The Hot Flash Club (29 page)

Alice folded her arms over her chest and leaned against the doorjamb. “And you think I should care because?” She glanced down the hall to the living room, where the party was still in full flow.

“Because your TransContinent employees are going to get the shaft if you don’t work with me on this. Barton wants to excise the whole bunch so all the Champion people have jobs! But
I
know, in the long run, that would be disastrous for the company. We need the expertise of both groups to make this merger work.”

Alice squinted her eyes at Alison. What Alison said was true enough.
If
she really meant it. “What does Melvin Watertown think?”

“He says he was rash, letting you go like that. He’s willing to eat humble pie, but first he asked me to make the first overture. Plus, he wants to be sure you and I think we can work together.”

“And why would—”

“Because,” Alison interrupted fervently, “I need friends! I just moved here! I don’t know anyone! I’m all a—”

A shrill cry rose above the friendly chatter in the living room.

A woman cried, “She’s Lars’s daughter?
You
’re Laura’s mother? But this is terrible! How could—I’m sorry—I never meant—Oh!”

Megan wailed.

“Wait here,” Alice ordered Alison.

Alice rushed to the living room in time to see Jennifer D’Annucio shove Megan into Faye’s arms, then stumble, scarlet-faced, from the room.

Alan pushed his way through the startled guests, managing to grab Jennifer’s arm just as she got to the front door. “Jennifer, what’s wrong?”

Jennifer wheeled on him, black hair flying. “What’s
wrong
? You lure me in so you can play this nasty trick on me? God, I’m so
humiliated
!”

“I don’t understand!” Alan pleaded.

“Oh,
please
don’t lie,” Jennifer spat.

“I’m
not
lying.” Alan looked desperate.

“You’re telling me you had
no
idea that Lars Schneider’s baby and mother-in-law were going to be here tonight!”

“Jennifer, I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

“I don’t believe you. You
had
to have known. You suckered me in so I would see that little baby and be confronted by Lars’s mother-in-law. You wanted me to feel like a trashy home wrecker! Well, I
do
! I hope you’re satisfied!”

“Are you
nuts
? Come on, Jennifer, calm down.”

“I never want to talk to you again!” Jennifer jerked away from his grasp and slammed out the door.

The other guests clustered together, buzzing like a hive of demented bees. Faye, face flushed, head lowered to avoid eye contact, wound her way into the kitchen, little Megan on her shoulder, taking deep shuddering breaths. Faye’s silk cardigan was wet with the baby’s tears.

Alan saw Alice standing there staring. “What’s going on, Mom?”

“This isn’t the time—”

His eyes blazed. “Tell me now.”

She knew full well how tenacious her son could be. “All right, but let’s go where we can have some privacy.” As they went past her office door, they passed Alison peering out, her eyes wide.

“Stay there,” she ordered Alison.

Alison nodded with alacrity.

Across the hall, her bedroom door opened and Gideon looked out. “Are you all right?”

“Fine. I’ll be back in a moment.”

With Alison in her office and Gideon in her bedroom, the only private place left was the guest bathroom off the hall. She pulled Alan in and shut the door. Before, the bathroom had seemed spacious, but it didn’t seem so then, with her huge, angry son in the room. Alice sat down on the bathtub rim.

Alan didn’t sit. “Okay, so tell me.” His voice was ominously low.

“Jennifer D’Annucio’s having an affair with Lars Schneider.”

“I know. What business is it of yours?” Alan demanded.

“Lars’s wife, Laura, is my friend Faye’s daughter. We thought that if Jennifer saw the baby, if she realized how much pain she could cause the helpless little creature, she’d break off with Lars.”

“Who’s
we
?” Alan asked.

“Doesn’t matter. What does matter—”

“So you set Jennifer up.”

“Hey, Alan, Jennifer’s the one having—”

“In the first place,” Alan said, biting his words off precisely, “Jennifer broke off with Lars this week. In the second place, I’m going to ask Jennifer to marry me.”

Alice nearly fell over backward into the tub. “What?”

“As soon as I’m divorced from Genevieve Anne.”

“But Alan, Jennifer’s white!”

“I knew you’d say that!”

“Well, I’m not making it up!”

“You didn’t like Genevieve Anne because she was too pretty, now you won’t like Jennifer because she’s white.”

“I didn’t say that, Alan.”

“You’re judgmental, Mother, and manipulative and
mean
!”

Alice’s head was spinning. “Could we discuss this later?”

