The Last Bathing Beauty

by Nathan, Amy Sue

  Twenty minutes later the fireworks had ended and Betty lay naked under her pink coverlet with her head on Abe’s bare chest. They still had time, the party on the veranda would go on for at least another half hour, her grandparents hosting and hostessing their hearts out. Stern’s Fourth of July bash was renowned. It would never end early.

  She lifted her head. “What did you say?”

  “I didn’t say anything.” Abe ran his fingers along her spine and Betty giggled.

  The back door slammed.

  She pushed Abe so hard he rolled off the bed. “Hide in the closet.”

  Without clothes or a moment to gather them, he opened the closet door, backed in, and pulled the door closed. Betty kicked his clothes under her bed as footsteps on the stairs pounded nearer. There was no way out of this now. She would be humiliated, and she would shame her grandparents. Abe would be fired. Oh God. He was naked!

  “Betty!” The whisper-yell floated into her room. It was not Zaide or Nannie.

  It was Georgia.

  She stood in the doorway and glanced around the room, not once looking directly at Betty’s face, but definitely looking at the messy bed and the dress she had fashioned out of the floral sheet.

  “Your grandparents are asking for you. I told them I’d find you, that you were probably on the beach stargazing. But I saw you run off from the parking lot earlier, so I’m probably not the only one. You’d better hurry.”

  Betty’s throat felt like she’d swallowed sand. “Thank you,” she mouthed.

  “Are you okay?” Georgia whispered.

  Betty’s cheeks warmed. She nodded and smoothed out her hair. She felt its unkemptness beneath her hand, and that was as embarrassing as her makeshift caftan.

  “I’m going back to tell them you’ll be along in a few minutes,” Georgia said. “I’ll tell them not to worry, that I saw you walking back from South Beach. Please make sure you’re wearing everything you were wearing earlier. You know your grandmother will know.”

  “I will.”

  “And if you hurt my girl Betty, you’ll have to answer to me, do you hear?” she added in her full voice, louder than was needed.

  “I hear you.” Abe’s muffled voice seeped out of the closet.

  “I’m leaving.” Georgia stepped toward the closet. “I know one good turn deserves another but please stay in there until I’m gone. Then, hurry.” She looked at Betty. “I hope he’s worth it.”

  Betty smiled. “He is.”

  Georgia left the room and the house, and Betty pulled open the closet door and shoved Abe’s clothes at him. “Get dressed.”

  Those were not the words she’d imagined whispering at the end of their night, but nothing mattered now as much as covering their tracks. Even with the next year spent apart, they had a lifetime of making love and lazing in bed ahead of them. A lifetime where no one would be hiding.

  Abe left first, out the back door. She didn’t ask where he was going.

  Betty washed, dressed, freshened her face, and made up her bed—all in less than ten minutes. Her body ached in ways she didn’t know it could, but she didn’t mind; it was as if Abe was still with her.

  Betty knew what she would say. She and Abe had stolen away to South Beach to watch the fireworks and lost track of time. She’d apologize for being careless and selfish. The beaches were filled with locals and summer people, so Nannie would trust there had been no shenanigans—that the evening was just as she described.

  Betty inhaled a deep breath of night air and counted to ten, reverting back to the girl her grandparents knew. At least on the outside. She bounced down the steps, then with a twinge slowed to a stroll. In minutes she’d be holding a sizzling sparkler and reassuring her grandparents that everything in the world was about as right as a summer rain.

  Chapter 18

  BOOP

  The doctor said Georgia had a brain bleed, a broken right cheekbone, and two pelvic fractures. Her face was bruised, her demeanor a little loopy. All anyone knew was that she’d tripped while stepping up onto a curb, and had gone down so fast there was nothing Hannah could have done. The doctor also said she was fortunate. Boop didn’t want to imagine what unfortunate might look like, or what her life would look like without Georgia in it.

  What if Georgia had died—and why was the hospital so darned cold? The hair on Boop’s arms stood on end. Hannah walked into the room with a blue blanket and draped it over Boop’s shoulders as if she’d eavesdropped on her thoughts.

