She slammed into the last stall and whipped a new cigarette from her purse, cursing the cheap lighter she'd picked up at a convenience store when she stopped to buy gas. At last the damn thing lit, and she turned an inch of the brown cigarette into ash with the first drag. Tears and the pungent smoke burned her eyes. "How could you, Raymond?" she murmured. "How could you?"
The door to the bathroom opened, admitting one set of feet. Beatrix cupped her hand over the cigarette and held her breath. The person entered the stall next to her and closed the door. She dropped ash into the toilet and watched it dissolve and sink to the rusty bottom.
"Beatrix, it's Natalie." The sterile walls magnified the woman's voice tenfold.
Beatrix crooked her neck and confirmed the sensible suede Hush Puppies she'd noticed earlier. The woman had good taste in clothing—too bad she couldn't say the same about her taste in men.
"Do you have an extra cigarette?"
Surprised, Beatrix took a quick drag and exhaled straight into the air. "Do you smoke?"
"No."
Beatrix smiled wryly, then reached into her purse hanging on a metal hook and extracted another smoke. Stooping, she handed the slim cigarette and the lighter underneath the divider. "The lighter sucks."
"Thanks."
The lighter sputtered, then she heard Natalie exhale and a thin ribbon of bluish smoke appeared over the stall. Beatrix leaned against the tiled wall and considered the unseen woman thoughtfully. Perhaps if they'd met another time, in another place, under different circumstances, she and Natalie might have become friends. Something about her...
A jolt of realization slammed into Beatrix. No wonder she felt drawn to the woman—aside from her dark hair, she bore a striking resemblance in her looks and demeanor to Blanche, her estranged friend... the woman from whom she'd stolen Raymond eons ago.
The bathroom door opened, and Beatrix frowned as she recognized the annoying shuffle of wooden clogs.
"It's me—um, Ruby." The framework of the stalls shook, announcing she'd claimed the final cubicle. Beatrix didn't feel inclined to acknowledge her, and apparently Natalie shared her regard.
"That hot chocolate went straight through me," she sang, and proceeded to empty her tight little bladder. The flushing toilet sent a shudder through the fixtures. "Anybody got an extra cigarette?"
Beatrix blew three perfect smoke rings. "Does your mommy let you smoke?"
"She lets her strip," Natalie offered.
"Good point." Beatrix withdrew another cigarette and handed it to Natalie under the stall.
She must have passed it on, since Ruby mumbled, "Thanks," and the snap of the weak lighter reached her ears.
"Good thing there's no smoke detector," Natalie said.
"One third of all smoke detectors have dead batteries anyway," Ruby said. "Will we be in trouble if they catch us smoking?"
"All we'd have to do is explain the situation," Beatrix assured her in a dry tone. "I'm sure the police would ignore three firebugs in lieu of snaring a bona fide bigamist."
"You mean Ray could go to jail?" Ruby's voice rose in alarm.
"Prison," Natalie corrected.
"Where the women are scarce and the men are frustrated," Beatrix added.
"What if we don't press charges?" Ruby asked.
"Speak for yourself," Beatrix muttered.
"It doesn't matter," Natalie said. "The state will file charges."
"Which state?" Ruby asked.
Between a series of little puffs, Beatrix smiled. "Hopefully, all of them."
They smoked in silence for several minutes. Beatrix reached the end of her cigarette and begrudgingly dropped the butt into the commode. But instead of exiting, she lowered the cover and sat down. Slipping off her shoes, she took an inordinate amount of pleasure in the coolness of the tile against her stockinged feet. Perhaps she would have her dressing room tiled. "What do you think his chances are, Doctor?" she asked finally, twining her fingers together.
Natalie sighed. "Well, he has no history of heart disease."
Beatrix nodded for her own benefit and squinted at faint initials scratched in the door. "He had a physical three months ago, and told me everything was fine. Of course, now we know truthfulness is not his strong point."
"No, he was telling the truth," Natalie said. "I gave him the physical."
"Ah."
"Heart disease is the number one killer in America," Ruby offered.
"What gives with the public service announcements?" Natalie demanded.
