“It’s two a.m. I think we’ve already overstayed our welcome.” Alice appealed to Candie with a pointed glare.
“C’mon, Bob. It’s late.” Candie used his arm to hoist herself from the couch. “It was nice meeting you, Alice.” She lowered her voice. “Think about our offer.” She gave Alice a sensual peck on the lips.
As they gathered their coats and left the room, Alice stood momentarily frozen in place. Her lips stunned and tingling from Candie’s, she wondered why she wasn’t appalled by what Candie had just done. Maybe it was time to cut down on the bud. She walked into the kitchen and grinned at Leslie leaning against the counter savaging a cold fried-chicken leg.
“Alice,” she said dramatically. “I can’t believe how delicious this is, and it’s two days old. Here, try some.”
Alice deflected Leslie’s hand as the stripped chicken leg came perilously close to her nose. “No, thanks. I’m stuffed. Why don’t you finish that and get ready for bed. I have to get going now.”
“You do?” Leslie pouted and threw her arms around Alice’s neck, burying her face in her shoulder. “But we’re having so much fun.”
“Don’t worry. We can do this again sometime.” Alice closed her eyes for a moment and delighted in a deep whiff of Leslie’s hair, smoky with traces of freshness from her Prell shampoo.
“Okay,” Leslie said, finally releasing her. “I’m so tired.”
Alice smiled at this new side of Leslie. “Then go get your husband and go to sleep.”
“Unless you have a stick of dynamite in your purse, he’s there for the night.”
“Okay.” She led Leslie to the foot of the staircase in the living room. “See you Monday.”
As Alice descended their front steps dusted with the snow that had fallen earlier in the evening, she felt strangely forlorn. Monday morning seemed so far away.
*
She awoke the next morning with the strange and vivid events of the party and Leslie rumbling through her mind. She looked out at the gray December day and hid under her pillow. Other than Bill and Leslie’s Christmas gathering, she’d had no plans for the rest of the weekend. Since her divorce from Tony a year ago, her social circle had consisted of the crochet klatch; her single cousin, Phyllis; or the least-appealing option, being the third wheel with her sister, Mary Ellen, or her other married girlfriends. When she remembered how Leslie had mentioned that she sometimes took the kids to the indoor ice-skating rink on Saturday afternoons, she popped her head out from her flannel hideaway and jumped out of bed.
Sitting on the bleachers at the rink later that day, Alice stared at Leslie’s profile as Leslie called out to Billy to hold Rebecca’s hand when they skated by. Billy’s arms flailed as he zoomed unsteadily past them without acknowledging his mother.
“He knows he’s supposed to watch out for her,” Leslie said with a sigh.
“From where I’m sitting, it looks like he’d benefit more from holding her hand,” Alice said. “She’s got a nice, steady pace going.”
Leslie smiled. “She’s my little tomboy. So athletically coordinated.”
“I’d rather see a young woman balance herself on skates than stiletto heels any day.”
“I’m glad you called this morning. This is so much nicer than sitting here alone waiting for one of them to fall and crack their head open.”
“I was just calling to see if you were okay. That was some party last night.”
“It was,” Leslie said. “I had such cotton-mouth this morning. When Bill brought the kids home,” she said, overtaken with silliness, “Billy asked why it smelled like a skunk died on the sofa in the family room.”
“Was it the weed or Bob’s aftershave?”
“Maybe that was it.” Leslie leaned into Alice and continued laughing.
Alice watched her mouth to see if it was cold enough in the rink to see her breath. It certainly felt like it. She then recalled the odd feeling of jealousy she’d experienced the night before when Bob was leering at Leslie. Was it so odd, really, to admire a woman like her? She had the silkiest, creamy-white skin, warmest personality, and the most charming family life. What woman wouldn’t have been a little jealous of her?
“Your neighbors are an interesting couple,” Alice said.
“Good God, I had no idea. I’m sorry I exposed you to that.”
“I’m a big girl. I can handle myself against the lascivious intentions of harmless perverts.”