“I’ve got nothing more to say to you.
Ever.
” He bolted from the room.

Alice sprinted after him. “Alan—”

Her bedroom door was shut, but Alison gawked from Alice’s study like a thoroughbred poking her head from a stall, yearning to join the race. In the living room, the guests had regrouped into chattering clusters. Faye was talking to Faraday and at the same time dangling a set of measuring spoons in front of Megan.

“Alan, wait,” Alice pleaded.

Ignoring her, Alan stormed into the corridor, nearly colliding with a handsome man with silver hair tied back in a ponytail.

“Sorry,” Alan muttered.

Ponytail watched Alan jab the DOWN button and disappear between the doors, which gasped pneumatically, as if in response to Alan’s mood.

Ponytail turned to Alice. “Is this Alice Murray’s home?”

“Yes,” Alice sighed, thinking,
now what!

“I’m Justin Quale. A friend of Shirley Gold’s. She told me I might want to attend this meeting. I’m sorry I’m late.”

“No problem. Come on in.” Why hadn’t Shirley told her about
this
guy, Alice wondered. In his jeans, white polo shirt, and black blazer, he looked cool enough for Shirley and savvy enough to be an investor. “Shirley’s over there. Excuse me, I’ve got—” It was too complicated to explain. Alison in one room, Gideon in the other—

She felt a hand on her arm. “Alice?”

She turned. “Marilyn? Are you okay?” Her friend looked flushed and shaky.

Marilyn tugged at the collar of her blouse. “I’m afraid I’m coming down with some horrible flu. I feel like I’m on fire. And my heart—”

Shirley joined them. “Are you all right, Marilyn?”

“I’m not sure.”

Shirley touched Marilyn’s forehead. “You’d better lie down. Can she use your bedroom, Alice?”

“Sure.” Alice turned to lead the way.

“Hello, Shirley.” Justin Quale stepped forward. “Sorry I’m late.”

“Justin!” Shirley’s face lit up. “I’m so glad you could make it. I need to check on something—Have a drink. I’ll be right back.”

Across the room, Faye rose, obviously wondering what the other three were up to. Adjusting Megan on her hip, she joined Shirley and Marilyn as they followed Alice down the hall.

In the door to Alice’s study stood Alison Cummings, gnawing her knuckles.

“You’d better go home,” Alice told her. “I’m not going to be able to talk with you any more tonight.”

“That’s okay!” Alison insisted. “I think I’ll stay! If you don’t mind!”

Alice shrugged. “Fine. There’s wine in the living room, and tea.” She led the small group into her bedroom.

Gideon jumped up. “What happened?”

“Marilyn feels ill.”

“Oh. Well, all right then. I’ll leave.”

Alice touched his arm. “Don’t go home,” she said softly. “Help yourself to some wine in the living room. I’ll be out pretty soon.”

When Gideon had gone out, Alice shut the door firmly. Marilyn stretched out on the bed, with Faye at her head and Shirley at her feet. Faye settled Megan to the middle of the bed.

“I’m going to take your pulse,” Faye said. Everyone was quiet as Faye sat, fingers on Marilyn’s wrist, eye on her watch. “Wow. Your heart’s racing.”

“I know,” Marilyn replied. “Believe me, I can feel it.”

Alice looked alarmed. “Should we call an ambulance?”

“Surely that’s not necessary,” Marilyn pleaded.

“I’ve got something that will help.” Shirley went out of the room.

Marilyn was at the point of tears. “I’ll be all right. In fact, I feel much better now.”

As if in sympathy with Marilyn, Megan’s lower lip quivered, then she began to wail.

Faye brought the baby to her shoulder and patted her back in little circles. “She’s hungry. I’ve got to get her bottle.” She left the bedroom.

Alice sank down next to Marilyn. She placed her own fingers on Marilyn’s wrist. Marilyn’s pulse was hopping around like a field of crickets.

“Was that Gideon Banks sitting on your bed when we came in?” Marilyn asked.

“It was.”

“He’s cute.”

Alice wiggled her eyebrows. “Yeah, he is.”

“Um, why was he in your bedroom? I thought you said he didn’t find you attractive.”

“Long story,” Alice told her. “Wait till the others get back.”

Shirley returned, bearing a mug. “Here,” she told Marilyn. “Drink this.”

Marilyn sat up, took the mug and peered into it. “What is it?”

“Just chamomile tea with a few drops of valerian.”

“Valerian?” Alice asked suspiciously.