  Guarded from the chill, Boop stared at Georgia as her cheek, already purple, hinted at the array of colors to come. Boop always assumed she’d have time to say goodbye to her dearest friends, the way she’d had two years to say goodbye to Marvin. She was presumptuous, naive, or maybe just infinitely hopeful. One minute Georgia was off for a walk and chat with Hannah, shifting her turquoise flamingo-print fanny pack over her hip, the next minute she was in an ambulance. What if Boop weren’t standing by her bedside in the ER but by a gurney in the morgue? This was possible, but it wasn’t her time. Not yet.

  Georgia was there in the bed. Georgia was breathing. The doctor said these were not life-threatening injuries.

  But that wasn’t always the way, was it? Sometimes people went away, you thought they were coming back, and then they didn’t.

  Boop whisked away her morbid thoughts. “You really don’t remember falling?”

  “No,” Georgia said.

  “I should have caught her, I should have known,” Hannah said. “But we were talking and I guess I was looking away and then I heard her hit the ground.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Boop said. “If someone is going down, there’s not much you can do to stop it. Thank God you were there to call the ambulance.”

  “I’m just glad I fell away from you and not on you,” Georgia said. “A fall wouldn’t be good for the baby.”

  Boop sighed. Georgia remembered Hannah was pregnant; that had to be a good sign, even if it was a bad sign that she’d fallen and didn’t remember.

  “At least I didn’t miss my flight,” Georgia said.

  “You’re not going anywhere. At least for a few days,” Boop said. Georgia was on pain meds and hadn’t looked in the mirror.

  “The doctor said three or four days in the hospital to monitor you, then rehab,” Hannah said.

  Boop slipped her hand into Georgia’s. Any other plans could wait.

  “I’m just a little banged up.” Georgia moved her arm and winced, belying her positivity.

  “A little is too much,” Hannah said.

  “I’ll take care of you,” Boop said.

  Georgia turned to Boop. “You’re too old to take care of me.”

  There was the Georgia she knew. “Aren’t you full of compliments today?”

  “I talked to the social worker,” Hannah said. “You’ll have home health aides.”

  Boop squeezed Georgia’s hand. “Your job is to get better. Leave the rest to me.”

  Georgia’s voice was low and a bit husky. “Hannah, dear, do you mind if I talk to your grandmother alone?”

  “Of course.” Hannah walked out of the room. Boop knew when she finished talking to Georgia her granddaughter would be waiting on those uncomfortable molded plastic chairs in the waiting room.

  Georgia folded her hands atop her chest. “This isn’t how you planned to spend the next month or two. You have to get ready for California.”

  “I plan, God laughs,” Boop said.

  Georgia grabbed Boop’s hand in both of hers. “I thought I was going to die,” she said.

  Me too. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion, and Boop’s words—the ones she thought and the ones she spoke, sounded cartoonish and elongated. “You were wrong.”

  “When I was in that ambulance, I could only think of two things. I was going to get to see my sisters again—”

  “Georgia, stop! You’re a little battered but a lot alive.”

  “My only other thought was about you.”

/>   Boop swallowed hard. “Don’t.” I’m not ready for Georgia’s deathbed sentiments.

  “I made a promise to God.”

  “Everyone does that. Do you know all the promises I made when I found out I was pregnant that summer? When Marvin was sick? I think God expects those promises to be broken.”

  “Catholic guilt.” Georgia covered her mouth with her hand, and for the first time Boop noticed the unnatural angle of some of her joints, the collection of wrinkles on her fingers, all acutely visible when Georgia was still in the bed, not in perpetual motion. She spoke through her fingers like someone trying to hide rotten teeth. “I need to tell you something.”

  “Right now? Can’t it wait until you’re feeling better? We’ll have lots of time to talk when you move in. I think God will understand a little reprieve.”

  “You might not. I think you should sit.”

  Boop pulled over a chair that slid easily on the linoleum floor. She sat as close to the bed as she could. Georgia inhaled and folded her hands at her chest, a little too corpse-like.

