Toots brought the pot of coffee to the table. “I didn’t mean it that way. I meant we always tell one another when there’s something special going on in our lives.” She circled the table, refilling their mugs with coffee.
“Don’t say one word, Sophia,” Toots murmured as she filled her dear friend’s cup. “Got it?”
Sophie rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her coffee. “This is disgusting. It tastes like elephant poo.”
“How would you know what elephant poo tastes like?” Toots innocently asked.
Goebel snickered, and Robert joined in. Bernice shook her head disapprovingly.
“It can’t be any worse than this crap. It amazes me how some people think of something as gourmet, like this stuff, and another, such as myself, classifies this as crap. And, no, I have not tasted elephant poop, but had I, I’m sure it would taste like this coffee.”
Goebel spoke up. “Ah, Sophie, don’t be too hard on Tootsie. Remember those slimy raw oysters you eat. I, for one, am sure they taste like snot.”
When Toots had envisioned lightheartedness, she truly hadn’t thought of elephant feces, but it took the attention away from the malevolent force that lurked in Sophie and Goebel’s home. “I agree, Goebel. You couldn’t pay me enough to put one of those nasty-looking things in my mouth,” Toots said, just to keep the diverting conversation rolling along. “Now, Bernice, are you going to tell us what your secret is, or are we going to have to beat it out of you?”
“You’re so darn nosy, Toots. When the time is right, Robert and I will tell you. For now, just forget it,” Bernice said.
Toots wasn’t going to argue with her or try to drag it out of her, at least not now. There were far more important issues to deal with. Whatever Bernice and Robert’s secret was would simply have to wait.
The back door slammed, and they all turned to see Ida, minus Daniel. “What things are we putting in our mouth today?” she asked, clearly having been there for a few minutes, or at least long enough to hear that part of their conversation.
“I think we should be asking you that question,” Sophie said. “And speaking of things, where is your boy toy today?”
As was the norm, Ida was dressed to kill. Not a single strand of platinum blond hair dared to stray from her perfectly cut bob. A walking advertisement for Seasons—her line of cosmetics and skin-care products that had put her name alongside such icons as Estée Lauder and Coco Chanel—she looked svelte, confident. Today she was wearing a mint-green sheath dress that hugged curves that would rival those of a twenty-year-old, and matching high-heeled sandals. A slim coral wristlet dangled from her slender arm. The only mar on her otherwise unblemished appearance—her coral lipstick was smeared on her lower lip.
“I see you’ve got sex on the brain as usual,” Ida commented dryly. “Goebel, is she not woman enough for you?” Ida asked, then winked.
“I see you’re still a slut,” Sophie shot back. “Don’t even think about coming on to my husband, Ida. He doesn’t like women like you anyway,” she added with a smirk.
“Women like me?” Ida chirped. “Exactly what would that be?”
Toots took control of the conversation before the two started another verbal war. “Both of you put a cork in the festering holes beneath your noses, okay? We’ve heard all of this before, and it never, ever leads to anything positive.”
“She’s right. You two need to kiss and make up,” Goebel said.
Sophie’s eyes about popped out of her head. “Make up, maybe. Kiss, never!”
Ida sat in a chair next to Toots. She took a praline from the plate in the center of the table, crammed it in her mouth, oblivious to the shocked expressions on everyone’s face, then repeated herself. “What are you all staring at? Haven’t you ever seen a woman enjoy something sweet?” Ida asked, then, before they could answer, she took another handful of pralines and proceeded to cram them in her mouth, one after another, barely chewing them before she swallowed. She reached for Toots’s mug of coffee, downed what remained, then slammed the mug down. “What? Why are you all staring at me?”
Sophie was the first to speak. “I’ve known you for more than fifty years. In all those years, I have never, ever seen you display such a lack of manners. What in the hell has come over you?”
With pieces of praline stuck to her chin and mouth, Ida seemed to really consider Sophie’s question. “I think I should be the one asking you that question. I was just at your place, and it looked like a tornado had gone through it. The kitchen cabinets were open, broken dishes were scattered all over the kitchen floor, and the smell was atrocious. You should take more pride in your home, Sophia, but now that you mention it, ever since I left your house, I’ve felt strange, a bit disoriented. I hope I don’t catch a bug from your nastiness.”
