The Hot Flash Club Chills Out (27 page)

“I know! I know!” Polly hugged herself. “It’s like being in love with love. I mean, when I get in that state, I could look at a head of cabbage and think it’s the most beautiful thing on the planet.”

Marilyn cocked her head. “I wonder why humans are wired like that.”

“I think it’s just one of nature’s gifts,” Shirley mused. “I mean, life is so full of daily banalities. Answering the phone. Paying bills. Lugging in groceries. Unclogging the toilet. And that’s when there’s no big trouble to deal with. Maybe our ability to have these perfect moments helps us deal with everything else.”

Marilyn nodded. “That makes sense. Evolution would build in something to flood us with endorphins even if we weren’t of childbearing age, to keep us around to do some of the chores of keeping the new humans alive and well.”

Alice snorted. “Thank you so much, Dr. Strangelove, for that totally scientific observation.”

“Well, let’s be brutal,” Marilyn argued. “How many times does the average person get to fall in love in her lifetime?”

“Three?” Polly guessed. “Four?”

“Um—thirty-two?” Shirley offered, only half-joking.

Alice chortled. “Shirley throws the statistics off.”

“For some people it’s only once. But let’s be generous,” Marilyn continued. “For the sake of argument, let’s say four times. And that falling-in-love rush can’t last more than—let’s be generous again and say four months. So sixteen months out of a lifetime of eighty years, which is 960 months, means that 944 months of your lifetime you’re not going to feel that romantic, life-enriching surge.”

“God, that’s
depressing
!” Shirley wailed.

“Cheer up,” Alice told her. “Here comes Romeo with our meals.”

41

T
he group watched, mesmerized, as the handsome waiter approached, thigh muscles swelling against his crisp black trousers. With smooth, sinuous movements, he set a plate before each woman, reciting the name of each dish with his deliciously embellished accent, smiling into each woman’s eyes.

“Would anyone like fresh ground pepper?” With both hands, he held out the world’s longest, most phallic-looking pepper mill.

Shirley crammed her napkin in her mouth. Faye turned crimson. Polly’s jaw dropped. Marilyn smiled appreciatively. Alice said, “Thanks, honey, no. We’re fine.”

When he was out of earshot, they all burst out laughing.

“I’m giving that young man a big tip,” Faye said.

“He’d like to give you a big tip,” Alice quipped, sending them into more gales of laughter.

“I predict he’ll go far,” Shirley said. “I admire anyone trying to make a home in a foreign country.”

Faye dabbed her white linen napkin against her throat. Her face still glowed from her most recent hot flash. “Sometimes I feel like
I’m
entering a foreign country. And
not
by choice.”

“I know just what you mean,” Shirley agreed. “We are leaving the comfortable world of youthful sexuality for a whole new world.”

“A new continent of incontinence,” Alice quipped.

Polly leaned forward. “We have to abide by new laws. Like we don’t dare sneeze or laugh unless there’s a bathroom nearby.”

“Not to mention living by new diet rules,” Faye added. “Plus, we have to learn a new language. Words we never needed to know before, like estrogen.”

“And for the men,” Alice cut in, “prostate.”

Faye nodded. “We have new officials. Physicians. Physical therapists. Dieticians.”

“What I hate,” Polly said, “is the embarrassment of it. I mean, people write books and appear on TV shows talking about their alcohol or drug addictions, about going cold turkey, and they’re respected for it. But talking about menopause is humiliating, as if we’re doing something shameful on purpose, like, oh, I don’t know, exposing our bums.”

Alice laughed. “I know! There are days when my involuntary withdrawal from estrogen makes me feel like I’m going cold turkey.”

Faye said, “It’s sort of like the opposite of being a teenager. Remember when we were in our early teens? Boys’ voices dropped and their skin broke out. We started our periods and developed breasts. It was all normal, but hideously embarrassing to talk about.”