  “Okay, what’s so important?” Boop knew that Georgia’s uncertainty, bordering on delusion, could creep in at any moment. She prepared herself for anything.

  “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had,” Georgia said.

  “I feel the same, Georgia. We don’t have to do this now.”

  “Shush. Let me talk.”

  Boop turned an imaginary key at her lips.

  Georgia cleared her throat. “When I was in the ambulance, I was remembering how glad I was to have you and Marvin living in Skokie while I was at Northwestern, and then in med school. I was never alone on holidays—even when I didn’t go home for Christmas. Remember you sneaked a little tree into your house on Euclid Avenue? You and Marvin really treated me like family.”

  “You weren’t like family; you were family. You are family.”

  “Things worked out for you. You were happy.”

  “Of course they did. Of course I was.” Even though recollections had bombarded Boop this summer, reminding her of when she’d dreamed of a different life and another love, this wasn’t the time to disagree with Georgia, or discuss it. At some point Hannah would find some information about Abe, and Boop would lock up the memories again.

  “I would have done anything to protect you.” Georgia’s voice was strong, her words almost defensive.

  “Protect me from what?”

  “From being hurt again.”

  Boop patted Georgia’s arm. “I know.”

  “But you deserve to know the truth before I die. Before you die.”

  Boop had no intention of dying anytime soon; she had the pageant to attend, a new great-grandchild to meet, and a move across the country.

  “You’re not dying, Georgia. The doctor says you’ll be good as new. Or good as old, as the case may be.”

  “Well, you need to know.”

  “Okay, okay. What is it that I need to know?”

  “Remember you asked me if I thought Abe ever came looking for you.”

  “Yes, I know, it was a foolish thought, but all of us together, all the memories . . .”

  “Betty!”

  Boop quieted and snapped to attention. No one called her Betty anymore.

  “He did,” Georgia said.

  “Who did?”

  “Abe.”

  Georgia’s voice sounded far away but clear. She spoke slowly and loudly, as if she sensed Boop’s confusion. Or maybe so she wouldn’t have to repeat herself. “Abe did what?”

  “Abe came back.”

  If Georgia said words after that, Boop didn’t hear them. She was nauseated. Sweaty. Cold. Hot. Cold again. Shivering cold.

  Abe had come back. To tell his side of the story? To apologize? To start over?

  “Are you sure?” Georgia had been knocked on the head after all.

  “Yes, I’m sure.”

  “When did this happen?”

  “On your wedding day.”

  Boop drew in a breath and gasped unintelligible sounds. Georgia blurred, as if she’d appeared at the end of a dream tunnel.

  “My wedding day?”

  Had Boop whispered, spoken, or yelled? She didn’t know. Maybe she’d said nothing. Georgia’s voice echoed in Boop’s brain.

  Surely she’d misheard, or at the very least misunderstood. There was no chance Abe had come back and no one had told her. No way Boop’s lifelong friend and confidante would have withheld this information for almost seventy years. The notion was ridiculous. Georgia was forthright, fun, and no-nonsense. She was not a liar or a secret keeper.

  Boop jolted into acute consciousness as if waking up from a deep sleep, aware of the hum of the machines, the beeping of Georgia’s life, the hospital-scented air sneaking beneath her blanket shawl. “I thought you said Abe came to see me on my wedding day.” She slapped her hand through the air. “But obviously that can’t be true.”

  In cinematic slow motion, or maybe it was all the motion she could muster, Georgia traced an invisible X on her chest with a shaky index finger.

  The childlike display burrowed deep into Boop’s memory, a catalog of girlhood promises tumbling forward. Crossing one’s heart wasn’t done in jest.

  “You can’t mean that.”

  Georgia remained silent and looked away, her hand covering her mouth again. Her lack of response was enough.

  Abe had come back.

