Time Trials (21 page)

Chapter 35

Piper - 2012

“We’ve had a slight change of plans.” Dena sat forward on the bench seat of the limo in order to reach the bar. “We’re picking up Piper at Hobby, but she isn’t coming to the beach with us.”

“What?” Janie accepted the flute of champagne Dena handed her. “Why? What happened?”

“She said she’d explain when she got here. Said she had a couple of hours until her next flight.” Dena continued to hand out champagne.

“Her next flight? Where the hell’s she going?” Janie chose the wafers lined in a silver tray over the bowl of fresh strawberries next to the champagne bucket on the miniature bar.

Dena shrugged. “We’ll see. It’ll be time for lunch when her flight arrives. I’ve made us reservations.”

“Should we wait?” Suzanne asked before taking a sip of her bubbly. “You know, till we see Piper?”

“I sincerely doubt Piper would care.” Allison held up her glass. “To another weekend with the BAGs. And going in style.” She shot Dena a wink.

Allison noticed Regina held up her glass for the toast, but had remained unusually quiet. Back in college she used to call Regina out constantly about that smug I’ve-got-a-secret look, although Allison knew she used it just to mask her insecurities. She had that same gleam in her eye now, but something looked different. The false bravado smile had been replaced with one of almost…humility? Was that the word? The last time they’d actually talked was the day she bolted out of the Cheesecake Factory because Michelle had gone into labor. Self-confidence? Peaceful? Whatever it was, the look was very un-Regina.

By the time the limousine pulled up to the arrival area of Hobby Airport, Piper stood perched on the curb, yellow-tinted Aviator sunglasses in place. She wore skinny jeans, no holes this time, a tank top, corked-wedged heels, and a short black leather jacket…no tattoos visible. Before the driver could round the front of the limo to open the door, Piper had jumped in and slammed it behind her.

“Hey BAGs! How’s it going?” Her smile covered her face. She tried to give everyone a hug until she realized the impossible feat considering the inside space of the limo. “I’ll just wait till we get to the restaurant.”

“Here, take this.” Dena waited until Piper found a seat before handing her a filled champagne flute.

Piper glowed, almost to the point of looking flushed. None of the “h-ey m-an” sluggish dialogue or demeanor she’d carried for all those years.

After being seated at the restaurant, Piper ordered a round of White Russians.

“I’ll tell you my news when we get our drinks.” Piper looked around the table, her eyes bright and appearing larger than usual.

“You’re being awful secretive about this,” Allison said.

“I know, I know.” Piper giggled and ran her fingers through her hair, fluffing out her curls. “I’m nervous. I’ve just never had news like this before.”

Excitement and anticipation easily circled the table. Finally, the drinks arrived. Piper waited until the last White Russian was served. She sat on the edge of her chair.

“I found my daughter…well, actually, she found me. Isn’t that great?”

“You have a daughter?” Janie asked, eyebrows raised.

“Oh, c’mon. I know you all know. I told Allison and Regina at the bonfire for Denise way back when. You all know, right?”

“Well, yeah…we’ve always been interested in your past, so I shared the news of your daughter with everyone.” Allison looked around the table and then back at Piper. “Was that okay?”

“Hell yeah.” Piper clasped her hands together. “Jess found me…my daughter
found
me! Plus, I’m a grandma. She has a little girl. Her name is Rose. Jess wants us to meet. I’m so excited I can’t stand it!”

Every one of the BAGs were on their feet, each giving Piper huge hugs.

Lunch was a boisterous occasion filled with many raised glasses and, as usual, their banter zig-zagging across the table. Never let it be said the BAGs were dull.

From what Piper had learned, Jess wanted to find her biological mother, as did many people who were adopted. After some persuasion on Jess’s part, her adopted mother told her about a woman at a daycare in Tyler, TX who had made all the arrangements. Turned out the woman was Piper’s step-monster, who obviously had mellowed in her old age.

“And after all these years, she and I now kinda have a relationship.” Piper brushed a curly bang away from her face. “My dad died a long time ago, and that evil son of hers has been in and out of prison. Turns out I’m the only family she has. She’s in an assisted living place. And after Jess told me how she found me, I went to see her. Isn’t that weird?”

“Wow.” Frannie dropped her hands to her lap. “Sounds like great material for a story.” She smiled. “Just kidding, I think that’s wonderful.”

