The Rejected Writers' Book Club (Southlea Bay) (12 page)

“Come on,” he said imploringly. “I’m just getting the hang of this one.”

“Dan, I can’t. I’m exhausted.”

“Pleeease,” he pleaded.

After the second boogie-woogie, both couples came back to the table, flushed and breathless.

Ethel arrived back from the bathroom too. She looked horrified to see Osborne was now sitting with us, looking like a hopeful puppy. She sat as far away from him as possible and glared at him across the table.

I distracted him, asking him about his job. He told me how he’d been a broom salesman for many years, until the company had gone out of business because of all those “infomercials,” he said with obvious bitterness. He went on to explain how he now worked at a chain home improvement store.

The announcer from the stage cut across our conversation.

“Okay, ladies! Now it’s your turn to be brave. The next one will be the Ladies Excuse Me dance. Time to ask the man of your dreams to dance, but remember, at any time another lady can come and ask him too, stealing your partner away from you.”

There was a general sound of merriment all around us as people plotted whom they were going to ask and whom they were going to steal.

Doris was first on her feet. “Come on, Ernie,” she said decisively. “You can dance with me, and with any luck, someone will come and take you right off my hands.”

Ernie chuckled and was up on his feet too. “That I don’t doubt, me being as good-looking and such a catch as I am. You may just be sad to let me go!”

Osborne looked hopefully at Ethel, who had her arms firmly folded and her eyes boring a hole into her water glass. I was just about to ask Osborne to dance when Annie beat me to it. “Osborne, would you care to join me? I would be really honored if you would dance with me.”

As they left, I overheard Annie whisper to him, “Let’s see if we can make her a little jealous, shall we?”

He beamed, taking Annie tightly by the arm as she threw back her head in an exaggerated laugh as they headed toward the dance floor.

Ethel watched and appeared to fume.

Flora had just stood up when Marcy suddenly appeared. “Danny!” she said, full of sparkles and light. “Would you do me the honor of dancing with me? It’s been a long time.”

Dan gulped back his drink. He appeared to be playing for time.

Flora slumped down next to me. I wasn’t sure how this was going to play out, but it wasn’t going to be pretty.

“Oh, I’m not sure,” said Dan. “I just got off the dance floor. I’m pretty tired.”

Marcy threw back her head and screeched with laughter.

“Danny Cohen, tired? If you were planning to get rid of me, you’d never do it with that line. You can outlast all of us. I could tell you some stories about Danny, especially back when he was dating my sister. We all had a little crush on him back then. Remember, Danny? Now, Danny, are you going to dance with an old friend or not?”

Dan reluctantly rose to his feet.

Flora looked as if she might cry at any moment. She picked up her water glass, and her hand was shaking so hard she spilled it straight down her dress. “Dammit!” she berated herself and burst into tears. She ran from the table in the direction of the bathroom.

I followed her to the powder room. She was sitting in front of the vanity, dabbing at her eyes with a hankie.

“It’s a stupid dress anyway. I mean, everyone is here in evening wear, and this is the only thing I have that’s even a little appropriate. I look ridiculous!”

“No, you don’t.” I took her hand as I would my own daughter. “You look beautiful.”

“But all these girls here looked sophisticated and elegant.”

I suppressed a grin because even though the girls here all seemed to look nice, they were far from my idea of sophisticated.

“It’s not what you wear,” I reminded her gently. Then, edging toward the real issue, “Dan seems to like what you’re wearing. He hasn’t taken his eyes off you all evening.”

“I don’t know why,” she said quietly. “There are so many pretty girls here, and it sounds like he’s very popular with them here in Medford. I can’t compete with that.”

“Who said anything about competing? As far as I can see, if his actions are anything to go by, his heart is already won.”

Flora allowed herself a bashful smile. “Do you think he really likes me?”

I was back in middle school.

“If he doesn’t, he’s a masterful actor. Everything I’m seeing in his eyes and his actions is saying so.”

“I just feel so plain and silly. I never really had a relationship before, and I can’t think what he sees in me when there are all these confident, attractive women that have been in his life!”

“Listen to me, Flora. You are kind, gentle, genuine, and lovely. And I can’t think of qualities that are more attractive in a human being. Dan sees all of those amazing things about you and likes them too. Don’t let self-doubt rob you of at least seeing where this relationship could go. If he had wanted the likes of Marcy, he would still be living here, wouldn’t he?”

