Sisterchicks Down Under (6 page)

In the steady beam of the headlights, the three of us peered at the victim, who lay flat on his back in the golden flowers. I drew in a horrified breath. His head was still attached. His small eyes and impish grin still seemed to be directed at me.

“The hobbit. I killed the hobbit!”

“Don’t say that too loud,” Tracey said. “It could be considered a national crime. Besides, I think he’s okay. Help me get him back up.”

“Kathleen?” Tony’s voice coming toward us was accompanied by the faint scent of pepperoni.

Tracey whispered. “Did you order a pizza?”

“No, that’s my husband.”

Tracey and Jill snapped into formation beside me with their backs to the fallen hobbit.

“Hallo,” Tracey said with calm cheerfulness.

“Good evening,” Jill added, playing along with the innocent adolescent routine.

“Lovely evening, isn’t it?” Tracey asked.

“Kathleen?” Tony looked at me, as if he still couldn’t compute this extreme makeover from couch potato to highway hellion.

“Tony, these are my new friends, Jill and Tracey.”

“Hi.” He nodded and returned his incredulous stare to me. “Are you … are you okay?”

“Sure, I’m fine! We were just, you know, out driving around in Tracey’s truck, and I parked kind of funny.”

“You were driving?”

I nodded like a bobble-head doll riding down a bumpy road at fifty miles per hour.

Tony’s expression was difficult to decipher, Was he still
stunned or was that boyish amusement on his face? “I, ah, I got a pizza for us,” he said. “There’s plenty. Tracey, Jill, if you want to come in and have some, you’re welcome to join us.”

“Thanks, but I have to get back to the café,” Tracey said.

“I should be going as well,” Jill said without moving.

“Okay. Well, nice meeting you both. Good night,” Tony said.

“Good night,” Jill said.

“Cheers!” Tracey peeped.

Despite our farewells, the three of us cruisin’ chicks hadn’t moved. I was hoping Tony would take the hint and go inside so we could get the hobbit back on his huge, hairy feet again. I was also hoping Mr. Barry wasn’t home, or if he was, that he hadn’t heard us or looked out to see what was going on.

“I guess I’ll, ah … I’ll take the pizza inside and see you in a few minutes, Kathleen.”

“Okay.”

“Well, good evening, ladies.”

“Good evening,” Jill and Tracey repeated in unison. The three of us inched our way to the right with synchronized steps. We had to keep our human shield at the proper angle so Tony wouldn’t see the horizontal Frodo.

As soon as we heard the side door of the garage close, we turned and went to work putting everything back in order, trying hard not to let our giggles escalate to rowdy laughter.

“That was close,” Tracey whispered.

Jill giggled. “I can’t believe us! I haven’t acted like that since …”

“Since far too long,” Tracey concluded for her. “I’d almost forgotten what a great laugh you have, Jill. It’s made my day seeing you like this. Kathy, you’re the best!”

As Tracey was praising me, I was crouched down examining
the grille of her truck to see if I’d done any damage to her beautiful Beatrice. “You might be a little hasty with your kind words, Tracey Look, I dented the grille.”

She leaned close. “No, that was already there.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. You’d have to be a lot more aggressive than you were to damage this baby. Not that I’m inviting you to be more aggressive next time you take her for a spin.”

“Don’t worry. I don’t think I’ll be imposing myself on poor Bea anytime soon.”

“And why not? Now that you’ve gotten used to her, she and I will let you drive her anytime you want.”

“Tracey, you are so gracious.”

“Aren’t I, though?” The soft glow of the headlights brightened her whimsical expression as she gave me a hug. “Next time you come into the café, I’ll have a chocolate fish waiting for you. You too, Jill. And don’t stay away so long this time.”

“I won’t.” Jill reached over to give my arm a squeeze before she climbed back in the car with Tracey. “See you tomorrow.”

I nodded and waved. Tracey started up the engine. Bea seemed to slip into a contented buzz now that Tracey was behind the wheel.

Entering our apartment, I found Tony standing in the center of the room looking at me with his new, mysterious expression on his face.

“So that really was you outside.”

“Yes, it really was me. The new, improved me.”

“You know what I did?” Tony asked. “I actually walked in here and checked to see if you were in the bathtub.”

“Why would I be in the bathtub?”

“Why would you be driving around town in a vintage
automobile with a couple of shrieking women and knocking down ornamental lawn fixtures?”

“Oh. You saw that?”

“I didn’t actually see it, but I couldn’t help but notice how the three of you were acting; so I added up two plus two.”

Math. Math had never done anything good for me. Although, I have to admit that today, for the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel as if my life was half over with only the boring part left. Today I felt as if the second half could hold more freedom to do the sorts of things I’d never had time for before. It was pretty fun not to feel responsible for everyone else in the family and to take a silly risk by getting behind the wheel of Beatrice.

“How bad is he?” Tony asked.

“Frodo? He’s fine.”

“The flowers?”

