mother and Mister Charm? Nah. They’re at the club. I’ll send her a text so she won’t worry.”
Rachael frowned for a moment. “Can I come and play, too?”
Nina put her arm around Rachael. “Sure thing, babe. I also have an extra bed.”
In unison, they high-fived each other, grabbed their purses, and headed toward the door when a loud voice came over the speaker. “Let’s all say hello to the famous Nina Hunter!”
Hoots and applause filled the room.
“Uh-oh. I thought we could make a quick getaway,” Nina said with clenched teeth, feigning a smile. “Hello, everyone!” She made her way up to the podium while the three other women waited near the exit.
“It’s so nice to see all these familiar faces,” Nina lied, with a big, bright smile. Frankie was stifling a laugh. Then Nina said, “Let’s have a round of applause for the reunion committee. Didn’t they do a great job?” Lots of clapping, whistling, and cheers filled the room. Once the noise subsided, Nina ended her impromptu appearance with, “I trust everyone tunes in on Thursday night for a half hour of laughs and crazy family fun! See you on the boob tube! Enjoy the evening! Be safe!” She gave a wave and stepped away from the microphone as the group gave her the appropriate applause. She hustled toward her friends to
make a quick getaway in case other people wanted to talk to her. In spite of her big personality and her love for theater and acting, Nina was basically shy. She said it was her acting skills that helped her deal with people.
As the four women exited the hotel, Frankie pulled up her Uber app and ordered a car to pick them up. When they got to the Courtyard, they raided the minibars in their rooms, settled in, and made plans for their seafaring adventure.
Chapter Two
August
Santa Clara, California
The women kept in close touch over the summer. Rachael had already gone through two boyfriends in two months, so odds were she might ditch the cruise for boyfriend number seven. Nina was still flying solo, and there were no prospects on the horizon for Frankie. Nina was waiting to hear about a part for which she had auditioned, but Frankie and Amy decided that even if the other women bailed, they would still be going on the cruise. The opportunity to get a suntan, lounge on deck chairs while being served pretty drinks with tiny umbrellas, and bring home duty-free perfume was all the encouragement they needed.
Since Amy’s parents’ divorce, the holidays were stressful, what with trying to balance out how much time she would spend with each one. She wasn’t fond of her mother’s new boyfriend, and her father was always traveling on business, which was what had led to their divorce. At least that’s what her mother used as an excuse. For the past few years, their marriage had been hit-or-miss, mostly miss, but that was fine with Amy.
Normally, she would be spending the holidays with friends or helping out at the local animal shelter so the staff could spend time with their families. She felt a little guilty that she would not be there this year, but she offered to work during Thanksgiving weekend to make up for it. She enjoyed preparing a special meal for the pooches and purrs. It was a tradition at the shelter. In spite of the dogs’ yapping, it was still a serene place to spend a holiday, especially since Amy had no other place to be.
After the animals were fed and the dishes removed, she would sit in the cattery and visit with the cats. The cattery was a large, twenty-by-twenty-four-foot sun-filled room with perches, scratching posts, and toys. There were always at least two dozen cats and kittens lounging about. Amy would sit in the middle of the floor and play with the cats, using a small fishing rod with a funny-looking toy attached. The cats would jump and somersault and chase their tails.
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