"I like trivia," Ruby said simply. "Ray says I have a knack for it."
"Well, knock it off," Natalie retorted. "Beatrix, do you know if either of Raymond's parents had heart problems?"
"They both died of cancer when he was a child," Beatrix said.
"I thought it was a boating accident," Ruby said.
"He told me they were sightseeing in a helicopter," Natalie added, clearly perturbed.
Beatrix snorted. "They probably disowned him for lying."
"But is Ray going to make it?" Ruby asked.
"The fact that he's alive at all is a good sign," Natalie said, sounding weary. "The chances of survival go up with each passing hour."
"What caused his heart attack?" Ruby asked.
Beatrix rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. "Perhaps the man's body was taxed beyond his sexual capacity."
"He was still having sex with you?"
"Yes," she answered through clenched teeth.
"We all need to be tested for sexually transmitted diseases," Natalie informed them.
Beatrix blinked. "Excuse me?"
"Don't take offense. Raymond might have been sleeping with other women we don't even know about."
"I caught the crabs once from a toilet seat at work," Ruby announced.
Beatrix immediately began to itch. "Great," she muttered, throwing up her hands. "That's just what I needed to hear!"
"But I got rid of them before I knew Ray," Ruby insisted. "The little boogers drove me crazy—I had to shave and everything."
"That is so much more than I wanted to know," Beatrix declared.
"I think the shock of seeing all of us together provoked his heart attack," Natalie said.
"I'm sure the pompous ass never even considered the possibility of being caught," Beatrix asserted, then laughed. "I have to admit, the whole sordid episode has a poetic ring to it."
"What are we going to do if he dies?" Ruby whined.
Beatrix harrumphed. "Even worse, what are we going to do if he lives?"
"Speaking of which," Natalie said, "we'd better get back. It's almost time for visitation."
Heaving a labored sigh, Beatrix stood and stepped back into her shoes, then reached for the toilet handle. They flushed away their cigarette butts in perfect synchronization, triggering a crooked smile on her face. A fitting tribute to our husband.
Chapter 4
Ruby watched the swirling water in the toilet and pictured her dreams disappearing with the soggy brown cigarette. Just a few hours ago, she was newly wed to the most handsome, thoughtful, successful man she'd ever known. Now she was playing third fiddle to a bitter old woman and a skinny lady doctor, both of whom, in her opinion, were not exhibiting a very sharing spirit.
Glad the fragrant cigarette had calmed her queasy stomach, she smoothed the skirt of her yellow gauze dress. Ray liked for her to wear feminine, frilly clothes—when she wore clothes. His call from the hospital had interrupted preparations for a special homecoming. She'd Velcroed together ruffled calico curtains for their bedroom, and planted pink begonias around the base of the mobile home Ray had presented to her the week after they were married. Double-wide, with wall-to-wall carpet—Ruby still marveled at his generosity.
Swinging open the stall door, she lifted her chin and joined the other women at the counter, each claiming a sink, each avoiding eye contact. Ruby moistened a paper towel and dabbed at her wayward makeup. She felt flashy in her bright outfit next to the prim, subdued clothin
g of her counterparts. No matter—Ray had told her he liked her style, that a woman should flaunt her good taste.
She checked her teeth, flicking out a speck of barbecued chicken, then blew her nose thoroughly. And to prove that she, too, had manners, she washed her hands carefully, removing gunk under her pink stick-on nails for good measure.
"I saw on a soap the other day where a man had a heart attack and woke up with amnesia," she offered into the booming silence.
Beatrix stopped drying her hands and stared, then tossed the paper towel into an overflowing trash can. "Raymond should be so lucky."
Ruby dried her hands and ventured a smile at Natalie as she walked through the door that Ray's second wife held open. The dark-haired woman didn't respond, but at least she maintained an expression more friendly than Beatrix's, who looked as if she were sucking on a Triple Ripple Sour Ball. In fact, Natalie was sort of pretty, like a "before" picture in a Seventeen magazine makeover. With a little eyeliner and some strawberry lip gloss, she'd probably be dynamite.