Alice nodded. “Except then we could anticipate learning about sex. Now we’re leaving sex behind us and only have old age and death to look forward to.”

“Oh, stop!” Shirley slapped Alice lightly on her hand. “We’re not decrepit yet! I, for one, don’t intend to give up sex for a good long time!”

Alice gave Shirley a knowing stare. “I knew you had something going on down on the island.”

Flustered, Shirley hurried to point Alice’s eagle eye elsewhere. “And look at Marilyn! She’s having fabulous sex with Ian!”

“It’s true,” Marilyn agreed. “Or I would be if we were ever alone.”

“And Polly,” Shirley babbled, “you’re having fun sex with Hugh, right?”

Polly laid her fork down and patted her lips with her napkin. She held her head high. “I’ve broken off with Hugh.”

The four other women looked stunned.

“When did this happen?” Alice asked.

“He came to my house Sunday evening. I pretty much gave him an ultimatum. I told him I had to come first, I wanted to be married, I wanted to go to his grandchildren’s recitals, I didn’t want to be on the side. He told me he can’t commit to anything more than what we’ve got.”

“Oh, Polly.” Marilyn reached over and hugged her friend. “I’m so sorry.”

“This is terrible!” Shirley was dismayed. “Why didn’t you call me? Or any one of us?”

Polly stared down at her lap. “I guess I just wanted to get through it by myself. I don’t want to be dependent on anyone.”

“Nonsense!” Alice was angry. “We all are dependent on one another, for heaven’s sake. You shouldn’t have had to deal with this by yourself. That stupid man. That stupid, stupid man!”

Faye cleared her throat. “I can kind of understand Hugh.” She gestured, “Wait!” with her hand aimed at Alice. “I’m pretty much breaking up with Aubrey, for similar reasons. I mean, for reasons that probably seem selfish to everyone else. I don’t want to be married to him. I just can’t put Aubrey
first
in my life.”

“Have you spoken to him about this?” Alice asked.

“We’ve talked on the phone. We haven’t finalized things officially, but he knows I want to spend more time on the island. As I said, I’m looking for a place to rent for the fall and winter.” Her face lit up as she talked. “The art on Nantucket is just spectacular. There’s a marvelous group of artists working there, and several first-rate galleries, and I can’t tell you how excited I am about painting landscapes there!”

Alice shook her head. “I hope you’re not sorry about giving up Aubrey.” She turned to Polly. “I just hope you’ve done the right thing breaking off with Hugh.”

“From my perspective,” Marilyn put in, “I think you might be a little impatient. I mean, no one our age gets to have someone without any previous connections. I mean, Ian has to deal with Ruth living with us, and I’ve got to deal with his son, his son’s dog, and now Ian’s best friend’s widow. It’s difficult, but—”

“But Ian wants to
marry
you!” Polly reminded her. “Hugh
doesn’t
want to marry me. Ian has you involved with his son’s life. Hugh doesn’t want me doing anything with his kids or grandkids.”

Alice made a discreet, judgmental little snort. “You know about the three rings of marriage, right?”

“What are they?” Polly asked.

“Engagement ring, wedding ring, suffering.”

“Oooh, Alice,” Shirley protested. “That’s so cynical!”

Alice shrugged. “I guess I’m feeling cynical these days. You all know how I worried when Alan and Jennifer got married. Then I fell in love with little Aly. For a while, the world was absolutely rosy. But now Alan and Jennifer are arguing constantly. They’re worried about money, they’re exhausted from taking care of the baby, and to be completely honest, I’m exhausted, too!”

Marilyn put her hand on Alice’s arm. “I know exactly how you feel, believe me.”

For a few moments, the table was quiet.

Then Shirley spoke up. “You know how when we all first met, we decided we could solve each other’s problems? And we did?” When the others nodded, she continued. “Looking back on it all, don’t you think we were kind of brave and crazy? I mean, Marilyn, you pretended to be a secretary in a huge corporation, and Faye, you acted like a housekeeper, and I spied on Jennifer, and Alice rearranged my entire financial life. Well, do you ever think we’re all a little—
bossy
?”