Leslie shook her head in amusement. “Better than I can. I can’t believe I smoked marijuana with them.”
“You were fine. Bill was right there in the chair, albeit unconscious, but he was there.” Alice suddenly got serious. “And I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you.”
Leslie grabbed her hand. “You’re such a good friend, always there when I need you.”
Alice made the universal empowerment fist with her free hand. “Hey, we ladies of the Second Wave feminist crocheting movement have to stick together—right, Bella?”
Leslie smiled and raised their clenched hands as though they were activists at a rally. “Right-on, Betty.”
*
Rebecca sprang up from her prone position lying across her mother’s feet. “You were crushing on my mother.”
Alice blushed. “What? No, I wasn’t. I wasn’t even gay then.”
“Yes, you were,” Rebecca said. “You just didn’t know it yet.”
Alice’s shoulders tensed as her trip down Memory Lane veered too far off the safe, well-traveled path.
“You were totally crushing on her,” Rebecca said. “I can’t blame you. She was quite a hottie back then.”
“Shhh,” Alice said as though Leslie might overhear them.
As Dr. Winston walked in, Rebecca was still teasing Alice. “This is good,” he said with a handsome smile. “You’re maintaining a positive atmosphere.”
Alice stood along with Rebecca, her heart beating wildly in anticipation of the doctor’s report. “Should I step outside?”
“No.” Rebecca touched Alice’s back. “Doctor, this is Alice, a very good friend of my mother.”
He shook her hand and addressed them both. “Your mom’s latest scans are looking better. From what I can tell right now, there doesn’t seem to be any serious damage to the brain, but we’ll know for sure once she regains consciousness.”
“So she’s gonna be okay?” Rebecca said. “When will she wake up?”
“I can’t say for sure, but she’s holding her own, so she could wake any time. The best thing to do is keep talking to her.”
“Will she be able to talk when she wakes?” The question slipped out before Alice could stop it.
“Again, it doesn’t look like there’s any permanent damage, but we won’t know the specific effects of the stroke until she wakes.” His face turned softer. “She’s improving. That’s what counts. I’m scheduling another MRI for her for tomorrow if she doesn’t wake before then.”
“Thank you, Doctor.” Rebecca shook his hand effusively. “I have to text Billy.”
After the doctor left, Alice needed a moment to catch her breath. “That’s some good news, right?”
Rebecca looked up from her cell phone and smiled. “She’s getting better.”
“Looks like you’ll be able to have that conversation you’ve wanted to have with her after all.”
“So will you.” Rebecca winked and returned to her phone.
Chapter Four
At the hospital the next morning, Alice had the chair parked next to Leslie’s bed by eight-thirty a.m. In the rare moment of privacy she studied Leslie’s face, the fine lines around her eyes, the few dark spots on her forehead, all the natural changes she hadn’t been around to notice as they’d occurred. Growing old with someone was a precious gift only some got to enjoy, a harsh reality that had cuffed Alice last year when she’d made Maureen’s funeral arrangements. Although she was a seventy-one-year-old widow, at least she’d had many good years with Maureen. What did Leslie have?
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She gently rubbed some hand lotion on Leslie’s forearms, willing her to open her eyes.
“So what do you think about last month’s Supreme Court ruling?” she asked. “Full marriage equality.” She leaned back in her chair and folded her hands behind her head. “Boy, times sure have changed, huh? With lightning speed, it seems. Imagine if we’d met now? How different things would’ve been—I think. Who knows?”
“Good morning,” a nurse said, pushing her computer cart into the room.
“Good morning.” Alice got up to make room for her.
“You’re fine, hon,” the nurse said. She consulted the screen displaying Leslie’s vitals. “Oxygen and heart rates look good, Mrs. O’Mara. Let’s check that temperature.” She looked at Alice. “Are you two related?”
“No, just very good friends.” And since you asked, passionate lovers for a freckle of a moment in time about a thousand years ago. She smiled at her private cheekiness and couldn’t help wondering how Leslie would’ve answered that question.
