“We need to change the subject,” Boop said. She gathered cookie crumbs and plastic into the empty Delightful Buddha bag.
“She’ll talk when she wants to,” Georgia said.
Doris set out the take-out containers and Georgia grabbed plates. She picked up a piece of white paper from the floor. Hannah’s fortune.
“What does it say?” Georgia asked.
“Those who care will make the effort.”
“Oh, that poor dear. I wish we knew what happened,” Boop said.
“She has a good head on her shoulders,” Doris said.
“That doesn’t always help,” Georgia said.
The bathroom door squeaked open. Boop and the girls opened the cartons, stuck an appropriate utensil into each, and started filling their plates.
“Sit with us, even if you’re not hungry. Unless the smell bothers you,” Georgia said.
Hannah covered her face with her hands. “I don’t know how it happened.”
“Do you want to tell us what it was?” Boop stretched her arm around Hannah.
“Do you think he’ll forgive me?” Hannah asked.
The girls stayed quiet as Boop selected her words with great care. “For taking time to decide about marriage? I should hope so, Hannah. Not everyone says yes right away, especially if he caught you off guard with the proposal.”
Hannah looked up at Boop. “You don’t understand.”
Boop saw Georgia’s lips tighten and Doris gaze into the lo mein. This was a job for Boop. “Explain it to me then.”
“Clark changed his mind because I told him I met someone else.”
A gentle vertigo swayed the room from side to side. Boop held the edge of her chair. “Excuse me?”
“What do you mean, you met someone else?” Doris asked.
“I met a guy. Online. I really cared for him. Or I thought I did.”
Georgia stood and lifted her plate. Doris did the same. “We’ll be on the porch if you need us.”
Now the girls gave them privacy? When Boop would have liked a little backup? Her thoughts jumbled together. There had been two men in Hannah’s life.
The front door shut.
“I thought you said the baby was Clark’s.”
“The baby is Clark’s,” Hannah said. “It—I mean he or she—can’t be anyone else’s. I just thought I should be honest with Clark that I’d had a . . . I guess you could call it an emotional connection with someone else. He wanted more, but I realized I didn’t. I just thought that I should be honest.”
“This happened while you were living with Clark?”
Hannah nodded.
“So, it was like a crush.”
“It was different than a crush.”
“What does that mean?”
“We were really good friends, but I knew he wanted more.” Hannah looked away from Boop. “I liked the attention. The thing is, I used to lie to Clark about who I was texting and who I was with when I went out sometimes.”
“Oh, Hannah.”
“I know, I know, it’s awful. But I never even kissed him, and we always met in public, in this one coffee shop. Then all of a sudden it was like he had never been listening to me. He wanted me to break up with Clark to be with him, and I freaked out. I ended the friendship. I never should have said I miss him sometimes. I think that was the clincher. And I didn’t want to lie to Clark anymore. Or to myself.”
“You realize this made Clark insecure, right? He’s worried you’ll replace him.”
“That’s ridiculous. I reminded him that no one can ever compare to him. He’s the one who encouraged me to get my master’s. And how much I love going to craft shows with him and listening to him talk about his sculptures. He’s so talented, and I’m proud as though I had something to do with it. He remembers everything I tell him about all my students. He’s my best friend, Boop. What am I supposed to do without him?” Hannah coughed, and then sobbed her words. “I thought telling him the truth was the right thing to do.”
“What did he say when you told him all this?”
Hannah spoke in gasps. “That he felt like he was the safe choice, not the passionate and exciting choice. But he’s wrong. He’s the only choice. But he may never fully trust me again.”
Boop wouldn’t tell Hannah that it would be okay, Clark or no Clark, that her life would fill with love and happiness, even if at first there was heartache.
It wasn’t the right time for acceptance. It was time for action.
Chapter 15
BOOP
Hannah headed to bed early. Boop and the girls sat at the kitchen table amid the scraps of food and leftover conversation.
