The Hot Flash Club (20 page)

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me!” Laura sobbed. “I thought I could be like
you
, I thought I could be
better
than you! I wanted so many children, and now I can’t even handle one!”

Faye walked her daughter to the bed, found a tissue for her, then sat beside her, her arm around her. “Have you talked with your doctor about this?”

Laura sniffed. “He says all new mothers are tired.”

Faye nodded. “That’s true.”

“No, actually, it’s not!” Laura crushed the tissue in her hand angrily. “Clara’s baby is only three months old and already sleeping through the night! Dominique’s little boy is six months, and she’s already back at work, teaching! And you’ve always told me what a good little baby I was, you never had any problems at all.”

Faye smiled, staring out the window, as if watching the past flash by. “You
were
a good little baby. But I’m sure I had problems, and doubts. I’m sure I was exhausted. As you get older, you remember the good times and the hard times somehow just fade.”

“You had Daddy. Daddy always loved you, he never—”

A thin wail from the first floor interrupted Laura, who, to Faye’s surprise, clenched her fists tight.

“She’s only been asleep for thirty minutes! I can’t stand it, Mom! I can’t do this, I’m too tired, I’m going to lose my mind!”

Faye was heartsick for her daughter, and she was worried. “Look, honey. Why don’t you lie down here and take a long nap? I’ll tend to Megan.”

“No,” Laura sobbed wearily, “I have to nurse her.” She sounded as if she had to walk a hundred miles.

“All right then, nurse her, while I fix you some cinnamon toast.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Laura pushed her lank hair back from her face and blew her nose.

Faye hurried down to the family room. She snapped off the blaring television, picked up her screaming granddaughter, and carried her, on her hip, into the kitchen. Sorrow and fear for her daughter swamped her. At the same time irritation burned like acid reflux in her throat. Thank God she was going to see the HFC that night.

32

The emergency meeting of the Hot Flash Club convened Friday night in Alice’s living room. One by one they arrived, ignoring the spectacular view of Boston Harbor and collapsing on the sofas, as if too exhausted to move a step farther.

Faye was the most presentable, in jeans and flannel shirt stained with baby food. Marilyn’s orange turtleneck, burgundy plaid trousers, and sagging pink cardigan hurt the eyes. Shirley was remarkably colorless, in black leggings and a gray T-shirt.

With a thud, Alice set the coffeepot on the coffee table next to the cups, spoons, milk, and sugar she’d already brought out, then dropped into a chair. She knew she looked sloppy in her loose brown sweat suit. She didn’t care.

For a moment, no one spoke.

Then Faye asked, “Where’s Alan?”

“Out for the evening,” Alice murmured.

“How’s he doing?” Shirley inquired.

“Better. He’s looking for an apartment and checking out job possibilities. With an MBA and all his experience, he won’t have to settle for anything but the best.”

“He likes the high-power stuff?” Shirley asked.

Alice looked surprised at the question. “Well, of course!”

“So Alan’s doing all right. That’s
good
.” Faye sounded artificially cheerful, like the coach of a losing team.

“Yeah,” Alice agreed.

Then they just sat, staring down at the floor. Faye scanned their faces: Alice scowled. Marilyn sagged. Shirley was listless.

Faye tried again. “Hot Flash Club? More like No Clue Club.”

No one laughed.

“Okay,” Faye said briskly. “I don’t know what’s going on with the rest of you, but I, for one, have something positive to report!” She turned to the stimulating clash of colors on her right. “Marilyn, I’ve lived intimately with the Eastbrooks for three weeks now, and I can say with certainty that Lila truly loves your son.”

Marilyn perked up. “Really?”

“Really.”

“That’s wonderful!” Marilyn said, and burst into tears.

Surprised, Faye asked, “Honey, what’s wrong?” Marilyn could hardly speak for sobbing. “I ruined Alice’s life!”

Faye glanced at Alice for confirmation.

Alice nodded grimly. “True. She cost me my job.”

Astonished, Faye asked, “How?”

Alice jerked her chin toward Marilyn. “She was supposed to get information about Alison from Barton, remember? Instead, she lets Barton seduce her, she tells him
everything
, and
he
tells Alison, who tells my superior, who decides I’ve ‘lost my vision’ and
retires
me.”

“I’m sorry, Alice. So sorry.” Marilyn wept. “I thought he—” She was too humiliated to continue.

“That’s terrible,” Faye murmured. “Still, we ought to be able to do something about it.” She chewed on her thumbnail, thinking.

“I don’t have good news, either,” Shirley announced somberly.

Faye looked at Shirley.

Shirley nodded. “Sorry. Jennifer D’Annucio
is
having an affair with your son-in-law.”

Faye’s face crumpled. “I’m not surprised.”

Shirley felt tears sting her eyes. “What a mess everything is!”

“But the Golden Moments meeting went off beautifully!” Alice said.

“Yes, but Julie Martin won’t invest any money in my retreat!”

“And I—” Marilyn began, but couldn’t go on. “Oh, Alice,” she wailed, “I’m so sorry!”