Flora cheered a little and blew her nose.

“Come on. Dan went to a lot of trouble to give us all a wonderful evening. Let’s not let Marcy spoil it for you.”

“You’re right.”

She blew her nose again, then was suddenly on her feet and out the door. She strode back into the ballroom, a new confidence in her step. As we started toward the table, it was as if she suddenly headed for the dance floor instead.

I watched her walk up to Dan and Marcy and say in a clear, strong voice, “I believe this is a Ladies Excuse Me, and I would like to dance with your partner.”

Dan’s face lit up.

Marcy reluctantly let Dan go, and Dan took Flora’s hand. They danced off into the crowd, leaving a very disgruntled-looking Marcy.

I was walking back to the table when I caught sight of a red-faced Ethel watching Osborne and Annie like a hawk. I couldn’t resist giving Osborne an extra boost.

I tapped Annie on the shoulder, saying, “I’d like to steal your partner from you, if you don’t mind.” I gestured with my head to our table and the beady-eyed Ethel.

Annie understood instantly. “I’m not sure,” she said in a rather loud voice so Ethel could hear us. “He’s a marvelous dancer,” she gushed.

Ethel huffed and folded her arms harder across her chest.

But Annie played along. “I suppose I have to, as this is the Ladies Excuse Me.”

Osborne seemed ecstatic to be fought over and eagerly escorted me around the dance floor. When we returned to the table, all seemed right with the world. Osborne was walking with his head a little higher, Doris and Ernie were convulsing in laughter, and Flora and Dan floated back to the table, all love and light. Flora looked different somehow, as if that one heroic act of confronting Marcy had opened up the door to a new strength in her.

At the end of the night, Doris and Ernie exchanged phone numbers, and Osborne informed us it had been the happiest night of his life. He gave a sideways glance at Ethel and said, “I would love to see you all again sometime.”

Annie gave him her home phone number, adding, “Give us a call sometime. We would all love to see you in Southlea Bay if you’re ever in the area.”

Back at the house, I put on the kettle in the kitchen. Walking past one of the large picture windows overlooking the lake, I stopped to admire the full moon shimmering over the water.

Gentle voices floated in from the porch. It was Dan and Flora. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I peeked out and saw him slowly cup her face with his hands and kiss her gently on the lips. Smiling, I crept away.

I saw Doris as she made her way into the kitchen and Ethel followed.

“I think we should have more dancing in Southlea Bay,” said Annie, as she and I walked down the hall together.

“That’s what Lavinia and Gracie are doing,” I said. “They called and told me they were up in Doris’s attic today getting the gramophone player, I think for their tea dance.”

Suddenly, there was a crash. We both jumped. Dan and Flora hurried in from outside. In the kitchen, we found Doris, pale and sitting in a chair. Ethel was fanning her with a dishtowel, and on the floor was a smashed mug of hot chocolate.

“Doris, are you okay?” I was really concerned.

She was sweating, breathing heavily, and couldn’t seem to talk.

“What is it?” implored Flora. “What’s wrong?”

Doris finally spoke. “Did I hear you say Momma was up in the attic?” she asked desperately.

“Well, yes, Lavinia said they were looking for a gramophone player.”

Doris loosened the collar buttons on her dress, and Annie got her a drink of water.

She looked right at me. “That’s where they are.”

I knew instantly what she meant. The stories. She’d hidden the stories in the attic.

“What?” asked Flora.

“They shouldn’t be up in the attic. I have valuable things up there. I need to call them.”

“Call who, Doris?” inquired Annie as she also got a cold cloth to put on Doris’s forehead.

“The twins. I have to call them and see what they did up there.”

Everyone looked utterly confused.

“They’re probably asleep,” I said. “It’s after twelve.”

Doris was adamant, and as she took my cell phone, I felt guilty for not telling her earlier about their call.

She punched in the number. It rang a few times; then we all heard Lavinia’s sassy voice on the answering machine.

Doris hung up, despondent.

I tapped her hand. “There’s nothing you can do tonight. We can call first thing in the morning.”

Doris reluctantly nodded, and we all went to bed.