Chapter Five
Tuesday, September 6, 1955
Bishop Verot Catholic School
New Jersey
“What makes you think they want to be rescued?” Teresa asked her new and only friend.
Sophia dropped her smoke on the sidewalk and stomped on it. “Look at ’em. They look like they’re scared shitless.”
Teresa laughed. Sophia sure had a way with words. For this reason alone, she wouldn’t invite her home. At least not yet. Tomorrow, she might change her mind. One thing was for sure—seventh grade wasn’t going to be nearly as boring as she had thought only that morning.
“If you say so,” was the only reply she could come up with. She watched the pair. They did look a little frightened. Maybe, like her, they were new to this school.
“Follow me,” Sophia instructed.
Together, they strode across the schoolyard, stopping when they reached the two girls. The tall blonde with perfectly even features recoiled in obvious fear when she saw them. The other girl, short with strawberry-blond hair, a round face, and eyes that sparkled with mischief, grinned, then took the tall blond girl’s hand in hers. “Hi,” she said in such a friendly way that Teresa liked her immediately.
“Hey,” she said, then held out her hand the way her mother taught her to do when introductions were made. “I’m Teresa Loudenberry and this”—she nodded to Sophia, who was busy scrutinizing the two—“is Sophia De Luca.”
The girls stared at one another for a few seconds before the strawberry blonde broke the silence. Following Teresa’s lead, she held out her hand. “I’m Mavis Chapman, and this is Ida. This is our first day of Catholic school.”
“Mine too,” Teresa said, just to reassure the pair. They did look a bit on the shaky side.
“Yeah? Well, it ain’t all it’s cracked up to be. I mean that in the worst way. The nuns suck, the curriculum is way behind the public schools, and the boys are mostly stupid, except for Kip Alderson. He’s smart and will help you cheat on math exams if you pay him enough. Last year his going rate was two bucks. Might be more this year since we’re gonna study algebra.” Sophia smirked, then went on, “The only decent thing about this crap hole is the food.”
The blond girl’s mouth dropped open, and the other girl, Mavis, placed a hand over her mouth to muffle a soft giggle. “I’m not very good at math,” she replied in a sugary-sweet voice.
“Then you’ll want to hook up with Kip before he’s bombarded with all the class cheats. There’s a lot of ’em, too,” Sophia said. “What about you?” She looked at the tall blonde. “You got a last name?”
Ida rolled her eyes. “Of course I do. It’s Spencer. Like the actor, Spencer Tracy.”
“Well, that sure as hell makes you special,” Sophia blurted.
Ida Spencer’s already pale features turned a shade lighter. “That’s a mean thing to say.”
Sophia laughed. “Ah hell, I’m just messin’ with you. Look, take my advice. If you wanna get by in this shit-hole school, you’re gonna have to take a few punches. You hang with me, and I’ll show ya the ropes. Of course, if you’d rather hang with the likes of Kip and his gang of pantywaists, then by all means, do, but everyone will think
you’re a lezbo.”
Ida’s face went from pale to flaming red in a split second. “Why would you say such a thing?”
Teresa wondered why, too, but waited for Sophia to explain herself.
“Hey, I’m just tellin’ you girls how it is. You’re either with me, or you’re not. I ain’t gonna force any of you, that’s for damned sure!”
Mavis spoke up. “You’ve always gone to Catholic school?”
“Yep.”
“Then I think we need to follow Sophia’s advice. Let her show us the ropes. What about it, Ida?” Mavis asked in the most adultlike manner.
Ida looked to Teresa, then back to Mavis. “I suppose it’s okay, but I just want you to know I am not a . . . lezbo and just because you’re friends with someone . . . like that, doesn’t mean you’re the same way!”
Sophia clapped her hands and laughed. “Well said, my new friend, well said.”