“I’ll clean up,” Boop said. “It helps me think.”
“I thought ironing helped you think,” Doris said.
“I haven’t ironed since, I don’t know, the eighties?” Boop said. “These days, I settle for drying dishes by hand.”
Georgia set dishes by the sink. “We can help.”
“I’d rather have some time to myself.”
“I know you’re thinking about Abe,” Georgia said.
“How can I not? I would have forgiven him anything. And look at Marvin and his forgiveness, his acceptance. I know he wasn’t perfect but love means giving someone a second chance. Maybe a third. If Clark doesn’t see that—”
Georgia nodded. “Then maybe a baby isn’t the right reason this time.”
“Exactly.”
With the dishes dried, Boop and the girls settled alone onto the porch to watch the sunset. But they weren’t alone. A dozen people walked by and waved on their way to the pier—the best spot in town for skygazing, unless you had a porch.
A sloop cruised north toward the lighthouse. The boat traveled into the wind, sails angled forward, appearing as its predecessor may have hundreds of years earlier, when, as a merchant vessel, it transported furs, or while serving in the War of 1812, before it had been captured by the British and later burned.
Oh, the things Boop remembered from grade-school social studies.
That day Friends Good Will curved around the pier, to the cheers of the crowd that had gathered, the sky aflame.
Without forgetting its past, the ship had been bestowed new life, new purpose, as a tourist and educational attraction. No one had erased or disregarded the calamitous past, like Boop had. Those stories were part of its legacy; they made the ship’s story whole.
The calamity of Boop’s life was what made her whole as well.
The cantaloupe-and-honey-colored sky deepened to cider near the surface of the lake. Boop glanced away and toward her friends. Doris was leaving in the morning. It was time to hurry things along.
The next morning, Boop shook Hannah’s foot through the lemonade-colored comforter. “Rise and shine, sleepyhead. It’s almost nine. Doris’s cab will be here soon to take her to the airport. Come say goodbye.”
Hannah’s eyes remained closed. “I’m awake. Just resting.” She sat up straight. “Doris deserves a proper goodbye. And then you, me, and Georgia will go out for brunch.”
Hannah’s slim build and thin cotton nightshirt revealed a curve—the “baby bump,” Boop had heard it called. Hannah had entered her second trimester, thank God. The changes would be rapid-fire from here on out. Boop wanted Hannah to revel in each experience, not have it serve as a reminder of anything other than the future.
Boop had once been forced to hide the shifts in her spirit and the burden of her symptoms, lest they confirm what everyone suspected: she was pregnant before she’d married Marvin. The fact that it was true was one thing. Admitting it would have been a shanda, a disgrace, and shame would have been unflattering to the South Haven Sterns’ reputation.
There would be no shame for Hannah. Not because of the baby, not because of any mistakes or Clark’s doubts. Boop would make sure of it.
She removed the only dress hanging in the closet and splayed it over the foot of the bed. The navy knit with bright-pink roses and green vines and leaves fe
atured a familiar halter-style top. “Do you think this will fit?”
Hannah shrugged and glanced at her chest as she stood.
Boop tugged on the fabric. “It’s got some give. Go in the bathroom, wash up, and try it on.”
Soon Hannah would wear clothes designed to accentuate her figure and draw attention to her baby’s upcoming arrival instead of wearing tent dresses like expectant mothers in Boop’s day. Boop had set aside her love of color, prints, waistbands, and cleavage for the drab tent dresses, modesty, and big bows that maternity wear had demanded. Those dresses she’d worn when carrying Stuart had brought her both sadness in what she’d lost and joy in what was to come. She wanted only joy for Hannah.
Boop pushed her hair behind one ear, knowing the asymmetry flattered her face, which had droopier cheeks than she would have liked, and no amount of makeup could hide that fact.
Hannah plopped back onto the bed and scooted under the covers. “I don’t have much of an appetite, so you go without me.”
