by Lois Winston
“Talk to themselves, I guess,” said Claire.
“I do some of that, too,” I admitted. “More and more lately. But I pretend I’m talking to the dogs. Let’s talk about something else instead of Jim and the Davis Rhodes mess for a while. You know we’ll just have to go over the whole thing again when Nancy gets here. She hates to miss anything.
“What do you think is up with Mary Alice? You said she was mysterious on the phone about this lunch meeting of hers. That’s not like her at all.”
“I was thinking about her on the way over here,” said Claire. “And I had a really crazy idea. Do you think she has a lover?”
I choked on my iced tea. “Good God,” I sputtered. “Mary Alice have a lover? What put that idea in your head?”
“It’s not as crazy as you think, Carol,” said Claire. “She’s very attractive, and she’s been a widow for over fifteen years. Do you think she joined a convent when Brian died?”
“I don’t know. I never thought about it.” I frowned a little. “She’s never mentioned anything about dating to any of us, at least not to me.”
At that moment, the kitchen door burst open and Nancy rushed in, carrying more food. “Who never mentioned anything about dating?” she asked. “Here, Claire, take this bag from me. It’s got chocolate ice cream and hot fudge sauce inside and the ice cream is melting. Thanks. So how are you doing, sweetie?” This last was directed at me. “Have you decided to ditch Jim and start dating? That’s an interesting way to deal with all this stress.”
“Very funny,” I retorted. “We were talking about Mary Alice. She told Claire that she couldn’t come for lunch today because she had some appointment that she couldn’t break. Claire says she sounded very mysterious.”
“I’m dying to speculate about Mary Alice’s love life, but before we get to that, can you fill me in on what happened this morning, Carol? Was it awful for you?”
I gave Nancy the highlights of what had happened, including Sheila’s television show interview, Jim’s phone call, and the police visit. Of course, being Nancy, she kept interrupting me every other minute with questions and observations and suggestions. By the time I was finished, Claire had served up lunch for all of us, courtesy of the heavenly takeout menu of Maria’s Trattoria.
One of the many advantages of having friends who know both me and my kitchen so well is that there was no need for me to jump up and help. Claire, Nancy and Mary Alice all know where the silverware is kept, which are the everyday and the “best” dishes, where the good and not-so- good glasses are, as well as which drawer holds my place mats and napkins. They also know where I hide my good jewelry and who are the beneficiaries of Jim’s and my estate. My entire family, including Lucy and Ethel, adore them. So in a pinch, any one of them could just move right in and take over my life without missing a beat.
“It sounds like you handled yourself pretty well, Carol,” Nancy said, high praise indeed coming from her. “Having Mark Anderson interview you must have made it easier.”
“He was really sweet to me,” I said, “but his partner scared the daylights out of me. He was a classic example of Short Stature Syndrome. What is it with short men and power trips anyway?”
“Show Nancy the picture you found,” Claire suggested. “See if she remembers when it was taken.”
I whipped out the picture of Jenny and Mark. “Do you remember that he was sweet on her at one time?”
“You know, I think I do remember.” Nancy squinted at the picture. “I bet this was taken when they were going to the eighth-grade prom. I recognize the dress Jenny’s wearing.”
“You’re amazing,” I exclaimed. “How in the world do you remember that?”
Nancy shrugged. “Don’t give me too much credit. My Terry wore that same dress the following year to her eighth-grade prom. She borrowed it from Jenny. Don’t you remember? We used to share good dresses between the girls because it didn’t make sense to spend a lot of money on something that would only be worn once.”
“Yes, like bridesmaids’ dresses,” said Claire. “I wish I had a dollar for every wedding I was in where the bride told me I could have the dress altered and wear it again. Never happened.
“So, Nancy,” Claire continued, switching conversational gears rapidly, “Carol and I were wondering if you knew anything current about Mark Anderson. Is he dating anyone? Did he ever get married? Is he straight or gay? He and Jenny sure were good friends back when they were in school.”