Once in the hall, Ruby hung back, half because she didn't want to get in Beatrix's way, half because she'd forgotten from which direction they'd come. As expected, Beatrix marched ahead like she was the Queen of New England or something. Natalie quietly fell in behind her, and Ruby brought up the rear, limping. Her new clogs were rubbing her toe ring. "Do you think we'll give him another shock if we go in at the same time?"
"That's the plan," Beatrix tossed over her shoulder.
Ruby stopped in her tracks. "You're not serious."
Natalie turned and gave her a flat little smile. "No, she's not serious. They probably won't let all of us go in at the same time."
Experiencing a surge of sisterhood, Ruby clambered up next to Natalie and whispered, "Do you think she'll even let us look through the window?"
"You can't really blame her for being so upset," the doctor said in a low voice. "I'm numb—I can't imagine how this must be affecting her."
"Well, between me and you and the fence post," Ruby whispered emphatically, "if she's this witchy all the time, I can see why Ray went shopping for another wife."
Natalie's face paled. "I guess that doesn't say much for me, either, does it?"
Too late, she realized she'd stuck her size-nine-and-a-half foot in her mouth. "But I—"
"Just be quiet," Natalie said, her deep blue eyes watering. "This is hard enough for all of us without you calling even more attention to yourself."
Heat rose in Ruby's cheeks as Natalie wheeled and lengthened her stride to catch up with Beatrix. Choking back a sob, Ruby followed them, but tears clouded her vision. She accidentally stepped on a licked-down piece of hard candy, turning her ankle painfully. She yelped, then kicked off the clogs and scooped them up before hobbling ahead in her bare feet.
When she rounded the corner, both women were being led by a nurse through a glass door at the end of the hall marked INTENSIVE CARE-AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.
She hurried forward, stumbled, then recovered. "Wait!"
The nurse glanced her way, but the other women disappeared through the door without hesitation.
"I want to see Ray, too!" she cried as she skidded to a halt on the waxed floor.
The sweet-faced nurse glanced at the clogs in her hands and smiled, but shook her head as she closed the door. "Only two visitors per patient at a time—intensive care is extremely crowded, ma'am. We have rules."
"But I'm his wi—" She halted as the nurse's head snapped around. She didn't want to get Ray in trouble with Johnny Law. "Daughter," Ruby amended quickly. "I'm Ray's daughter."
"I'm very sorry," the nurse murmured. "Perhaps his other visitors will come out a few minutes early and let you go in."
Her shoulders slumped. "I doubt it. We don't exactly get along."
The woman touched her arm. "I'll try to get you in next time."
Ruby nodded miserably, then turned at the sound of the door reopening. Beatrix and Natalie, both red-faced and tight-lipped, emerged and bumped past her without so much as a howdy-hoo.
"What's wrong?" she called after them. "Ray's all right, isn't he?" They didn't answer, so she pled with the nurse. "Can I go in now? Just for a few minutes?"
The nurse held up her finger, then disappeared behind the door, only to reappear a few seconds later wearing a sorrowful expression that Ruby decided was mandatory for graduating from nurse and doctor school. "Apparently, Mr. Carmichael's heart rate accelerated past a safe range during visitation. No other visitors are allowed until a specialist sees him. I'm sorry."
Tears clogged her throat as she trotted down the hall toward the waiting room.
Beatrix and Natalie stood at opposite ends of the small room, their backs to each other, their arms crossed.
"What did you say to Ray?" she demanded. When they refused to acknowledge her presence, she sent a wooden clog bouncing off a wall, denting the plaster, but getting their attention. "Answer me!"
Beatrix's mouth twisted. "Nothing."
But Natalie's eyes narrowed as she turned on Beatrix. "Nothing? You told him if he died, you'd serve Dom Perignon at the funeral!"
Ruby shook her head to clear it. The situation was beginning to resemble an episode of Murder, She Wrote, with strangers popping up at every turn. Who the heck was this Dom fellow?
Beatrix spun toward Natalie, her eyes blazing. "And what exactly did you expect me to say? 'Hello, Raymond, I'm here with wives number two and three and we're all praying for a speedy recovery'?"
"You don't honestly want him to die, do you?" Ruby asked.
