Back to Madeline Island (22 page)

“Are you ready, darling? What's wrong, are you crying?”

“I hadn't realized, damn, now I have to do my eyes all over again and I'm not even out of my bedroom. Lately I'm so emotional.” I slump down onto my bed, just missing Rocky, who lets me know with a few “meows.”

Ruby sits next to me. “When was your last period? Or do I have to spell it out for you?”

“Oh double shit. No wonder I got all sobby when Johnny said I have more gray than Howard has silver…and I suppose it might be the reason I have three unopened boxes of tampons under the sink. Is denial a disease? Does this mean I can stop the birth control pills and look forward to a dried-out—”

“Eve Moss! Your vagina doesn't simply become a dusty old thing—good heavens. I've read in that
O
magazine that women have a normal sex life well after menopause—what's so jolly funny?”

“Ruby—do you see any
men
around here? Normal sex life, I would settle for
a
sex life, let alone a
normal
one. Is there really such a thing?”

“We could ask the boys,” Ruby offers and I smile. “‘Course there's absolutely nothing
normal
about those two now, is there.”

“Thank God.”

“Now—as far as the sex thing goes, darling…” Ruby stands to leave. “If you've any questions, just ask me.”

 

While walking out the back door, we take jackets from off the basement door; I managed to repair my makeup and then redid my hair so I feel better. It's down and curly and I'm loving all the layers, even though it's well over my shoulders. Johnny did some fancy stuff to make it move more, so I'm tossing my head around and feeling very sassy. Speaking of tossing, I also tossed the tampons out; I had several more boxes than I realized. Talk about lacking good coping skills. One more thing I would have liked to call my mom up and talked about. Oh well, how can you top the “dry vagina” chat with Ruby?

“Shall we go?” Ruby asks.

Then we hear a loud crash upstairs and seconds later Rocky zooms down the stairs, flies over the sofa, leaps onto the coffee table—and then pauses. He's got something furry and squirming in his mouth. He looks over our way and then leaps off the table and dashes down the hallway toward the library.

“Do you care to investigate, darling?” Ruby asks cool as a goblet of chablis.

“Are you nuts? Let's get the hell out of here.”

 

“Knock knock,” I say as I open the side door of a hallway that eventually leads into the boys' designer kitchen. “There are two hungry broads come a calling!”

“Get on in here, ladies,” Howard booms. He is dressed in jeans, a soft denim button-up and bare feet. “Look what the cat dragged in.”

We get hugs, even though we parted only hours ago. I love that.

“Speaking of cats,” Ruby offers. “Our Rocky was just about to offer us a delicious snack, but we declined as yours are
far
superior.”

“You two look
great
,” Johnny gushes, all sexy in flannel and faded jeans. He's tossing a salad in an enormous wooden bowl. “Pour them some wine, would you, dear?”

“Please do,” I say and thump down on a love seat facing the kitchen area. “I am so keyed up about tomorrow, but Sam has this
feeling
.”

Johnny stops tossing midair. “No ghosts or anything popping in to ruin the cake—right?”

“She wouldn't say.” Ruby reaches for a goblet from Howard. “Thank you, darling. I don't think it's anything we need to worry over—what did she say again?” She sends me a wink.

I get up and join the others around the island. “Things just gotta run their course is all,” I say in my perfect Sam voice and everyone laughs.

“To things running their course, then,” Ruby offers and we all clink.

“Speaking of courses, what's this?” I ask, pointing to a beautiful crystal dish.

“Delicious Beluga caviar. We just got a tin of it from one of Howard's friends.”

“Oh man.” I lean against the counter. “Just when I thought I was all through with
eggs
.”

Ruby picks up the dish and puts it carefully into their sleek fridge. “Perhaps we'll
skip
that course.”

F
inally, the day has thundered down to—
voilà
—the wedding! As you can imagine, we've been running around like chickens with their heads whacked off; whoever came up with that one, it certainly paints a pretty picture. But speaking of pretty, the day looks absolutely beautiful.