Everyone laughed.

“Hell, yes, we’re bossy!” Alice was emphatic. “And I’d do it again. Our motto is, after all,
Interfere
! I’d do something now if I could help you, Marilyn, but I’ve got my hands full with the baby.”

“And maybe you shouldn’t,” Faye suggested softly. “Maybe what Shirley’s suggesting is that you should step back and let Alan and Jennifer solve their own problems.”

Annoyed, Alice demanded, “Yes, well, what would happen to them if I did?”

“I don’t know,” Faye replied logically. “No one knows. But remember when you were younger, Alice? As I recall, you were a single mother who managed to take college courses and work for TransContinent. I think, sometimes, being, well,
stretched
by life can be good for us. I know I had more energy and enthusiasm for painting after my daughter was born. Maybe Jennifer and Alan need to dig deep within themselves to discover just how much stamina they have.”

Shirley was nodding. “I’m totally with you, Faye.”

Polly added, “Me, too.”

Faye held out both hands, palms down, to silence the table. She cleared her throat. “We all have a lot to decide, personally and as directors of The Haven. When we first met, we all brainstormed, and we came up with some pretty great ideas—”

“And we made some pretty big mistakes!” Alice reminded her.

“Yes, but in the end, everything turned out really, really well. This summer we’ve spent very little time together as a group. I think The Hot Flash Club needs to spend one entire week together on Nantucket. To chill out, let the dust settle, brainstorm, and gain a new perspective on our futures.”

The others were quiet, thinking.

Alice took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. “Okay, Faye. I think you’re right. I agree.”

“Me, too,” Polly added.

Marilyn looked downhearted. “You all don’t have a house full of people dependent on you.”

“But you don’t have courses to teach in August, do you?” Faye pressed.

“And neither does Ian, right?” Polly added. “Let Ian take care of everyone for a week.”

Marilyn squelched her face up tight. “I don’t know…”

Shirley reached over and took both of Marilyn’s hands in hers. “What is the very worst thing that could happen if you spent a week away from your home?”

“Well, for one, my mother could die.”

Alice shook her head. “Ruth’s as healthy as a horse. She’s got her own friends, she’s got a way to get to that senior citizen’s club of hers, and if you leave, there will still be two—or three, if you count Angus as a grown-up—adults to listen to the intercom and check on her.”

Marilyn sighed. “I suppose.” But she didn’t look happy.

“What else worries you?” Faye prodded.

“Well…” Marilyn flushed deeply. “What if,” she said, in a very low voice, “Ian falls in love with Fiona? What if he sleeps with her while I’m gone? She’s so beautiful.”

“Honey,”
Alice was very forceful now. “If Ian sleeps with Fiona while you’re on Nantucket, he would sleep with her while you were at the grocery store. If he doesn’t love you, if the man can’t be faithful to you, better learn about it now, before you make the mistake of marrying him.”

“Oh, dear.” Tears welled in Marilyn’s eyes.

“That’s the worst case scenario!” Shirley hastened to remind Marilyn, at the same time shooting an exasperated glance at Alice. “You don’t know that’s what’s going to happen!”

“She’s right,” Polly said. “When Tucker died, the last thing I felt like was having sex with anyone.”

Faye nodded her head. “If Fiona loved her husband, and from all you’ve said, it sounds like she did, she won’t want to have sex with Ian. From what you’ve said, Fiona can’t do more than watch television.”

“Besides,” Shirley added, “remember the first rule of the Hot Flash Club.
Don’t let fear rule your life!
”

Marilyn wiped the tears from her cheeks with her napkin. “Okay. Okay, I know you’re all right. Okay,
yes,
I’ll come spend a week with you all on Nantucket!”

“Excellent!” Faye and Polly gave each other high fives.