“Hey, my whole life has been a disaster. But after all these years, I have a happy ending.” Piper took a sip of her White Russian. “Write away!”

Allison placed her order with the waiter. “So where are you flying off to?”

“Richmond, Virginia.” Piper’s whole body seemed to glow. “Can you believe it? I’ve never even been out of Texas! Jess sent me pictures. They live in this beautiful colonial home.”

“Did she…send you the ticket?” Allison asked.

Piper’s eyes circled the table. She smiled. “Nope. I got a generous offer for the plane ticket.” She used her index finger and tapped it in the air toward Regina. Naturally, all eyes swirled in that direction.

Regina examined an imaginary piece of lint on her blouse. The look of pride had switched to one of total unease. She raised her eyes. “It’s not that big of a deal.” She waved away the gawking looks around the table. “Oh, come on. So, I did something nice. Big deal.”

“It
is
a big deal!”

“Wow. I’m really impressed.”

“Good job, Regina.”

“I didn’t know you and Piper even talked!”

“That’s the cool part,” Piper said. “About a month ago, out of the clear blue, I get this call from Regina. We’ve been talking ever since. Isn’t that wild?”

Sitting back in her chair, listening to all the kudos coming Regina’s way, Allison quickly did the math. It had been about five weeks since she and Regina met at the Cheesecake Factory. And the reason she knew this was because Lily was now five weeks old. She waited until Regina’s eyes found hers, nodded ever so slightly, and smiled. Damn, Regina had finally let her arms down.

The limo pulled into the departure zone at Hobby Airport. Piper waited this time for the driver to open her door. Dena asked the driver to wait as long as airport security would allow before moving on. The BAGs had a communal sense Piper was indeed getting ready to embark on the best part of her life. Allison rolled the window down.

Piper started off with that sassy hip-swaying runway walk only she could pull off at her age. She stopped, swung her head around, and lowered the yellow sunglasses to the tip of her nose. “I’m gonna be a groovy grandma.” She winked and disappeared inside the terminal.

Chapter 36

Jamaica Beach - 2012

The drive from Hobby to Jamaica Beach flew by, especially with a designated driver and a fancy-shmancy limousine. The conversation was constant, but the tone was genuinely congenial. They all seemed to feel they had witnessed one of those rare moments in life. One that reminded them of the sweetness of
Yes, Virginia, There is a Santa Claus
. Piper deserved some happiness in her life. And Regina seemed to have turned a corner of sorts on learning how to be a friend, and letting go of her dysfunctional past. Both events called for a celebration. Lucky for them, the celebration awaited.

There had been some concern about food for the trip, especially from Janie. But then again, food was always her main concern. Every time the subject was broached, Dena’s response remained the same.

“I’ve got it under control.”

“But, what does that mean?” Janie’s worry level obviously heightened after passing one of the major grocery stores on the island. Once they turned off 61
st
Street and headed west toward Jamaica Beach, grocery store options greatly diminished.

“Do you fucking trust me or not?” Dena’s voice, of course, blared like a Bose stereo system throughout the limousine.

The driver slightly turned his head and caught Allison’s eye. She shrugged and did a swirling motion with her finger near the side of her head.
Poor guy
, Allison thought.

“Okay, ya big babies,” Dena huffed. “I was going to wait till we got there, but I see food seems to be a major issue for some of us.” She narrowed one eye at Janie. Dena paused for an over-dramatic moment. “The house comes with its own chef. His name is Joseph. ”

“What?” Janie jumped up and hit her head on the roof. Everyone else moved to the edge of their seats to hear the details.

“Yes, and from what I heard, he’s fabulous. Used to work for Emeril.”

For the second time today the majority of the BAGs had gawking open mouths.

“I filled out the menu, ordered the food, and made sure we had plen-ty to drink; and believe me, we’re going to live like kings…I mean queens.” Dena sat back, obviously pleased with the shock factor she’d created.

The limousine pulled around the circle driveway of the mammoth beach house. As the driver removed luggage from the trunk, the BAGs did a quick once-over of their vacation home for the next few days. A man, a very nice looking man, probably in his forties, came from around the side of the house and introduced himself.

“I’m Joseph, the chef,” he said, “but I also carry luggage.”

“Wow,” Suzanne whispered as they climbed the stoop to the landing on the front of the house.