"Only if it's slow and painful."
"She doesn't mean that," Natalie said, shaking her head.
"Oh, don't I?" Beatrix laughed, a bitter sound. "You're telling me the man deserves better after what he's done?"
Natalie jammed her hand through her dark hair that cried out for a permanent wave and said, "Stop acting as if you're the only person involved here. If Raymond dies, we'll all be left with the mess he created. If he lives, at least he can help set things right."
Worry began niggling at the back of Ruby's brain. If Ray died, she would be left standing in a heap of debt. With her expanding waistline, she wouldn't remain the featured performer at Paddy's much longer—she doubted her boss Mac would even let her drop back to waitressing. Ruby nibbled on the skin around her thumbnail. How would she make the trailer payment? And what about the big-screen TV? Oh, fudge.
Beatrix faced Natalie, her eyes blazing. "What could Raymond do to set things straight?" Then her face lit up. "Oh, I know—he can divorce me to marry you, then divorce you to marry her!" She jerked her head toward Ruby, who brightened, thinking that when Ray was well enough, that was exactly what he would do.
Cheered, Ruby snatched up her shoe, then claimed the chair in the farthest corner of the waiting room. She drew her knees up to her chin, and concentrated on the old episode of Laverne & Shirley playing low on the TV, sending happy thoughts to her unborn baby. She hadn't really lied when they asked if she and Ray had children. They didn't—yet.
Ray's other wives staked out opposite sides of the room, the skinny one crying softly, the old bag twirling a cigarette like a baton from pinkie to thumb across the top of her hand. Ruby was impressed with the trick, but she wasn’t about to let on. Instead she crossed her fingers on both hands into four sets of good luck charms and repeated prayers for Ray's recovery until her mind wandered.
She dozed through the late news, the late show, the later show, and the late late show, jerking awake each time the door to the ICU opened to accommodate the flow of medical personnel in and out. Around three in the morning, she awoke to find Beatrix coming out of the ICU, alone, a smug look on her face. Furious, Ruby sprang to her feet and hobbled across the room on sleep-numbed legs to confront the woman. "Why didn't you let me go in to see him?"
Beatrix barely looked in her direction as she settled into a chair. "Because."
Ruby frowned. "Because why?"
The woman rolled
her eyes upward. "Because he's my husband and we had unfinished business. Don't you have a curfew or something?"
Ruby made a face at her, then scooted to the nurses' station and asked to see her hus—father the next time he was allowed visitors. The woman gave her hand a sympathetic pat and whispered, "I don't get along with my mother either."
Beatrix shot a scathing glance toward them. "I'm not her mother." Ruby slunk back to her chair.
Natalie had fallen asleep, she noticed, her slim, tear-streaked face milky and drawn next to the dark fabric of the chair she leaned against. The lab coat was really cool, though, Ruby acknowledged with a sigh. She'd always wanted a job that required a smart-looking lab coat—doctor, nurse... hairdresser.
She picked up a worn copy of Good Housekeeping and read an article on removing stains from upholstery. Her Shih Tzu, Miss Mame, had peed on the new couch, and although an afghan covered the spot just fine, the cushion was beginning to smell. Ray liked a clean house—he rinsed the sink after he shaved and everything. He was a dreamboat, always doing nice things for her, like bringing supplies to help control her diabetes, and setting the DVR to tape Jeopardy every evening so she could watch it when she got off work. The first time through she simply enjoyed the show, but the second time through she memorized the answer to every question. Even Ray didn't know she hadn't finished the tenth grade, and no one would if she crammed her head full of smart-sounding stuff she read in magazines and heard on television. She wanted to make her husband proud.
While the other women were sleeping, she was able to talk a nurse into sneaking her in to see him for one minute. Ray was so pale, with so many tubes everywhere, it gave her the heebie-jeebies. He looked old. But they wouldn't even let her speak to him before they ushered her back outside. She must have dozed for another couple of hours, then was jarred awake by a flurry of motion in and out of the ICU door. When Ray's doctor swept by, she shook Natalie's shoulder. "I think something's wrong," she whispered, needing the reassurance of a doctor.
Our Husband Page 4