Teresa thought Sophia acted like a girl twice her age, and she liked that. The girls in her sixth-grade class had all acted like babies. Suddenly, she was very glad that her parents had insisted on sending her to Catholic school. Somehow, she just knew these girls would all play important roles in one another’s lives. But there was no way she would ever reveal this to her parents. Let them think she hated school. If they thought she liked Catholic school, they might insist she return to her old school. Well, not really, she thought, but she wasn’t taking any chances.
Taking charge of the conversation, Sophia asked, “Any of you have math class next period?”
They all looked at the schedules they’d been assigned and nodded.
“Then you’re about to meet the meanest nun of them all. Sister Clara Marie. She’s older than dirt and can’t hear, or at least she acts like she can’t. But try whispering in the old bat’s class, and her hearing is supersonic. And forget passing a note. She has eagle eyes and can see even when her back is to the class.
“She thinks she’s Isaac Newton, or maybe even Einstein, but her class has been the same forever. She’s an easy A if she likes you; if not, well, you’re fu—. . . screwed.”
“Why do you use such foul language? Aren’t you afraid one of the nuns will hear you?” Mavis asked Sophia.
They all laughed, except for Ida.
“I think it’s very tacky to use profanity,” Ida remarked.
“Frig ’em,” Sophia said. “They all cuss. I’ve heard it. Whore. Bastard. Ass, though minus the hole. They’re not the perfect creatures they pretend to be, trust me on that. Wait till you spend a few days in detention; you’ll hear all of them cussing.”
Ida spoke again. “I don’t plan to get a detention, so I will have to take your word for it. You didn’t answer my question, though. Why do you curse so much?”
All eyes were on Sophia as she contemplated her answer.
With a mischievous glint in her dark brown eyes, Sophia said, “Because I can, and I like to see the reaction I get.” She laughed out loud.
Teresa joined in, and couldn’t help but admire her new friend. She had guts, she’d give her that.
Taken aback at Sophia’s honest answer, Ida spoke up, but in a friendlier tone this time. “Oh, well, don’t expect me to join in. I find it very distasteful.” Ida raised her perfectly shaped eyebrows.
“Five bucks says you’ll be cussin’ like a sailor before the end of the term.” Sophie held out her hand to Ida, which Ida quickly shook before yanking her hand away as if she’d been burned.
“I don’t have germs,” Sophia said. “You need to relax that Miss Manners shit. It ain’t gonna score any points with the nuns, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
Teresa and Mavis giggled, then the bell rang, letting them know they had exactly three minutes to get to math class.
Sophia hid her cigarettes and matches while Teresa blew her breath on her hand to see if she smelled like smoke. Ida and Mavis followed them as they rushed to their lockers, all located within talking distance of one another. Sophia grabbed a well-worn book from her locker, then turned to the three girls, who seemed to want to follow her lead. “Let’s meet here after school. We can walk home together.”
For a few seconds, the other girls said nothing, then all three nodded their agreement. Little did they know this would be the beginning of a friendship that, literally, would last a lifetime.
Chapter Six
“What were you doing in my house? I didn’t give you permission to just . . . go inside and roam around! What the hell did you think you were doing?” Sophie flew out of her chair and began pacing the length of Toots’s large kitchen, almost tripping over Frankie. “Dammit, Ida, you should know better! I swear, I can’t trust anyone these days!”
Frankie ran around in circles, barking up a storm. He knew that Sophie was very upset. After she leaned down and gave him a pat on his long back, he wiggled over to his favorite spot under the dining-room table.
Goebel, knowing why Sophie was acting like she was losing it, raced around the table and took her hand. “Soph, you’re not being reasonable. Calm down.” He gave her back a reassuring pat, mimicking what she had done with Frankie, then kissed the top of her head. Whispering in her ear, he said, “Remember, we don’t want to divulge what you suspect.”
Sophie nodded, then pushed away from Goebel. “Why were you at my house in the first place?” She had to know.
Ida, who appeared more out of sorts than Sophie felt, shrugged, hoping to hide her confusion. “I can’t seem to remember. I had to . . .” She searched the faces around her for guidance. “I’m not sure.” Stunned by her own words, tears trailed down her cheeks like two silver ribbons. “What is happening to me?”