Stretching, I slowly am coming to; soft sunlight is just beginning to peek into my bedroom window, the birds outside have begun to sing their morning compositions, and boy, are they loud! Rocky's still snoring among several of my pillows; he was out late chasing the moon. I give him a pat, then change my mind and scoop him into my robe-clad arms. Stepping into chilly slippers, together we seek out some java.

At the top of the stairs, I glance down, taking stock of the living room. The growing collection of round mirrors along the wall above the stairs are reflecting the morning sun; some are picking up the rippling waves from the lake, so the walls have become a silent disco room. It's dizzying and magical and reminds me of fireflies I used to be so mesmerized by as a child when summer had finally come to Wisconsin.

I set Rocky down on a stool in the kitchen, load up the coffeepot, slide it onto a burner and wait for its noisy percolating to begin. Opening up the shutters over the sink, I take up one of the rocks sitting on the sill. Many of the sills around the cottage have rocks tucked in their corners from various places up here. I can easily remember each find's history. Holding one in my hand, like now, calms me. I can see the rush of the river I used to walk alongside in Eau Claire, smiling; I can glimpse the life I had back there.

But I'm here now and this is going to be one humdinger of a day! The pot starts to percolate. Turning it down a bit, I fire up a cancer-stick and blow a perfect circle, which swirls up and then slowly drifts away. Rocky purrs against my ankle, I give him a nice rub behind his ears, and then we stroll down the hallway and into my cottage salon. Helen's dress hangs ready. I take it down and then hold it against myself, studying my reflection in the round mirror attached to the waterfall dresser.

“What do you think?” I turn this way and that for Rocky. He sits down and then starts licking clean his rear—is that a
sign
or something?

“I think you look lovely, darling,” Ruby says in the doorway. Dressed in a cobalt blue kimono, her sleepy eyes regard me with kindness. “It's a perfect day for a wedding, don't you think? Come along and let's take coffee down to the dock, shall we?”

I rehang the gown up and follow her back into the kitchen. “We've such a busy day ahead.” I take the pot off the stove and pour us mugs. Ruby takes one from me and then reaches up and grabs my cigarette, takes a drag and then snubs it out.

“Vile things, really.”

We sleepily stroll through the living room, with Rocky trotting close behind. The screen door smacks closed. As we meander down the path leading to the lake, I take in the neat rows of folding chairs facing the dock. Lilly's tent creation is very romantic with its sweeping arches and gathered canvas at the corners, making the food area look more like a movie setting for—a garden wedding! Imagine that.

At the end of the dock, we thump down and hang our legs over the side. We're not about to dip toes in, as it's just too darn chilly yet.

“Thank
heavens
,” Ruby says, “Helen only wanted a
small
gathering—we certainly couldn't handle hundreds here. My wedding was enormous, and looking back, I
so
would have preferred something more on the order of this, but Ed's mother insisted on
big
and it was her way or nothing—period.”

“Apparently her mom's not given her
too much
grief over wanting it here. But she's made it crystal clear she doesn't completely approve. She had dreams of her daughter walking down the aisle of the family church in Edina, just like her other daughter. Talk about heaving on the guilt, but at least she's coming. God, I'm getting so nervous thinking about meeting her.”

“Helen is a
grown
woman, darling, and so is her mother—and so are we—for that matter, and don't you think enough time has passed that we couldn't all simply jolly well get
along
?”

“I sure as hell hope so—is it too early for a drink?”

 

The cottage has never been so busy—like a bee's nest—it's humming with activity. Howard's been keeping a keen eye on the weather, via the Internet and his high-tech weather-measuring equipment, and so far the sky is clear. There
is
a storm brewing, but it's far, far away. We're keeping our fingers crossed.

“I have never been so pampered,” Helen comments to her reflection. “I love the way my hair turned out. I wasn't sure if I'd like it curly, but I really love it.”