The nurse smiled. “I knew there was some special connection. You’re here as often as her kids.”
“Beats Mah-Jongg at the senior center.”
As the nurse was leaving, Rebecca came around the corner with a tray of Dunkin Donuts coffees and a sleepy ten-year-old boy lagging behind, chewing a straw in a bottle of chocolate milk.
“Hey, Alice. Black, one sugar,” Rebecca said, handing off one of the coffees.
“Thanks so much.” Alice directed the cup right to her mouth. “How did you know I’d be here?”
“Just a hunch.” She winked and guided her son to a chair against the wall. “Sit here and have your egg, Jake. Did you say hi to Alice?”
He offered a quiet “hi” and kept his big blue eyes fixed on Alice as he nibbled his breakfast sandwich.
“Those eyes of his eliminate all the guesswork as to who carried him,” Alice said, recalling when Leslie’s were that brilliant.
Rebecca smiled as she attempted to tame his blond bedhead with her fingers. “If you saw my partner, you’d know instantly. She’s half Indian, half Italian.”
“Interesting combination. When will I meet her?”
“Uh, that’s tough to say. She’s in California right now on business.”
“It must be difficult handling this on your own, emotionally, I mean.”
Rebecca’s mouth twisted as she looked away.
“I’m sorry,” Alice said. “That sounded rather judgmental.”
“I told her not to rush home—in light of recent events with us.”
“I see. Now I’m sorry for even bringing it up.”
“That’s okay. You didn’t know.” She handed her phone to Jake. “Here, baby. Want to listen to your music?”
His face lit up as he laid his sandwich aside and seized the phone. Once he attached the headphones, Rebecca sat at the foot of Leslie’s bed.
“We’ve been separated for about a month now. She’s staying with a friend.”
“I’m so sorry. Are you in counseling?”
“We’re going to start when Mom gets better. I hope it isn’t too late. We kind of let our problems fester for a while—a long while.”
“It’s never too late to try,” Alice said. Although it had been decades, she could still recall the anguish of losing Leslie, pain that had uprooted her like a sapling in a hurricane.
“Yes, I suppose,” Rebecca said. “That’s partly why I was asking you so many questions about my mother the other day.”
“You think there’s a connection?”
Rebecca considered it. “Maybe. My mother’s the most remarkably positive person in the world, but I don’t know. It’s always seemed like real happiness has stayed one step ahead of her. Maybe that’s a thing, and it’s hereditary.”
“I highly doubt you and your mother have the same issue.”
Rebecca cocked her head to the side. “Does that mean you know what my mother’s issue was?”
“No.” Alice took a long sip of her coffee, miffed at herself for almost being outsmarted. “Rebecca, whether your mother has something she does or doesn’t want you to know, that’s her business. It’s certainly not my place to say.”
“Then you do know something. She had an affair, didn’t she?”
Alice shifted in the chair, her leg numb from sitting cross-legged. “I don’t know. And what does it matter now?”
“She had an affair, and they couldn’t be together,” Rebecca said dreamily. “I bet the jerk seduced her, promised her the world, and then took off.”
Alice nearly choked sipping her coffee. “I’m sure you have a very active imagination,” she said, fighting the compulsion to defend herself.
“It would explain why she was never able to find anyone after the divorce. She dated a lot of different guys before finally giving up. She must’ve still been hooked on with this mystery person.”
Alice’s heart ached at the fact and fiction mixed up in Rebecca’s speculation. Fearing it would show on her face, she turned to the Purell dispenser and rubbed her hands until she caught her breath.
She turned around when Leslie’s son, Billy, his wife, and their twin teenage daughters came trooping around the corner. After Rebecca greeted them with hugs and introduced Alice, the room became claustrophobic. She suddenly remembered some place she didn’t need to be and excused herself.