Chapter Ten

CINNAMON ROLLS
&
COIN TRICKS

The next morning I woke up early. I had hardly slept a wink.

Doris was sitting in the kitchen, looking between my cell phone on the table and the clock on the wall.

“It’s going to be okay,” I assured her.

She nodded, but I could see she didn’t seem convinced.

“I’ve been calling since five. No answer.”

As the clock struck six, she called again, and this time we both heard the phone pick up and then Lottie’s soft Southern drawl. “My,” she said once she realized it was us, “you girls are up early. I like to be up early too so I can spend a little time with God before Lavinia gets up and all hell breaks loose, but this morning you seem to be up even before him.”

Doris came straight to the point.

“What did you take out of the attic yesterday?”

“Pardon?”

“The attic, what did you take out of the attic?”

“Oh, the gramophone, of course. We’re having our own little tea dance and—”

“Anything else?” snapped Doris.

“Why, no, I don’t think so,” said Lottie, sounding as if she were trying to think. “Wait. Gracie also bought down some records, I believe. Why? Doris, dear, are you hiding your crown jewels up there?”

“No,” responded Doris, a little too quickly for it to sound truthful. “I just . . . don’t want anyone up there. It’s dangerous. Someone could get hurt.”

“Okay, honey, we won’t go up there again if you don’t want us to. We don’t want you to worry while you’re away.”

“Good. Now, will you promise me?” The relief was now evident in her voice.

“Of course,” said Lottie, her tone indicating she was a little put out that her integrity was in question. “Is that all you wanted?”

“Yes.” Then she added, as if it were an afterthought, “How’s Momma doing?”

“She’s having a marvelous time. I think she thinks she’s at summer camp.”

“Good,” said Doris, going back to her usual brusque self. “I’ll call again later.”

“Okay, bye-bye then.” Lottie’s stilted tone implied that she was obviously a little confused by the early morning interrogation.

The relief was plain on Doris’s face.

“I told you it was going to be fine,” I said, yawning. “Now, I’m going back to bed to try and get some sleep. I suggest you do the same.”

Doris shook her head. “Ethel and I have cinnamon rolls to raise,” she said, and the declaration of that fact seemed to bring her back to life. I noticed the color had also returned to her cheeks.

Back in bed, I passed out, finally finding sleep after such a restless night.

When I woke, my face felt the chill of the first unmistakable fingers of frost while my body felt cozy and warm under the down comforter. All I wanted to do was turn over, pull the covers over my head, and go back to sleep. However, as I lay there contemplating that very thought, the unmistakable smell of cinnamon wafted under my doorway. I pushed my feet into my slippers, pulled on my fleecy robe, and headed for the bathroom.

The rest of the house was a hive of activity already. Annie was planted firmly in front of a roaring fire, knitting and watching the morning’s news. “Morning, sleepyhead,” she said playfully, then added in a quieter tone, “What was all that about last night?”

“Doris was worried about her momma being up in the attic,” I lied.

Shuffling toward the fire, I inhaled the scent of the fresh-brewed coffee. Ethel was setting the table with a charming tablecloth patterned with blue delphiniums and placemats to match. In the kitchen, Dan was wearing an apron, and Flora was seated up on a counter, smiling at him. He had a spoon to her lips, offering her a taste of something. Doris was at the stove, pulling a fresh batch of cinnamon rolls out of the oven. My “trying to keep it healthy” self was beaten into submission by the ten-year-old in me. I was salivating.

“Look who’s up. No point asking you if you got back off to sleep okay,” chuckled Doris.

“Why?” I inquired, yawning. “What time is it?”

“Nine thirty,” shouted Annie from her perch on the sofa.

“We were just going to come in to resuscitate you.”

“Nine thirty!” I repeated with surprise.

There was a hard rap on the front door.

“That will be Ernie,” piped up Doris with the kind of excitement reserved for Christmas Day visitors.

“I’ll get it,” called Dan, wiping his hands on his apron and heading for the front door.

I raced back to my room to get decent. I was back out, washed, and dressed in record time.

Ernie was holding court in the kitchen, telling jokes to Flora and Dan. As I came in, he’d obviously just delivered his punch line, as all three of them roared with laughter. They were extremely boisterous and obviously overwhelming our cook.