Standing behind her, I pin one more curl up. “Okay, close your eyes and no one breathe!” I hit the button on the hairspray and give her up-do a good shellacking. “Now let me put a touch more cheek color on that perfect skin of yours and I'd say you're ready. I can't believe your mom didn't want to come be with us all—I haven't had a second to so much as say
hi
to her. I am sooo happy she's here, though.” Now if these butterflies in my stomach would just leave me alone; what if she hates me?

Sam clucks her tongue from the chair next to us. “She's too busy directing Bonnie and Marsha. That woman's got more diamonds on than seems possible; you see her necklace?” Sam asks. She's a “voluptuous diva” in a moss green shift; silver drop earrings lie against her mocha skin. She pats on deep red lip color, occasionally tossing her long mane.

Helen sighs. “What can I say? My mother has always over-dressed. She even
gardens
in full makeup and I've
never
seen her sweat.”

Should I tell her Ruby and I do housework in
full makeup
and aprons? Nah.

“Speaking of gardening,” Lilly lisps and I get panicky, “I could have
sworn
all those tulips bordering the boathouse were white. I mean there's
hundreds
of them, and now—they're
lavender
.” Her freshly backcombed silvery hair is swirled regally high, setting off her pewter gown; bifocaled eyes suspiciously regard me. “Now I realize I may be getting on in my days, but I know my tulips and I honestly thought…”

Sam shoots me a knowing look. I slide a tall can of hairspray in front of the guilty spray paint can. I know Helen's favorite color is lavender, so why the hell not mess with nature—a bit. If it rains, well, then Lilly will have her white tulips.

Ruby zooms into the room. “Eve Moss, you and I need to get into our frocks—pronto! The ferry we paid a fortune for has just dropped off the first load of guests at the end of the dock and someone has already fallen overboard.” Saved! My tulip secret is safe—for now.

“Ain't a party,” Sam says, tucking her bra strap underneath, “'til somebody falls in the lake.”

“Helen—you look simply divine, like a—beautiful princess bride.” Ruby comes over and stands next to me, Sam and Lilly join us, and we all gaze into Helen's eyes reflecting back at us.

A tear slides down Helen's cheek and then Rocky leaps onto the dresser and we all burst into laughter.

 

“There, perfect.” I blot my lips onto a hunk of toilet paper and give my curls a final pat.

Heading back into my bedroom, I take one final inspection of myself in the long mirrors attached to my wardrobe. Due to the grassy yard, none of us is in heels, so my dress is
truly
floor length. It's a pale yellow color, off the shoulders and showing off my girls just a tiny bit—why not? The gathered waist helps—as long as I don't breathe, I'm looking good! I turn and regard my ample rear, then sigh.

Ruby saunters in, does several turns, then poses against my bathroom doorframe, tossing back her chestnut bob with major attitude. She's in a stylish, aquamarine half-sleeve jacket and skirt number—size one. We both have Raven Redz nail color on, but her lip color is more ruby (naturally) than my pink frost gloss. Ruby comes over and we regard ourselves in my mirror.

“Pity,” Ruby says, putting her arm around my waist. “No matter
what
we do, we're
still
prettier than the bride.”

“No way. Helen is a showstopper. Listen—the music has started up.”

“I simply
love
the flute and…oh heavens…how divine, a harp.”

“Friends of theirs from the university. I've got an idea—c'mon.” I dash up the stairway leading to the tower room with Ruby right behind me.

“What a lovely sight,” Ruby says. “Right out of a movie, don't you think?”

Below us, the party is assembling. Guests mill about, talking and laughing, admiring our magical wedding creation. The dock is festooned with white velvet roping, looping from pole to pole and then swirling up an archway at the very end. Off to one side of the boathouse is Lilly's tent. Several groupings of well-dressed people sip from long-stemmed goblets glinting in the afternoon sun. Folding chairs on either side of the path, facing the lake, are slowly filling. A small boy wearing knickers is chasing a tiny girl dressed in white.