Alice took a deep breath. “It’s not your fault, Marilyn.”

“Of course it is!”

Abruptly, Alice left the room. She returned with a box of tissues she handed to Marilyn. “Come on, Marilyn, cheer up. The truth of the matter is,
I
got myself retired. You’re only a human being, Marilyn, and you tried your best, and I
did
find out that Alison wants my job, so you could say you completed your HFC assignment.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Marilyn murmured. “Will you forgive me?”

“I’d better. Life’s too short, and I have too few friends to do without you.”

“Why, Alice, that’s admirable,” Faye said.

“And surprising,” Shirley added.

“Thanks,”
Alice said sarcastically, throwing a caustic look Shirley’s way.

Shirley just grinned.

Marilyn dried her eyes. “God, what a weight off my mind. And what a relief that Lila loves Teddy.”

“But there is a problem,” Faye reluctantly admitted. “Well, not a problem. Just a—complication. Or maybe not—”

“Just spit it out,” Alice advised.

“Lila has a younger sister confined to a wheelchair and slightly deformed. The Eastbrooks are afraid Teddy won’t marry her if he knows.”

Marilyn put her hands to her cheeks. “What happened?”

“She was born with spina bifada. Dora’s bright, she’s good-natured, she’s mentally acute. But physically crippled.”

“Oh, the poor little thing.” A thought struck Marilyn. “Is it my responsibility to inform Teddy?”

“Is it
my
responsibility to inform my daughter that her husband’s definitely having an affair with Jennifer D’Annucio?” Faye asked.

Marilyn said, “My son believes we should all live our lives according to
Star Trek
’s Prime Directive.”

“Which is what?” Shirley asked.

“Briefly stated,
Do Not Interfere.
”

The four women were quiet for a moment, thinking.

Then Alice slapped her hand on the coffee table, making them all jump.

“Hell, no! We’ve got over two hundred years of wisdom in this room. I think the Prime Directive of the Hot Flash Club should be—”

They said it all together.
“In—ter—fere!”

They smiled at one another, blasting the mood-swamping emotional fog right out of the room.

“Phase Two begins now,” Alice announced decisively. “I’ll get my notebook.”

Faye stood up, hooking her purse over her shoulder. “And I’m running out to get some chocolate.”

“Good idea,” Marilyn said. “I’ll go with you.”

“Me too,” Shirley said.

“I’ll make a batch of strawberry daiquiris,” Alice said. “And for you, Shirley, I’ll concoct an alcohol-free Strawberry Slurpy Supreme.”

“What’s that?” Shirley asked.

“I don’t know. I’m going to invent it right now.” Alice headed into her kitchen.

The other three women raced away.

Thirty minutes later, Shirley, Faye, and Marilyn returned with their arms full of grocery bags. They set out éclairs, cakes, mousse, pie, cookies, candies, and cartons of ice cream. They raided Alice’s kitchen, carrying out plates, bowls, serving spoons, spoons, forks, and napkins.

Alice presented them with two pitchers of cheery pink drinks and wineglasses misted from the freezer.

For a while, the only sound was the clink of silver against china and contented murmurs.

It was Alice who finally put down her spoon and picked up her pen and pad of paper. “All right, ladies,” she said, licking her lips, “let’s get to work. And Shirley, don’t eat all that Black Forest cake. I haven’t had any yet. Try the mousse.”

Shirley saluted and obeyed.

“Now.” Alice began scribbling. “First. Faye wanted to know whether her son-in-law’s having an affair with another woman, and Shirley investigated.”

“And she found out,” Marilyn added. “She completed her assignment.”

“You pulled it off, Shirley,” Alice agreed. “Good for you.”

“That’s right,” Faye agreed. “I might not like what she discovered, but she did find out the truth. Thank you, Shirley.”

Shirley blinked rapidly, as the information streaked into her brain like light beams. “I did!”

Alice looked at Faye. “So now we have to move on to the next step, which is what to do about it.”

“I’m not sure I can blame Lars,” Faye told them. “My daughter’s depressed. She’s not at all like her normal self.”

“Postpartum depression perhaps,” Marilyn suggested. “Could be treated with drugs, if she’s not nursing. Prozac, maybe.”

“She’s nursing,” Faye said.

“So she puts the kid on the bottle,” Alice advised briskly.

“She could try herbal remedies,” Shirley added.

“She should spend some time alone with her husband.” Alice was making notes. “
You’ve
got money, Faye. Get Laura to a doctor. Get her on some meds. Hire a baby-sitter, send Laura and Lars away for a honeymoon weekend.”

“Right,” Faye agreed, nodding. “And if Lars wants to tell her about his affair, he can.” She looked up at the group. “What if Laura can’t accept that he’s had an affair?”

“That’s up to Laura,” Marilyn replied.

“Fine, but he should
end
the affair.” Alice tapped her pen like a gavel.