“I think I heard a while ago that Mark was serious about some girl from Westfield.” Nancy furrowed her brow in concentration. You could always count on Nancy to have the story.”They were engaged, but they never made it to the altar. I think she ditched him for another guy the week before the wedding. Broke his heart.”
“Aha,” said Claire. “That’s very interesting. Maybe we should all work on a plan to throw him and Jenny together and see what happens.”
“Now wait a minute,” I protested. “I don’t want to manipulate my daughter’s love life.”
“Yeah, sure,” said Nancy. “You think we believe that one? Speaking of a love life, what’s this about Mary Alice having a lover? She never said anything to me about it.”
“Claire is just speculating, because when she called Mary Alice to come to lunch, she said she couldn’t get here until later this afternoon,” I explained. “And Claire has jumped to the completely unsubstantiated conclusion that Mary Alice is having a mid-day rendezvous.”
“Hmm.” Nancy looked thoughtful. “You may not be far from the truth. I confess I’ve tried to bring up the subject with her a few times. I even tried to fix her up once or twice, remember? She’s refused to tell me anything. But she must have some sort of love life. She’s still an attractive woman.”
“That’s exactly what I said,” Claire replied triumphantly. “But little Miss Priss here,” pointing her finger at me, “refuses to admit the possibility. Face it, Carol, you never were comfortable talking about men and sex, even when we were teenagers and it was practically all we were thinking about.”
“That’s not true.” I tried to defend myself. “I just think that some things are very personal and shouldn’t be discussed, even with your closest friends. But that doesn’t mean I’m Miss Priss, thank you very much.”
“Boy, did the nuns ever do a job on you in high school,” said Nancy. “Now, who could Mary Alice be seeing? Oh, I know. I’ll bet it’s Ron Harrison. His wife died two years ago from breast cancer, and he’s certainly attractive. Got quite a bit of money, too. Made a killing in the real estate market, so he’s set for life. He’d be quite a catch.”
“I’ve got to admit that when it comes to helping me take my mind off my troubles, you two are the best,” I said. “But I think gossiping about Mary Alice when she’s not here is kind of disloyal.”
“Come on, Carol,” Nancy shot back at me. “Being interested in one of your best friends’ personal life isn’t disloyal. We’re concerned because we care. Claire, who do you think it is?”
“Well, I was thinking about Ed Whitford.”
“Oh, I hope not,” Nancy said. “I’m sure he wears a toupee. And a bad one at that. We have to set higher standards for Mary Alice.”
“You guys are awful,” I said, laughing. “I didn’t think anything could make me feel better today, but you’ve done it.
I heard knocking at the kitchen door, and the dogs started to bark. “She’s here,” I said. “Don’t say anything right away. Just let her sit down and have some iced tea or something before you both start cross-examining her.”
Before I could get to the door, Mary Alice had let herself in. We don’t stand on ceremony at my house. “Honey, I’m so sorry I’m late,” she said, throwing her arms around me and giving me a kiss on the cheek. “You know I would have been here earlier if I could have. I want to hear everything. But first, have I got news for all of you!”
I took a good look at her. Her eyes were shiny and her cheeks were glowing. Claire and Nancy exchanged knowi
ng glances.
“We know what you’re going to tell us,” Nancy assured her. “We figured it out, you sly devil. Who’s the guy? You look like you’ve just had a fabulous romantic interlude. Come on, give.”
Mary Alice threw back her head and laughed so hard she finally had to wipe her eyes.
“You all are a hoot. And you’re also dead wrong. There’s no guy.” She paused dramatically, then announced, “I’ve just spent my lunch hour with the human resources person at the hospital. I’m going to retire next month.”
I had to admit that, for once in our lives, we were all speechless.
FOURTEEN
Re-tir-ing: adjective; drawing back from contact with others, from publicity, etc.; reserved; modest; shy.— Webster’s Dictionary
But we were only quiet for half a second. Then we all started talking at once.