“Shirley.” Alice aimed a level stare at her friend. “You can tell the Rainbow wheeler-dealers we can’t give them a decision until the middle of the month. If they don’t like it, tough.”

“Fine.” Shirley was trying her best not to look nervous or guilty. She couldn’t wait to be on the island again, but having all her friends there was certainly going to complicate matters.

Faye had pulled a small leather daybook out of her purse. “Let’s give ourselves next week, the last week in July, to organize ourselves. We’ll all go down to Nantucket next Sunday and spend the first week in August together!”

“Sounds like a plan!” Polly grinned.

Marilyn was smiling. “I think we ought to celebrate this decision with a nice round of chocolate desserts.”

“Absolutely!” Alice agreed. “Let’s get Romeo back here, one more time!”

42

S
unlight woke Shirley. She stretched with luxurious indolence, each muscle of her body loose and warm, her heart thudding deep and slow within her like the wing beat of a powerful bird just beginning its journey home.

Harry wasn’t in bed with her. She stretched out her hand and felt the pillow next to her. It was still warm. She heard the toilet flush. She checked the clock. Not quite five in the morning! Well, they’d gone to bed early last night. Although, she remembered with a smug smile, they hadn’t gone to sleep for quite a while.

Friday night, when she returned home from dinner with her friends, she’d felt mellow and optimistic, as she always did after a good Hot Flash session. But when she went to bed, her bed had seemed vast and cold, and when Harry phoned early Saturday morning to ask her when she was coming back to the island, it had seemed absolutely right to say
immediately.
She’d packed in an instant, driven into Logan, and spent an unconscionable amount of money on a flight from Boston to Nantucket. Harry met her at the airport, and they’d spent a fabulous lazy island day together, and an even more delicious night.

Shirley couldn’t believe how easy they were with each other. She felt like salt who’d finally found pepper. She didn’t feel she had to flirt, flatter, babble, or squeal—well, at least not any more than she did normally. The thing was, she didn’t try to pretend to be younger than her age. Perhaps this was because Harry was the first man her own age she’d dated in a while. Well, except for Stan. Turning on her side, Shirley burrowed her head into the pillow and revised her thought. Harry was the first older man she’d been
attracted to
in more years than she could count. He made no attempt to pretend he was younger, either. He was honest about his various aches and pains and the frustrating diminishment of his strength. But, Shirley thought, with a little frisson of fear, Harry was in amazingly good shape for a man his age. He’d have no trouble attracting much younger women.

Now he came into the bedroom. “Good morning.” He was completely naked, as was Shirley. Approaching the bed, he bent to kiss her.

“Mmm.” The kiss was brief, but he hugged her to him for a long time. His bristling morning beard rasped against her cheek.

“Come on,” he said, taking her by the wrist. “We’re going for a swim.”

Shirley balked. “I don’t have a bathing suit.”

“You don’t need one.” Harry grinned and tugged her out from under the covers. “We’re going au naturel. No one will see you, except maybe a few ducks.”

“Let me just use the john,” she told him.

In the privacy of the bathroom, she peed, then took a moment to glance at her reflection. Big mistake. Her skin was pale and blotchy, and the clear morning light illuminated every long wrinkle.

Harry was out on the deck, still naked, stretching in the warm glow of the sun. The thermometer mounted on the deck showed the temperature nearing a tropical seventy-eight. The calm waters of the harbor were a deep, vibrant blue. In the distance, a gull called.

“Harry.” Shirley hugged herself. “I can’t swim.”

Harry ruffled her hair as if she were a kid. “Then it’s time you learned.”

Hand in hand, they walked along the sandy path through the green grass and tangled brush down to his dock and the water’s edge. Still holding her hand, Harry led her into the shallows. A few shells lay in the sand, glimmering through the transparent water. Shirley got her feet wet, then her ankles, then her knees. The water was warm. When she was in up to her thighs, Harry said, “Now lie down, and I’ll hold you.”