“The elevator is around the back,” Joseph offered. “It’s just a nice introduction to the house to enter this way.” He swung open the leaded crystal double doors for the BAGs to enter.

Allison looked down the long marbled foyer. She’d seen shorter airport runways. Entering the open-air great room and kitchen, she was not shocked to see the entire back of the house was floor-to-ceiling windows.

Dena, still wearing her Cheshire cat grin, leaned toward Allison. “This is gonna be good.”

“You’re lovin’ this, aren’t you?”

“You bet your ass I am.”

~~~

When Joseph wasn’t preparing a meal, he discreetly disappeared. A catwalk from the main house led to his adjacent living quarters. When the house was not occupied, the BAGs learned Joseph was the overseer of the property, making sure the house remained in pristine condition, as well as the pool and landscaping.

Turned out having a chef wasn’t such a bad idea. The BAGs were served appetizers and drinks on the covered screened porch for happy hour. Then they made their way down to the ground floor—using the elevator, of course—crossed the little picket fenced walkway over the dunes to the beach, and watched the sun set. Most of the BAGs wore some sort of hat and covering over their arms. In their younger days most of them had been sun-worshipers. However, the years of overexposure had required more protection for their skin these days. Luckily, no melanomas, the serious form of skin cancer, but enough of a reason to take a few more precautions when out in the sun. After witnessing a breathtaking sunset, they crossed back over their private walkway. Taking the elevator up to the main floor, the BAGs found the bar had been set up inside, and dinner would be served at their convenience.

“Can you believe it’s been forty years?” Frannie sat on one of the oversized couches after their gourmet meal. “God, we were so young.”

“Remember those popcorn poppers we used to heat tomato soup?” Janie settled herself in next to Frannie. “I think they’re probably illegal by now. Great fire hazard with that hot oil.”

“You were the only one I knew who
ever
ate tomato soup out of a can. That and cream of mushroom.” Dena’s face looked like dinner might back up on her. “You didn’t add oil to the soup, did you?”

Janie, more than okay with her body image at this stage in her life, seemed to find Dena’s statement funny. “Noooo…only for the popcorn. What can I say? I’m a glutton. My love affair with food has lasted longer than my marriage.”

Allison’s lips pressed together in a slight grimace. “Glutton seems a bit harsh. What about…?” She cocked her head and studied Janie. “Miss Piggy. Everyone loves Miss Piggy.”

“Perfect!” Janie ran her hands down her hips like the famous female Muppet. “There’s just so much more of me to love.”

“And you don’t think that’s fucking harsh?” Dena walked into the great room.

“Hell no…I love Miss Piggy.” Janie tilted her head upward. “And better yet, she loves herself.”

“Good point.” Dena plopped down onto one of the two brocade cushions on the floor at the end of the coffee table.

Suzanne eased herself down on the cushion next to Dena. “Hey, I have this recipe for pink margaritas. Do you think Joseph would let us make some?”

“Sure, why not?” Dena, as usual, had brought her box of wine to the coffee table. “He’s just a chef, not the kitchen warden. What’s in it?”

“I have it right here.” Suzanne pulled a folded piece of paper from her pocket. “Pink lemonade, limeade, tequila, and water. You mix it together and then freeze it. It’s slushy.”

Frannie entered the great room after changing into something more casual. “That doesn’t sound at all like you, Suzanne.”

“I got it from my youngest daughter.” Suzanne raised her eyebrows, as if sharing a conspiracy secret. “She’s the only fun person in our family.” She paused and then smiled. “I’ve decided I like her best.”

The BAGs howled. How unlike the old Suzanne. The new emerging version had finally broken out of her shell, like a baby chick yelling “Hello world!”

“Okay.” Dena raised her hand. “I volunteer to drive the butt-mobile to the store in the morning for the lemonade and limeade. But Suzanne, you’re coming with me.”

“That’s the name of the golf-cart?” The old Suzanne would have reacted like she’d just caught a whiff of a dumpster. The new Suzanne replied with excitement in her voice. “How cool!”

Dena scratched the side of her head and smiled that beautiful Dena smile. “No, you goofball. I just thought that’d be an appropriate name for something that could haul all these old butts around.”

~~~

Allison noticed the mellowness of conversation topics over the next couple of days. Not that there still wasn’t the laughter and constant bantering, but the tone was what caught her attention. A softness…more love, appreciation? She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but she came to a conclusion. It was nice.