“Look at Ryan,” I say, pointing. “And those must be his parents next to him. Hey—there's Charlie. My, my, talk about
movie star
, with that hat, and even from here I can see he's in pinstripes. He sees us!” We wave and he tips his hat then nudges Sam, who gives us a wave, too.

“It's time,” I say. “God—this is one of those moments I'd like to
pause
—you know? Isn't it the most beautiful sight?”

“They deserve—everything,” Ruby pulls me toward the stairs. “Especially
us
. Now let's get going, we have a bride to deliver!”

We check ourselves once more in my bedroom and then head down, into the living room and out the front, through the porch. Just as I'm reaching for the screened door, Helen's mother appears out of nowhere and comes toward us.

“There you are.”

She's a poised, elegant woman, stick-straight posture adding to her already commanding height, yet there's something vulnerable in her eyes. Dressed in a glove-tight gown perfectly matching the color of Helen's wedding dress, she has pulled her hair severely tight into a chignon; diamonds glow from neck, ears, and off her many bracelets. She introduces herself—her name is Saundra—and we all “hello,” but I can tell there's more.

“Could I have a word with you—alone?” Saundra turns her cool blue eyes toward Ruby, who bows slightly then slips away and out the door; its ominous smacking sound makes me jump.

“Come have a seat over here.” I gather myself together, leading us over to a wicker set of chairs. “It's funny, but Helen looks a lot like you.”

“Thank you…yes.” Saundra smoothes back her perfect hair. “I've often heard that, especially when she was younger. Look—you have no idea how difficult this is for me.” She sighs and I can see her poise is taking a lot of energy.

“Saundra…I,” I stammer and could kick myself. “I never expected—anything—you know? I just—”

“My husband was a very controlling man…
very
. He wanted a family—
badly
—and when I learned I couldn't bear children, well, you know the rest. I did the best I could, but I never felt—connected.” She starts to snivel, then quickly catches herself. “She's done nothing but talk nonstop about you and Ruby and this place, and I see a change in her.” Saundra clasps and unclasps her hands.

“Look—I never meant to—”

Saundra's thin hand silences me. “Hear me out, please?” I nod and she continues. “I raised my children to be independent, to be confident…strong. But I couldn't let myself get too close. I guess I was afraid they'd never think of me as their
real
mother.” She sinks in her chair and I can feel her confusion.

“What a load of
shit
—sorry—but it is!” I'm on a roll here. “You raised a
wonderful
daughter. She's smart and funny
and
has great hair.” She actually grins. I've got a grin, too, but I need more;
she
needs more, I can tell. “Look—I was a little girl when I handed her over and all I prayed for—begged—was to have someone raise her with
love
. I
couldn't
be more grateful for the woman she's become. Your daughter is who she is because
you
were there—
you,
Saundra—not me. You did the best you could; hell, that's all any of us can do.”

“I—I don't know what I was expecting, but—thank you.” She straightens, then stands and offers me a hand.

“Oh, for pity's sake.” I give her a nice hug. Ever hug a tree? “Let's go and get her married.”

“Let's.”

 

Ruby and I climb up into the duck, which has been wrapped and swirled with white roping and bunches of flowers that are looped
just so
—to match the dock. We both turn and reach down to help Helen up.

“There we are,” Ruby puffs out. “Now be sure and duck down a bit extra, darling, so you don't catch that hair of yours on the awning here.”

The three of us head to the front of the duck. I start up the motor; Ruby and Helen sit next to me. I back us out of the barn and then we sneak down the driveway.

“This was such a
great
idea,” Helen gushes. “Are you sure those people next door won't mind us driving down their yard into the lake?”

“I sure hope not,” I offer. “We'll find out in a second here.”

I head us down the incline and off, across the bridge and up to the gate, turning right; I enter the very next driveway. Since we're on a slender finger of land, you can barely make out the outline of a cottage as I turn in.