  A small, dry lump lodged in Boop’s throat. If she spoke, she’d scream or cry. She wasn’t going to make a scene. Not in a hospital. She kept her admonitions and questions inside. She didn’t want to look at Georgia, let alone talk to her. Not then. Not when minutes earlier Boop had been crushed at the thought that her best friend was going to die, once again someone leaving her behind. She wanted to leave Georgia behind, as quickly as possible. This news, these feelings, shattered everything Boop thought she knew about herself and about Georgia. And it was all wrong.

  “How dare you!” Boop whispered, but her tone was icy and accusatory. “I just asked you about him and still, nothing.”

  Georgia still did not make eye contact. “I’m sorry but I’m also not sorry. You had a wonderful life.”

  Georgia had said these exact words throughout the years. Boop had believed it was her friend’s loving observation, but, if the pronouncement about Abe was true, that statement had been only a salve for her guilt.

  Boop trembled. “When could this possibly have happened? You were with me until minutes before the ceremony.”

  “The doorbell rang . . .”

  Bile edged the back of Boop’s throat. “And you went downstairs to answer the door.”

  Georgia nodded. “But your grandfather got there first and sent him away, told him you were getting married and not to bother you again. Your grandfather saw me and told me not to tell you. That Marvin would give you and the baby the life you deserved.” Georgia gasped and words interspersed with breaths. Boop didn’t care that Georgia was sad or struggling. In that moment, her well-being ceased to matter. “I believed him.”

  Boop couldn’t move, though she wished she could run. Her eyes stung as they filled with tears and she tried to keep them from spilling down her cheeks, to no avail. “Did he see you? Did he say anything?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Georgia said.

  “You don’t get to decide what matters anymore. Did he say anything?”

  Georgia nodded. “He said, ‘Tell Betty I love her.’”

  Boop doubled over, heartache spreading through her, hot and rampant like a wildfire.

  “Why didn’t you go after him?” she yelled.

  “You were getting married.”

  Boop covered her face with her hands. “I was getting married because I thought he didn’t love me.”

  When Boop lowered her hands and looked at Georgia, she saw that tears had soaked her face.

  “I’m sorry,” Georgia said.

  “No, you’re not. This is all part of my wonderful life, right?” Bo
op stood and backed away. “Hannah!” she shouted.

  Hannah ran into Georgia’s room. “What’s the matter? Do you need me to get the nurse?”

  “No. I want you to get a psychiatrist. Georgia has lost her mind.”

  Chapter 19

  BOOP

  Back at home, Boop pulled her suitcase out of the closet, lifted out shirts, dresses, and pants, and threw them in without any pairing ritual, forethought, or coordinating lipsticks. She retrieved the empty tackle box and zipped it into the compartment meant for shoes, or a blow-dryer, or another bulky necessity. She could have removed photos from the walls or tucked in an old photo album or cookbook of Nannie’s, but Boop wanted the box.

  Now it really was all she had left.

  She didn’t want to stay in the place Georgia had betrayed her in the past and then again in the present. Why tell Boop now? To assuage her own guilt, she supposed. To get her into heaven. Harboring the secret was cowardice at first. Telling it decades later was selfish.

  “What are you doing?” Hannah stepped into the room and removed items from the suitcase one by one. Boop replaced them one by one.

  “I’m leaving,” Boop said.

  “And going where?”

  Boop stopped moving, hands full of pants. Linen, cotton, gauze. The fabrics reminded her that she had always been quick to embrace appropriate fashion—for the times, the situation, the weather.

  But where was she going and what would she need there? They’d all told her what to pack when she left South Haven the last time. She had her trousseau and a steamer trunk with dresses and twinsets, shoes, and accessories chosen by Nannie. Boop had insisted on taking her dancing-ballerina jewelry box, and a binder with her recipe heritage, one she’d rarely used.

  “How can I stay?” She looked to Hannah for an actual answer. Not only had Georgia broken Boop’s heart, but she’d broken their friendship. Boop was disillusioned and angry—so much more hurt than she would have been if Georgia had died from that fall. At least that wouldn’t have willingly removed herself from Boop’s life. And to top it off, Boop would miss Georgia. Damn her.

  Hannah lifted the collection of pants from Boop’s hands.