Boop usually avoided playing the old lady card but kept it in her back pocket for just such an occasion. “You know you might never see the bubbes again, right? You’ll be sorry if the next time you see them is at a funeral.”
“Don’t say that.”
“We know it’s likely the last time the three of us will be together, especially here.”
Hannah sat and swung her legs over the side of the bed. “I get it, but I don’t . . .”
“Don’t ‘I don’t’ me, Hannah. The girls want to see you before they go, and not while you’re in bed. Today this isn’t really about you.”
Hannah flipped back the covers. “You’re right. I’ll try the dress. What restaurant are we going to?”
“It’s a surprise.”
Hannah slipped the dress off the hanger and carried it to the bathroom. When the door closed and the sound of water gushing through the pipes resounded in the walls, Boop peeked out the window. She drew the curtains even though they were sheer linen, wanting to focus only on what was going on inside that room. Boop fluffed the pillows, tucked in the sheets, and smoothed the comforter atop all of it. She precisely arranged three throw pillows and set a stuffed bunny in front of them. No chance of Hannah wiggling back into bed, or out of what was next.
The dress fit beautifully.
Hannah twirled. She and Boop laughed as the skirt spun out around her. When Hannah and Emma were little girls, they’d played dress up in Boop’s bedroom closets in Skokie and in South Haven, and twirl-tested all of the dresses. They’d emerged transformed, shuffling and stomping around in Boop’s high heels. They’d adorned themselves with costume necklaces, clip-on earrings, shawls, and hats. Boop and Marvin would watch the fashion shows as if they’d been flown to Paris for Fashion Week. Marvin had whistled through his fingers to the girls’ squeals of delight and their exaggerated and adorable curtsies.
Boop lifted a paddle brush from the dresser. “Can I brush your hair?”
“I’m not a little girl anymore. But yes.”
Boop brushed the ends of Hannah’s hair, then pressed the bristles at the top of Hannah’s head and dragged them all the way down. “I know, but it’s important to allow yourself to be pampered. And to pamper yourself. There are a few lipsticks on the tray over there.”
“I don’t really wear makeup, Boop.”
“A little lipstick never hurt anyone.” Today Boop’s color not hurting anyone was Exotic Orchid.
Hannah sighed, stepped away, and gazed into the mirror over the dresser. She leaned close without pressing her stomach into the drawers, ran her fingers around her eyes and over her cheeks, then applied a layer, then two, of a sheer rosy pink to her lips.
It wasn’t much, but Boop would take what she could get.
That was true for lipstick and life.
“How do you feel?” Boop asked.
“I feel okay. Thank you for this.”
“You look better than okay. You look lovely.”
“Thanks, Boop.”
“Now, I want you to do something for me.” Boop led Hannah to the bed and they sat. “I want you to keep feeling okay, drive back to Kalamazoo, and tell Clark all the things you told us last night. You owe it to yourself to remind him how good you think you are together. How what you have is stronger than anything else, that he isn’t your safe choice or your second choice.”
“Who are you and what have you done with cynical, Clark-doubting Boop?”
“You have to grab the opportunity I didn’t have.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I never had the opportunity to tell Abe everything.” Boop gulped. “But everything you said last night about Clark is how I felt about Abe.”
Hannah laid her hands atop Boop’s. “You loved him, didn’t you?”
Boop looked away. “I did.”
“Marrying Pop was the safe thing to do.”
Boop looked away and nodded. Then she met Hannah’s gaze. “It was the only thing I could do. I did love him, though. You have to know that.”
“I do. But Abe was the one who got away.”
“In a way, yes. That’s why if you love Clark the way I think you do, you owe it to yourself, to him, and to the baby, to tell him how you feel. If it doesn’t work out, or if he doesn’t feel the same way, you’ll always know you fought for love.”
“What if he won’t forgive me?”