“Mary Alice, my God!” Nancy screamed in her usual restrained way. “You’re kidding!”
“I can’t believe it,” said Claire. “What are you going to live on? Have you talked to a financial planner? Remember, when I retired Larry was still working. We had to plan our finances very carefully once he decided to retire, too.”
“Never mind what you’re going to live on,” I said. “What are you going to do with your time to keep from going nuts?”
Mary Alice held up her hands in mock surrender.
“Okay, okay. I’ll tell you everything. But first I want a big dish of chocolate ice cream with extra fudge sauce. I know Nancy must have brought some today. It’s one of the basic survival tools for dealing with any crisis we’ve ever had. And I want to hear what’s happening with you and Jim, Carol.”
Nancy obediently headed toward the freezer. “I’ll get it for you, Mary Alice. But when it’s your turn, talk loud. I don’t want to miss a word.” Since both Claire and Nancy had heard all the details of Jim, Sheila’s television appearance, and my visit from the police, I kept my story short. That was pretty easy, because Nancy wasn’t interrupting me all the time.
“I’m very worried about Jim,” I admitted, wrapping up my sad tale. “I was so scared when the police came. But maybe they won’t be back, and the autopsy will prove that Rhodes died of natural causes. That’ll be the end of it. I’m praying that Jim isn’t fired before all this is straightened out. But there’s nothing I can do about saving his job. He’s on his own with that.” At this point, I was sick and tired of talking about Jim and Davis Rhodes. It was time to change the subject. “Enough of this,” I said. “Tell us what’s up with you, Mary Alice. This is a pretty momentous decision you’ve made.”
Mary Alice took a bite from the large dish of ice cream Nancy had set in front of her. “Umm. Yummy. I always think better when I have chocolate.”
“Enough of this stalling,” Claire said impatiently. “Details. We want details. When we had lunch a few weeks ago, I remember you talked about retiring. But you didn’t say you were going to do it now. Are you sure this is a good idea? You’re such a terrific nurse.”
“That’s a typical reaction of yours, Claire,” Mary Alice said. “When I decided to go to nursing school, you tried to talk me out of it. You thought I should go to medical school instead.”
Claire started to protest, but Mary Alice cut her off. “Don’t worry. I forgave you a long time ago. If I hadn’t gone into nursing, I wouldn’t have met Brian. Marrying him was the best thing that ever happened to me. When he went into private practice, well,” her voice trailed off, “it was so wonderful to be his office nurse. We were great partners. Then, he died.”
We were all silent, remembering the shock of Brian’s death when he was only forty-three from a car accident. Life sure was unfair sometimes.
Mary Alice’s eyes filled with tears. Then she composed herself and went on. “Not that I’m feeling sorry for myself. Other people have coped with situations more traumatic than mine, and besides, I had the boys to take care of. I couldn’t allow grief to take over my life. Working at the hospital was my salvation during the early years after Brian’s death. But now, on top of all the paperwork I seem to spend my entire time doing, the shift schedule at the hospital is always changing. I just hate working nights, and I’ve had more than my share of them the past year or so. At my age, I’d much rather be vegging out in front of the television at ten o’ clock at night than getting into my uniform and heading off to work.”
Mary Alice paused, took another bite of ice cream, and savored it. “Then, I got the form that Social Security sends out every year. We all get one. It’s called ‘Your Social Security Statement.’ It tells your estimated benefits when you decide to retire, broken down by year. Do you know the one I mean?”
“I always throw those things away,” Nancy said. “After all, we’re much too young to begin collecting benefits.”
“You shouldn’t throw those things away,” scolded Claire. “It has all your personal information on it. You have to be very careful about identity theft these days. I hope you at least shredded the form first.”
Mary Alice jumped in before Nancy could defend herself. “I know it’ll be a few years before I’m eligible to apply for benefits, but that form started me thinking. When I really looked at the numbers on the form, I realized that it was financially smart to apply to receive benefits as soon as I could.”