Still lost in nostalgia, she’d stopped at a McDonald’s drive-through, ordered another black coffee, and allowed her car to steer itself down to Branford Point. Visiting so many ghosts from her past had left her melancholy. As the afternoon sun lowered in the sky, she pulled into a spot overlooking Branford Harbor and began to feel rather guilty. Being back in Connecticut, holding what amounted to a bedside vigil for Leslie had made her forget Maureen—not entirely, of course, but enough that Maureen’s memory wasn’t constantly occupying her thoughts as it had been since her passing a year ago. Sadly, she couldn’t do anything for Maureen, but Leslie was a different story.
She turned off the ignition and cracked her window, letting in the smell of salty air and decaying sea life. Her mind began to wander freely, without having to temper its recollections while in Rebecca’s presence. She recalled the first time she and Leslie had parked here before going home after an evening with the crochet klatch.
March 1977
“I hope Bill doesn’t make me quit,” Leslie said.
“It was just an argument, Leslie. I’m sure it’ll blow over.”
“He’s mentioned it to me a few times before. Last night was the first time it actually became an argument. He doesn’t seem to want to drop it.”
“Why doesn’t he want you to work?”
“I’m not there for the kids. I don’t get home from work until five thirty.”
“They stay at your mother-in-law’s after school, don’t they?”
“Yes, but baseball season starts soon for Billy, and Brownies for Rebecca. She’d have to take them to practice and troop meetings, and she’s not really comfortable driving.”
Alice’s throat became parched at the thought of Leslie quitting. What would she do on breaks and lunch hour without her? And for what? So she could be the kids’ afternoon chauffeur?
“How do you feel about it?”
Leslie sulked. “I don’t want to. I like my job.”
Alice drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, staring out at the cone-shaped light the moon cast over the water. “Can’t you tell Bill you don’t want to?”
“I could, and I don’t think he would keep fighting me on it, but it would create a lot of tension between us. Besides, I would feel awful not being there for my kids.”
Alice clenched her jaw in desperation. “What if I ask Engle if you could cut your hours? Maybe work until three instead of five?”
“Really? That would be perfect.” Leslie’s eyes twinkled in the moonlight bouncing off the water. “Do you think he’d go for it?”
“It won’t hurt to ask. I always
tell him what an efficient worker you are. I’m sure he wouldn’t want to lose you.”
“Thank you, Alice.” Leslie reached over from the passenger seat and gripped Alice like Killer Kowalski from the side.
“It’s nothing.” Alice patted Leslie’s forearms locked across her chest. She smiled with relief at the potential solution to the problem, but something else left her unsettled. Why was she so distraught at the idea of Leslie leaving in the first place? She’d worked there for ten years without her and got along fine. And more importantly, why had she not wanted Leslie to let go of her at that moment?
Leslie leaned back in her seat with a sigh. “That’s a relief. I mean, I know it’s not a guarantee, but it’s something.”
“It’s almost eleven o’clock. We better get going.” Alice started the car, too distracted by her own confusion to rejoice with Leslie.
“Maybe you should bring it up to Mr. Engle as a hypothetical situation. What if he’d rather fire me for a girl with no children?”
“I’ll tell him how fundamentally wrong he is and sic Cynthia, Kathy, and Dolores on him.”
Leslie’s eyes shimmered with admiration. “Boy, am I glad you’re on my side.”
“I’m not doing this for your benefit,” Alice said with a smirk. “If you quit, I’ll be stuck having lunch every day with that bubblehead Julie or Myrna the dinosaur. Some choice.”
“Aww, it’s so nice to feel wanted,” Leslie said.
They elbowed each other playfully as Alice backed the car out and drove off.
*
After Alice returned from her brief diversion at Branford Point, she thanked her sister for a delicious dinner by washing pans and loading the dishwasher. Memories of Leslie were still breaking out all over her face.
“I wish I could read your mind,” Mary Ellen said. “Something awfully good’s going on in there.”
Alice blushed. “This visit’s made me nostalgic.”
“I’m sure. We’ll have to open a bottle of wine and talk about it.” Her sister took the dish towel out of Alice’s hand. “Go keep Dave company. I’ll have the coffee out in a minute.”
The Second Wave Page 4