Doris raised a wooden spoon. “Now, all you kitchen do-gooders aren’t worth anything at all just hanging around visiting. Get out so the real workers can finish preparing the food. I can barely hear myself think, never mind turn in a full circle with you all cluttering up the place.”

Ernie raised his eyebrows and let out a low whistle. “Yes, sir,” he said as if answering a superior in the army and made his way out into the living room, saying over his shoulder, “I wouldn’t want to get in the way of anyone who intended to feed me.”

I quickly poured myself a coffee and then joined the rest of the group, who’d settled themselves around the fireplace. Ernie had started doing coin tricks to keep everyone amused.

“It’s in your right hand,” shouted Dan, guessing the latest place Ernie was hiding his nickel. “I already know this trick. You showed it to me when I was a kid.”

“Keep it quiet, young’un,” said Ernie with mock hostility. “I am trying to fool a whole new audience here.”

“It’s in your right hand,” repeated Flora, joking along.

“Well, I know you know that now,” scoffed Ernie. “Your boyfriend already told you.”

I saw Flora and Dan exchange glances and smile knowingly at each other. It was the first time anyone had referred to them as a couple.

Doris yelled from the kitchen as she removed her apron, “Get it while it’s hot!”

We gathered around the table like a happy family. It was chock-full with bacon, sausage, eggs, and toast, not to mention hot, steaming cinnamon rolls. Doris heaped delicious hot food onto our plates and placed a basket of warm bread rolls in the center. I inhaled the delightful aroma and realized I was ravenous.

Dan lifted up his glass of orange juice to us in a toast.

“To all the wonderful ladies of the Rejected Writers’ Book Club for being brave and determined. May all your letters be rejections and all your manuscripts be duds.”

We all laughed, and Doris echoed, “Hear, hear.”

As he polished off his second helping of bacon and toast, Ernie commented, “I don’t think I’ve seen a spread like this since last Thanksgiving. I sure hope you’re planning on staying around awhile!”

“Actually, we’re on our way today,” said Doris, tapping Ernie’s hand as he tried to reach for his third cinnamon roll. “You’ve had enough of those, mister!” she added sternly.

Ernie was jovial. “Oh, you don’t miss a trick,” he quipped back. “I like a woman who’s not only on her toes, but is also on mine.”

He brushed her leg under the table playfully. Doris was obviously taken aback but recovered quickly. “And don’t think you’ll be getting around me playing footsie like that. I’m not sixteen anymore.”

“You might not be in your teens,” he poked back at her, “but everyone knows the sweetest peaches take longer to mature.”

I was amazed they were flirting. Something about this area had brought Cupid out in force, with a stack of arrows to boot.

We washed the dishes all together, like the Waltons. “Here’s a spoon, Jim-Bob. Thanks, John-Boy. Into the drawer, Mary Ellen.”

Soon after, Ian walked in.

“Your car is all ready to roll and . . .” Then he stopped in midsentence as his nose caught up with him. “Wow,” he said, sniffing the air. “Looks like I missed a good brunch, by the smell of it.”

“There’s one last cinnamon roll I managed to wrestle away from Ernie,” shouted Doris from the kitchen, “and the coffee is still hot!”

“So, you’re the young man who fixed their car, are you?” Ernie said. “Could I pay you to unfix it? I can’t bear to see the back of the chili pepper and her beans. That is the best dang brunch I’ve had in a long while.”

Ian beamed and swallowed a mouthful of cinnamon roll, saying, “It’ll cost you. But you’re on if this cinnamon roll’s anything to go on.”

I stepped out for one last look at the lake before we left. It was magical. The frost was still heavy on the ground and glistening on the grass like frosted diamonds through muted sunlight. A lazy fog was just starting to roll out across the water. It gave the loons an eerie sound as it muffled their cries.

As I walked back toward the house, I noticed Flora sitting on a bench, staring pensively at the water, no doubt thinking about her new relationship. If I were a painter, I would have wanted to capture that moment on canvas.

We were all a little somber as we assembled in the driveway, each one of us quiet with our own thoughts.

Ernie broke the silence by admiring the limousine. “Nice wheels.”

“Thank you,” said Ian. “That’s our transportation back to the garage today.”