Frannie shared with the group that she was considering making a switch to children’s books. Now that she was a grandmother, she wanted something age-appropriate for her grandkids that had her name as the author. The BAGs had a blast discussing possible subjects from their own experiences of watching the violence of cartoons, like the roadrunner always dodging Wile E Coyote, whose main purpose in life was to kill the roadrunner for his next meal. Then there was Sylvester the Cat always trying to capture sweet, loveable Tweety Bird for
his
next dining experience. Or their all-time favorite, Bambi, a loveable baby deer who lost his mother due to a shotgun blast by a hunter.

“Speaking of Looney Tunes, what was with Walt Disney? It’s surprising we’re not all serial-killers.” Dena shook her head. “I never let my mother forget how damaged I was after seeing that movie.” She winked. “I blamed all my faux-pas on her, bless her heart.”

Animation, fairy tales, and children’s books had come a long way over the years. Now, most books, programs, and movies contained a learning tool of sorts. Also, creators were clever enough, especially with movies, to produce content also enjoyable for adults. Nothing from the fifties or sixties held a candle to the children’s entertainment of today, such as
Ice Age, Monster’s Inc., Shrek, Cars,
or
Finding Nemo
, to name a few.

Janie mentioned she had run across Buddy’s dog tags not long ago and all the memories that had surfaced.

“My first love,” she said. “And even now, I have no idea whether he’s still alive.” Her eyes dropped to her lap. “Stupid war. If it wasn’t for LBJ….” Janie paused. “It just never should have happened.”

Dena raised the timeout flag. “I know you still hold a lot of sadness over Buddy’s life, but you did everything you could. He’s the one who walked away from you, remember?” Dena reached over and grabbed Janie’s hand. “And I say this with love…rule #1, no politics or religion. Even more so these days, now that we actually have opinions. Got it?”

“If you weren’t so damn pretty, I’d smack that perfect smile off your face.” Janie reached over and gave Dena a hug.

Regina talked about her shock one day when she’d driven by Fountain Oaks, her old apartment complex.

“Something serious has happened,” she said. “I almost drove right past it. The place has been painted, and they’ve replaced that eyesore of a carport. And the landscaping?” Regina’s eyes widened. “It was gorgeous. I had to back up to make sure it was the same place. Then I saw the maintenance man was still there.”

“The one who dressed in army fatigues?” Allison asked.

Regina jerked her head back. “How did you remember that?”

“Suzanne and I were there when you interviewed your landlord, remember?” Allison grinned. “We were your support team.”

“Ah, yes. Now I remember that day. I was scared shitless.” Regina brushed a stray piece of hair from her face. “The maintenance man’s name was Fletcher. I can’t believe he’s still there.”

“Oh, I’ve been meaning to tell you.” Suzanne pushed her horn-rimmed glasses up further on her nose. “I cut it out. I think it’s in my purse.”

“What?” Regina asked.

“There was an article in The Chronicle not long ago. I wouldn’t have thought twice about it, but the caption caught my attention.” She pulled the folded piece of newspaper from her purse. Suzanne was never far away from her purse. Some things did not change. She handed the clipping to Regina.

“Woman Buried At Sea Along With Son’s Dog Tags.”

The gist of the article stated that Ms. Viola Middleton, owner and apartment manager of Fountain Oaks, had died of a heart attack. Her service had taken place on a yacht, where family members released a bio-degradable “pillow” of Ms. Middleton’s ashes, which also included her son’s military dog tags.

“Cremated remains are to be released no closer than three nautical miles from land,” Regina read. “Flowers, wreaths, or any other memorabilia must consist of materials which are readily decomposable in the marine environment.” Her eyebrows came together. “It says apparently it leaked out somehow about the dog tags, which are made from a corrosion-resistant metal.”

“Oops,” Allison said. “Anyone get in trouble?”

Regina continued to skim the article. “Says a verbal reprimand was issued, but due to the circumstances of the metal being military dog tags, the case was dropped.” She laid the article in her lap. “Remember, that’s what the interview was about. That’s the day she was presented the dog tags.” Regina touched her forehead. “She was not a pleasant woman. And she
owned
Fountain Oaks?”

“Well, peace be with her now,” Dena said. “Anyone want a bloody Mary?”

Suzanne wagged her finger at Dena. “It’s not even noon.”

“My point exactly. At noon we can have a beer.”