“I just hope the country still has Social Security when we’re all eligible to collect,” Nancy said, wanting to show us that she wasn’t completely ignorant about the system. “You never know what the government’s going to cut these days to save money. Remember how we all used to joke that we were such fun to be with that we should start a business and be paid just for being us? Maybe sitting back and collecting Social Security is that business.”
Mary Alice rolled her eyes at Nancy, then said, “Anyway, that Social Security form inspired me to start crunching some more numbers. I figured out what I need to live on. My mortgage is all paid off, so that’s not a problem. I’m not a spendthrift, and the boys are grown and out of the house. They only ask me for money occasionally.”
We all laughed. Who couldn’t identify with that?
“I finally decided to talk to the hospital human resources people. There’s a real shortage of nurses these days, and they don’t want to lose me completely. So we’ve reached an agreement where I’ll officially retire from the hospital nursing staff next month. But I’ll come back as a part-time consultant, and also teach a few courses at the nursing school. I’ll keep all my medical benefits, and I can also do some private-duty nursing. I can finally get back into direct patient care again, which is what I’ve wanted for a long time. My fabulous lunchtime ‘romantic’ interlude was with the head of human resources at the hospital, where I officially signed my retirement papers. So congratulate me, you guys. I’m starting an exciting new adventure! Who knows where it will lead?”
“I am so jealous,” Nancy admitted. “And proud of you for taking the plunge.”
“I’ll tutor you in Retirement 101,” said Claire, “just like I tutored you in conversational French back in sophomore year of high school. Remember, you got an A in that class, thanks to me.”
“You both are the best,” said Mary Alice. “Thanks for the encouragement and the support. What do you think about this, Carol? You’re very quiet, and that’s not at all like you.”
“I guess I don’t know how to react,” I said honestly. “On the one hand, I’m thrilled that you’ve made a decision to do something you obviously want to do. But on the other hand, the word ‘retirement’ is kind of a dirty word around here these days. And I guess I’m afraid that if I tell Jim about your plans, it’ll start him off on his own tangent all over again.”
Mary Alice looked hurt at my lack of enthusiasm for her decision. It was obvious she was hoping for one hundred percent support from our group. I knew I had to add something positive.
“I’m also a little disappointed, Mary Alice.” I waited just a beat before I added, “I was hoping you were having an affai
r so that we all could share in it vicariously!” Everyone whooped and yelled over that one.
“But Carol, don’t you see?” asked Mary Alice. “Now that I’m going to retire from the hospital, I’ll finally have the time to have an affair. I just need to find the man.”
FIFTEEN
Q: Among retirees what is considered formal attire?
A: Tied shoes.
“I saw Mark Anderson today,” I said to Jenny. She had come home from school earlier than usual, probably because she was worried about her father, and the two of us were preparing dinner together. It was a very cozy domestic scene.
“What do you mean, Mom?” Jenny asked. “Didn’t Daddy say last night that Mark’s a policeman now? What happened?”
“He and his partner dropped by this morning to ask me a few questions about Davis Rhodes. Background stuff. You know. It was no big deal.” Liar. You were scared to death. I gave Jenny a big smile to emphasize my point, but her look told me she wasn’t buying my feeble attempt at false bravado. I wanted to head her off before she starting asking me more questions I didn’t want to answer, so I added, “Mark’s certainly grown up to be handsome. He reminded me of Brad Pitt. Down, girls.” Lucy and Ethel, sensing the possibility of my dropping a morsel or two from the vegetables I was chopping, were dancing around my legs.
“Mom, don’t try to change the subject. Weren’t you nervous? Does Dad know the police were here?”
“I haven’t talked to your father since early this morning,” I said. “I didn’t see the point of calling him at the office and taking the chance of getting him all upset. He should be home in a little while. I’ll tell him then.”
“It sure seems like a long time since Davis Rhodes died,” Jenny said, “even though it was just last night. So much has happened. I was talking about it at school today with Linda Burns.”
“Linda Burns? I hope you didn’t tell her about Dad’s finding the body.”