“If he loves you like you love him, this will just be a speed bump. One of many if you’re lucky.” Boop would have forgiven Abe for leaving, for staying away, for not coming back.
Hannah kissed Boop’s cheek. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course, but then we’d better get downstairs.”
“Why did your grandparents disapprove of Abe?”
“It sounds silly now, but he wasn’t Jewish. That was a huge deal back then.”
“You had just graduated high school. It wasn’t like you and Abe were going to run off and get married.” Hannah gasped. “When did you start going with Pop?”
Boop shivered inside the way she had from a cold flash during her change of life. Her friends all had hot flashes. But no, Boop became her own personal subzero freezer. “I don’t remember exactly.”
“Yes, you do. It was a whirlwind romance and then you got married.”
Boop looked at the yellow comforter, the color that had been appropriate, like mint green, for either a boy or a girl. “You know the story.”
Boop felt Hannah staring, her granddaughter knowing something without being told.
The front door slammed with a thud. “Cab’s here,” Georgia bellowed up the stairs.
“We’re not finished talking about this,” Hannah said.
“We are for now.”
On the upstairs landing outside the bedroom, Boop grabbed her cane and linked arms with Hannah. She held on to the railing as well as Hannah’s arm. Boop might have been in okay shape for eighty-four, but the stairs could be a challenge.
Left foot onto the tread, then the right foot. Left foot, right foot. Left foot, right. Hannah walked in time—patient, understanding, and strong.
She’d make a wonderful mother.
On the back patio they each hugged Doris as the cabdriver stowed her suitcases in the trunk.
“Call us when you get home,” Boop said.
Doris stuck her thumb up as an “okay” sign. Or so Boop thought.
“Go get him, Hannah,” Doris said from the back seat.
Boop, Georgia, and Hannah waved until the cab turned the corner and was out of sight. She might never see Doris again. This had always been a possibility, but it seemed more palpable now as they hit the mid-eighty mark. Even if they all stayed alive, at some point one of them would lose touch with reality or lose control of their bladder. Or worse.
“Boop?” Hannah said.
“Go home, we’ll have brunch another time.”
“Well, I won’t be here,” Georgia said. “Take a short walk with me before you go?�
��
“Of course,” Hannah said. “Are you sure you don’t mind me skipping brunch? I just want to get home.”
“Georgia and I will be fine, and she leaves tomorrow. That’s when I’ll call your dad and plan my move. But I’m not thinking about it until then.”
Hannah and Georgia linked arms.
The women she loved most loved one another. No matter how much longer any of them were on this earth, no one could take that away. She walked inside and started a pot of coffee. She and Georgia would rehash everything that happened with Hannah, Doris’s romantic life, and the weather forecast.
Anything to avoid talking about Georgia leaving.
A few minutes later, Boop had barely settled into the porch chair to read when Hannah ran through the kitchen door alone. “Come with me,” she yelled. “We have to go to the hospital.”
Boop shot to her feet. “Is it the baby?” It was too early. Boop had never even considered . . .
“The baby’s fine,” Hannah said, her eyes wide, her voice shaking. “It’s Georgia.”
Chapter 16
BETTY
A car turned the corner and drove down Lakeshore. Betty leaned against the house and slid her hands into the pockets of her pedal pushers. She looked down, the cordovan leather of her penny loafers buffed to a shine, her socks folded neatly. She crossed her left leg over the right and glanced south toward the lighthouse and the disbanding hordes of visitors who’d gathered to watch the sunset she and Abe had missed.
Somehow she knew it wouldn’t be Abe, yet inside her pockets she crossed her fingers, inside her head she whispered “please.” He was five minutes late.
The car, heading south, stopped and idled in front of her house. Betty turned and looked right at Marv, leaning his left arm and head outside the open car window.
“Hey, Betty Boop, I thought you might be here. We’re going for ice cream and then to the arcade.” He tapped his car door as if it were a bongo drum. “Hop in.”
The Last Bathing Beauty Page 16