The kitchen became so quiet, you could’ve heard a pin drop. Sophie knew what Toots was thinking and vice versa.
“You’ve had too much sugar,” was all Toots could come up with. “Whatever the reason you went to Sophie’s, it doesn’t matter. You’re here now, and I think we need to . . .” Toots hesitated. “We need to propose a toast. Yes, that’s it, so let me find that good bottle of booze I put away.” She hurried to the pantry, knowing all eyes were on her as she hustled around in search of the booze. Seconds later, she was back with a bottle of Glenfiddich, a bribery gift she’d received via FedEx the day after George Spector made his offer on the Informer. She tucked the bottle beneath her arm and grabbed a stack of red Solo cups off the shelf. All eyes were on her as she lined up six cups in a neat row. She opened the bottle of whiskey, filling the cups with a generous amount of the smooth single malt.
“Robert and I will not be drinking that stuff this early in the day, so don’t bother,” Bernice said casually as she sipped her premium-blend coffee. “We have an appointment this afternoon. I don’t want to show up drunk as a skunk.”
Robert just smiled and nodded his agreement.
For once, Toots was glad for Bernice’s crudeness. “And I suppose this has something to do with the secret you’re not quite ready to share with us?” Toots inquired.
“Who cares?” Sophie said, then winked at Toots. “I say let’s get snookered and forget about Bernice’s stupid secret.”
Both Toots and Sophie knew what Bernice’s response would be.
“I’ll sew my lips shut before I tell you now,” Bernice shot back. “Robert, don’t you say one single word!”
“Yeah, Robert. Don’t think for yourself. Let Bernice. She knows everything,” Sophie added before taking the red Solo cup and another for Goebel. “Ida, are you going to share our toast?”
Again, Ida appeared befuddled and confused. “What are you talking about? Toast? I don’t eat carbs, you know that!” She crammed the last praline down her throat and reached for the red cup.
Clueless as to what she’d planned to toast, Toots held her red cup high in the air, and announced, “To Phil. May his new medical thriller be a bestseller!” Lame, lame, lame, she thought. It would happen, just as Sophie predicted, but he didn’t know this. Two weeks from now, when it hit the stores, he wo
uld be in for the surprise of his life.
Sophie and Goebel raised their cups high in the air.
“To Phil,” they cheered.
Ida chugged her scotch in one long swallow as if it were water, then slammed her cup down. “Give me another one.”
Sophie glanced at Toots. Both knew things were getting way out of hand.
“You don’t need another drink, Ida. We’re going to . . . to . . .” At a rare loss for words, Toots searched her mind for something, anything to explain herself. And she hadn’t a clue what the hell she was trying to explain. “Sophie is going to read for us. Right?” Toots winked at Sophie, and she nodded.
“Read a book?” Ida asked. “Why in the world would she do that? We’re not children!”
Toots’s eyes doubled in size. “Ida, I want you to listen to me, okay?”
Ida nodded.
“Have you had anything to drink this morning, other than this?” She nodded at the bottle of scotch. “Any pills or anything?”
Again, Ida appeared confused. “Not that I recall. Look, I don’t know what has come over me! I felt fine this morning when I drove Daniel to the airport.” She ran her hands over her face. “I feel just fine!”
“Bernice, call Dr. Pauley and tell him I need him to make a house call. And make sure you say STAT!”
“Oh for Pete’s sake! You don’t need to call the doctor. There isn’t anything wrong with Ida. She’s just pretending to be stupid—no wait, maybe she’s not,” Bernice cackled. “But then again, Daniel seems to think she’s the greatest, and I want to agree, but I don’t know.” She let her last words dangle in the air.
“Dammit, Bernice, why do you have to be so . . . ornery? Sophie, should we have Dr. Pauley take a look at Ida?”
Sophie’s dark brown eyes circled those seated around the table, stopping on Ida. “No, not now. I’m going back to the house to check on that mess Ida mentioned. I think it’s a good idea if we all meet back here, let’s say in”—she glanced at her wristwatch—“an hour. I have some leftover lasagna Goebel stuck in the freezer. We can have lunch together.”
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