Shirley nodded. “An herbal supplement.”

Marilyn grimaced. “Tastes awful.”

“True, but it will settle your heart.” Shirley folded her arms, watching Marilyn like a bossy nurse. “Drink it all.”

Alice cocked her head. “You’re sure it’s safe?”

“Why, no!” Shirley retorted. “I just like giving experimental drugs to my friends!” She could see her reflection in the mirror above Alice’s dresser. Her new haircut made her look so sleek, so intelligent, almost
formidable
. “
Of course
I’m sure. Valerian’s been used for centuries. In medieval times it was called heal-all.”

Alice was still skeptical. “You carry it around with you?”

“I carry quite a lot of stuff around, for my different massage clients.” Removing her shoes, Shirley settled herself cross-legged on the bed, opened her capacious purse, and pulled out a large, clear baggie full of teas, vials, and bottles.

“Good God, you’ve got an entire pharmacy there!” Alice exclaimed.

“It’s all herbal, all natural, very mild,” Shirley assured her.

Faye came back, holding Megan nestled close. Eyes closed, the baby was drinking enthusiastically from the bottle, grunting and sighing with pleasure. Faye went around to the other side of the bed and sank onto the velvet spread, arranging herself against the headboard next to Marilyn, kicking off her shoes and stretching out her legs. Alice grabbed some pillows and tucked them beneath Faye’s arm.

“What did I miss?” Faye asked.

“Shirley gave Marilyn something called valerian,” Alice said.

“I do feel calmer,” Marilyn announced. “Alice, feel my pulse.”

Alice put her fingers back on Marilyn’s arm. Everyone was quiet. “It
is
slower and more steady,” Alice announced.

“And your face isn’t as red,” Faye began, then laughed. “Marilyn! I’ll bet you just had your first hot flash!”

Marilyn put her hands to her face. “My skin
is
cooling down. Goodness, if
that
was a hot flash, it was certainly powerful.”

“Rest a few more minutes,” Shirley suggested. “Let’s see if you feel dizzy or nauseous.”

“Good idea,” Faye seconded.

“Okay,” Marilyn agreed. She took another sip of tea.

Shirley asked, “So, Alice, tell us, who’s the man you keep hidden in your bedroom?”

Alice grinned. “Gideon Banks.”

“And he was shut in your bedroom during the party because—”

“He showed up without calling, that’s all.” Alice thought fast. Should she tell the others that Gideon had prostate cancer? Certainly it was private information, but how could she possibly make a decision, about going through all of whatever it might turn out to be, without discussing it with her friends? “Which reminds me, did you see that guy—I think he said his name’s Justin Quale—come in a few minutes ago?”

Shirley blushed. “I saw him, but didn’t get a chance to talk to him.”

“And?”
Alice prompted.

“He was in my management seminar, and his brother Jake’s a Realtor. They’ve been showing me and Faye a few possible locations for the retreat.”

“What does he do?” Marilyn asked.

“He’s a retired professor of English. He can’t decide whether to start his own business or join his brother’s real estate firm.”

“And he seems to think Shirley’s pretty cute,” Faye added.

“Why, Shirley, how exciting!” Marilyn said.

Shirley beamed. Then her face fell. “Poor Faye. We all have men waiting out there for us, except you.”

“That’s okay. I’ve got Megan.” Faye cuddled the baby close. “Besides, I don’t want a man. Although I
am
considering getting a dog. I’m thinking a yellow Lab. I’ll name her Sunny.”

“Listen, ladies.” Shirley rustled around in her enormous purse. “I have something to show you. I didn’t tell the group out there because I’m not certain about it yet, but I need your advice.” She pulled out a sheaf of papers and photos. “Justin and Jake showed Faye and me this old estate out in Lincoln. It was a private school a hundred years ago. It’s been on the market for a while, because it’s too large for a single house and too small and isolated for most businesses. It might be perfect for my Golden Moments retreat. It’s on thirty acres of land. There’s a stream and a small pond, lots of old gardens. The cool thing is, it’s got lots of large rooms. I was thinking, since you’ve all offered to invest money, that if you did, you could each select one of the rooms to be your personal refuge. In case, for example, Marilyn, let’s say, your Cambridge house sells and you haven’t found a new place to live yet, or if Faye starts teaching art therapy at the retreat and doesn’t want to drive back to her house at night. What do you think?”

She passed the material around. The women bent over the xeroxed plans and photos of the buildings and grounds.