She cocked an eyebrow at him and joked in her best Mae West voice, “Now there’s an offer I can’t refuse.” She was trying to be brave, but the beat of her heart had tripled with her trepidation.

“Face down,” Harry instructed. “Arms up.”

She hesitated, then just did it. When her torso hit the water, she gasped. She turned her head sideways to keep her mouth free for air. Her system went on red alert: she was on overload! Harry’s arms, solid and warm around her waist, provided enough sensation all by themselves to send her over the edge, and of course the little demonic neurotic Shirley who lived in her head screamed in her ear, “What are you
doing
? He can see your naked old butt! He can see your naked, wrinkly thighs!”

“Get your face wet,” Harry instructed. “Get your entire head wet. I’ll hold you.”

Shutting her eyes tightly, she obeyed.

“Now turn on your back.” Harry’s hands helped. “First thing you need to learn is to float. Kick your feet a little. Relax. Come on, relax. The water will hold you. Good.”

He removed his hands and backed away. Shirley lay on her back, blinking beneath the sun. It was an odd experience, like lying on an air mattress. If she stopped moving her feet, her legs began to drift downward.

“Now stretch your arms up and back, one at a time, like this.” Standing next to her, Harry demonstrated.

Shirley did as he said, and to her amazement, slowly wafted a few feet away from him.

“Now roll over, and keep moving your arms up and back, one at a time. And kick your feet.”

Shirley panicked. “Um…”

“Pretend you’re a seal.”

No one had ever said that to her before! Shirley thought of seals with their silly amiable faces and their blubbery bodies. She tried to roll over in one sleek move, but her arms and legs got out of sync and for a few moments she found herself snorting water, spitting it out, and flailing her limbs desperately. When she shook her hair out of her face, she found that she was several feet away from Harry, who stood near the shore, his hands on his hips, smiling at her.

“Well done. Now swim back to me.”

She thrashed her arms and legs, exploding the water around her, until to her amazement, she bumped into Harry. “Is that swimming?” she asked.

“That’s swimming.”

Putting his hands beneath her arms, he helped her stand. Her toes curled gratefully into the sand. She was huffing away like a marathon runner, and her eyes stung from the salt. Water drizzled down her face from her soggy hair and tickled her shoulders and back. Naked, helpless, and dripping, she felt like the world’s most ancient infant. Her nipples had puckered into raisins, but now she realized that while the air dried her shoulders like a soft terry cloth towel, her legs and hips, still immersed in the water, seemed stroked by shimmering silk.

“Now swim next to me.” Deftly, Harry glided away.

“I—”

Harry moved through the water as if he were part of it. Beside him, Shirley felt like a battery-operated windmill. She slapped the water and gasped and sputtered and kicked and gulped and lurched and tilted. Harry slid through the cool element like an otter. Shirley heaved and wobbled and snorted, as awkward and out of place as a camel.

Accidentally, she flipped over on her back. She decided to stay there a while to catch her breath. She kicked her feet, but let her arms drift. She closed her eyes. In a matter of moments, the sun dried the beads of water from her face. Little by little she caught her breath, and her heartbeat slowed. She stopped struggling. The warm water embraced her. It supported her. She felt safe.

“Hungry?”

Opening her eyes, she found herself staring upside down at Harry. Clumsily, she righted herself, glad to find purchase on the sandy bottom.

“Starving,” she said truthfully.

Harry smiled. “There’s nothing much better in the world than a big breakfast after a wake-up dip.” Wrapping his arms around her, he said, “Well, perhaps there’s one thing better.” He bent and kissed her, his mouth cool and fresh.

Shirley hugged him against her, kissing him back. She felt his penis stir against her belly.
I look like this,
she thought,
with my hair tangled and clumped and every mole and crease and physical flaw glaringly exposed by the sun, and this man is kissing me, this man is sexually attracted to me. Is this all for real?