Ernie’s eyes twinkled as he asked, “Would you mind dropping me on the way? I would love to get under the skin of that old woman who lives across the road from me. ‘The curtain twitcher,’ I call her. She’ll bite her hand off at the wrist just to find out why I’m coming home in a limousine on a Sunday morning.”

“I would be delighted.” Ian laughed. “I’ll even wear my chauffeur’s hat if you want!”

Ernie smacked his hand across his knee. “That’s the spirit. That should keep her wringing herself in knots for weeks.”

We got into the car. Everyone piled in except Dan and Flora, who were in each other’s arms, saying their final good-byes. Eventually, climbing in, she sank into the corner of the backseat.

“It’s been wonderful meeting you all,” said Dan. “Maybe I’ll see you on your way back through Medford.”

Ian added, “You’re all welcome to stay here again if you want.”

We voiced our thanks and appreciation.

Then, suddenly, Ernie stuck his head in as well. “I can always do with a good feeding if ever you’re passing this way again.”

Doris thumped him playfully on the arm, saying, “You shouldn’t need feeding again until we come back in a week! But you have my phone number in case you need to remember me.”

“I’ll remember you whenever I pass a cinnamon roll,” he joked back.

Dan reached in and grabbed Flora’s hand for the last time. She thrust a piece of paper into his, which I surmised was probably one of her poems, and we drove away.

I looked in the rearview mirror as we did; the men were all lined up on the driveway, smiling and waving to us, all except Dan, who looked crestfallen. As soon as we rounded the corner, Flora burst into tears.

We all tried to cheer her up, but everything seemed to fall flat. It was like having a lovesick teenager. When we stopped for a bathroom break two hours later, Flora inside, Doris pulled us into a huddle.

“You know that girl has never been in love before. That’s what the problem is. She’s going to be hard work for a few days, no doubt.”

When Flora came back, Ethel suddenly sneezed. “I don’t feel so good,” she said, blowing her nose on a coffee shop napkin.

“I hope you haven’t got the Lurgy,” said Doris unsympathetically.

“I have an aspirin,” said Annie, fishing one out of her purse.

Ethel eyed it distrustfully before eventually giving in and taking it as she sneezed again.

Doris offered to drive, and as we started up again, I must admit I was relieved. I hated mountain driving, and I knew that would be the next leg of our journey.

We got underway again. Ethel sniffed and Flora sobbed. I personally couldn’t think of anything better for a poet’s work than a little pining. Doris tried to find a country music channel, which was almost impossible as we started to climb into the mountains. Next to me, Annie flipped on her soap. I didn’t want to admit it, but secretly I couldn’t wait to find out what would happen next.

The doctor’s wife had arranged a secret meeting with the guy she’d hired to put the hit on her husband, who coincidently just happened to be the same guy back from the war, who now believed he was an assassin. He, the assassin, was unaware that his girlfriend, the secretary, was having an affair with the doctor he was being hired to kill. In the meantime, the doctor had mysteriously gone missing, and the big clincher to the episode was . . . that the baby the secretary was carrying may or may not be even human at all. Apparently, the secretary may have been impregnated during an alien abduction in which her memory had been wiped clean.

Annie and I watched intently as the envelope containing the test results of the baby was slowly opened. The camera closed in on her shocked face, and as she opened her mouth to speak . . .

A loud bell rang out. Both Annie and I screamed. It was the FaceTime alert.

Annie hit the “Accept” button, and the faces of the other ladies from the Rejection Club swam into view.

“Hi, y’all,” said Lavinia. “Here we are again.”

Ruby’s face popped onto the screen. She still looked a little under the weather. She was wearing what appeared to be a white turban adorned with gold-sprayed fruit and looked like a red-nosed Christmas Carmen Miranda.

“Look, it’s me, back in the land of the living.”

We all shouted our hellos.

It was hard to hear very well, as the car was starting to climb, and the strain of the engine noise was drowning out all other sound. Ruby was waving at us, as were Lottie and Gracie, who was still wearing her pink sparkly boa. I made out that they were having an impromptu meeting of the Rejection Club and were going to share some stories. The engine roared.

“What are they saying?” bellowed Doris from the front.

“They’re having a Rejection Club meeting,” I shouted back.

“How are the dogs?” she yelled. “Ask how they are.”