“Absolutely,” Faye agreed. “But how—”

“Hey.” Shirley moved to the edge of the sofa. “I have an idea. Jennifer’s a nice girl, trust me on this. Why don’t we have another little party? For Golden Moments. She came to the last one. She brought those amazing brownies. She drove Julie Martin home. You didn’t come to the last Golden Moments meeting, Faye, but come this time, and bring
Megan
. I think when this girl sees the baby, she’ll do some serious thinking. Maybe
she’ll
dump him!”

“Good idea,” Faye said. “But invite lots of people so Jennifer doesn’t guess it’s a setup.”

“Lots of people is great,” Shirley added.

“Jennifer and Alan met when she brought the canapés for the Golden Moments meeting. They hit it off. I’ll have him invite her.” Alice pointed her pen at the other three women. “Each of you contact a few new people and invite them to this meeting.” She made a check on her list. “Now. Marilyn. Let’s look at—”

“Theodore’s having an affair,” Marilyn blurted. “That’s why I slept with Barton. Well, one reason why. Oh, God, how could I have thought anyone would be attracted to me! I’ve made a fool of myself!”

“Don’t be silly!” Faye chided. “You look gorgeous now, Marilyn. Or at least you did when you wore the clothes we chose for you. This outfit is, well, a little—”

“Repulsive,” Shirley mumbled around a spoonful of chocolate.

Marilyn tugged the corner of the pink cardigan. “Clothes are that important?”

“Absolutely,” Alice said. “They telegraph your identity.”

“Cosmetics, too,” Faye added. “That shade of lipstick looks great on you, Marilyn, it brightens your face.”

Shirley wiped her mouth and turned to Marilyn. “Look at me. If I didn’t have my hair colored red, people wouldn’t have the same kind of trust in me. Gray tells them I’m old. Red means I’m still vital. I’ve been coloring my hair for ten years now, and I think it’s so important, I carry a note card in my purse with my hairdresser’s name and phone number and the formula of the hair product she uses. That way, in case I’m ever hospitalized with my jaw wired shut, people will know what to do to keep me looking good.”

Alice laughed. “You know those little silver ‘Medic Alert’ bracelets people wear in case of emergencies, saying, ‘I’m a diabetic,’ or ‘I’m allergic to penicillin’? We ought to market a ‘Cosmetic Alert’ bracelet, so if we’re ever hospitalized, someone will know our hair color and makeup preferences.”

“Good idea,” Shirley said.

“But we’ll never look
young
again,” Marilyn pointed out sensibly.

“And we shouldn’t try to look young,” Alice retorted. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t look like fabulous women of a certain age.”

“Hats,” Faye mused, helping herself to another slice of cake. “Remember when women wore hats? My mother had this great little hat, I’ve seen photos of her in it, it
tilted
, and it had a polka dot net veil. She looked so glamorous!”

“I wore hats when I was younger,” Alice reminisced. “Way younger. When I was a little girl, I wore them to church, especially on Easter.”

“All the glamorous women wore them when we were young,” Faye said. “Jacqueline Kennedy. Myrna Loy.”

“Oh, please! Doris Day!” Shirley yelped. “The perpetual virgin! I hated those damned pillboxes. So rigid, so uptight.” She stuck her finger in her mouth and made gagging noises. “We all rebelled and let our hair free, and we aren’t going back.”

“I’m glad I’m not younger now,” Marilyn volunteered. “Forget hats. Look at what young women are wearing these days! Never in my life did I have the kind of belly I’d expose in public, showcased between low riding pants and cropped tops. What do they do when they’re bloated with their periods? And how do they keep their underpants on?”

“And what about thongs!” Shirley shrieked.

“Talk about a hair up your ass,” Alice muttered.

“I love my stomachs,” Faye said in a meditative voice. “When I think of all the good stuff that’s gone on there. Carrying my baby.” She patted Honey and Bunny fondly. “Eating and drinking. And bad stuff, too, all my painful periods.”

“Your second chakra is there,” Shirley pointed out.

“Of course it is.” Alice rolled her eyes.

“Look,” Shirley continued bravely, “the chakras are energy centers in the body. There are seven, and the one located in your abdomen, lower back, and sexual organs control desire, sensations, movement, emotions, and sexuality. It’s related to water, and it brings the ability to accept change.”

“God knows we need
that
,” Alice said.

“We ought to be proud of that chakra,” Faye said. “If fashion were designed by older women, we’d wear caftans with gorgeous designs right here over the bellies, and women wouldn’t be allowed to wear them until they were fifty.”

“But we’re back where we started,” Marilyn objected. “Women wouldn’t wear them because then men wouldn’t desire them. They all want young women. They’re biologically programmed that way.”

Faye wagged her fork at Marilyn. “I disagree. Maybe when they’re young, they want young women. Well, maybe all their lives they
want
young women, just like all their lives they basically want to fuck every female they see, but that doesn’t mean they act on it. I know Jack wouldn’t have chased young women after he turned fifty-five or so. He was too tired. Like me, he often just wanted a back rub.”

Shirley hooted. “The last few men I’ve been with? They’ve been younger than fifty, for sure, and here’s what they like: beer, sports, pizza, and blow jobs, in that order. Hell, they spend more time taking a dump than making love.”