“Mum’s the word!”

Tony stared at me without blinking.

I couldn’t stop laughing. “Mum’s the word,” I repeated just in case Tony hadn’t heard my joke the first time. He certainly wasn’t as quick at picking up jokes as Tracey had been.

Tony gave me a long, sunken-eyebrow sort of examination. “Kathleen, are you taking some sort of medication that I don’t know about?”

That deduction really cracked me up. “No! As a matter of fact, this is the first day since we’ve been here that I haven’t taken a single pill. Not for a headache or a stomachache or sinus pressure. I’m finally all the way here, Tony. I know my body arrived on the plane two weeks ago, but the rest of me finally caught up.”

At last my husband looked as if he was willing to accept
the new me. We sat down to eat the cooled pizza, and I gave him a thorough recounting of what had happened since he had left me earlier that day.

When I reached the end of my tale, I asked Tony what he thought of inviting Jill and her husband over sometime soon for dinner or at least coffee.

“Sure, it’s a great idea. Did I tell you I cleared it with Mad Dog to take one of the vans tomorrow? I thought you and I could go do something.”

“Tony, I told Jill I’d go shopping with her tomorrow. I’m going to look for a new bedspread.”

“This one really bothers you, doesn’t it?”

I glanced over at my vivid nemesis and was shocked when the first thought that came to mind was,
I guess it’s not so bad.
Apparently everything around me was looking better now that I had my equilibrium back.

“Can you borrow the studio van a different day?” I asked.

“Sure. And if you’re not going to be home tomorrow; I’ll go in to work. I was trying to find ways to make you more comfortable here.”

I thought Tony looked relieved that he didn’t have two full-time jobs: one at the studio and the other at home trying to keep me from flipping out. I didn’t know if I liked the idea of his agreeing to overtime and working on Saturdays, but I did like being his companion and counterpart again instead of his patient and sometimes opponent.

I fell asleep that night in my husband’s arms, dreaming up plans for how Jill, Ray Tony, and I could all fit in our apartment for a cozy dinner party. Or maybe with our limited space and furniture it would just be appetizers.

The next morning I was up before Tony getting ready for
my shopping trip with Jill. I fumbled around looking for clean undies and realized I’d left the laundry on the line all night.

Dashing into the backyard in my pajamas, I was met by a steady morning drizzle. All our clothes were as wet as when I’d hung them out the day before. The drying rack in the bathtub became my only hope. The rack and the hair dryer. I stood shivering, my bare feet on the cold tile floor and my nose dripping while I shot hot air at my unmentionables.

Despite that setback, I was dressed and ready to go by ten o’clock. Although my elastic waistband was still a little damp. I missed my clothes dryer. I missed it even more than I missed my morning Cheerios, and I dearly missed Cheerios. A few days earlier Tony had brought home some Weet-Bix, a popular cereal, according to the guys at work. To me it tasted like Shredded Wheat without any sugar. My hunt was still on for a breakfast food that I would look forward to every morning.

Tony had a bowl of Weet-Bix and left on his bike before Jill arrived. I noticed that the sun had come out. The gentle world outside the door smelled fresh, new, and green. I could smell a dozen different foliage fragrances than the ones distinguishable in southern California. The warm, sweet, tropical scents mixed with the deep smells of an evergreen forest.

I ventured outside, wondering if I should take a chance and hang out the clothes again. I decided it was worth a try. As soon as I had all the damp clothes back on the line, I walked around to the front of the house and nonchalantly examined the mums. I was happy to see that the rainy night had worked wonders in covering the tire marks in the previously flattened grass. Only a few stems near the statue were snapped off. The hobbit looked no worse after his tumble.

I felt a soft poke from something in my jeans pocket.
Putting my hand in, I expected to find a pin of some sort but instead discovered the two white-tipped feathers I’d pulled from my hair yesterday when I had met Jill. With a smile, I returned to the apartment and tucked the feathers into a small plastic bag. My mind kicked into gear, and I mentally started to design a homemade card for Jill that featured two feathers on the front.

Grabbing a notepad, I jotted down possible lines for the inside.

Friends of a feather sip lattes together.

For my fine, feather friend. I appreciate you a latte.

So glad I fluttered your way You made the day fly by.

With a silly streak rising I wrote,

When we’re together, mum’s the word.

The mum joke didn’t sound as funny as it had last night, so I tried another route. But the sound of a car in the gravel drive-way interrupted my creative writing spell. I quickly penned a final madcap line,

Spending time with you could become hobbit-forming.

I
see you decided to park
in a more conventional spot than the one I chose last night.” I greeted Jill with my hand up, shielding my eyes from the sun. It was strange watching Jill exit the “passenger’s” side of her compact car.

“Good morning,” she said in a tone that was much more subdued than I felt. I wanted to ask if she was okay, but she was the first to ask a question.

“Is Tony here?”

“No, he went to work.”

“Would you mind if we went inside and talked before we go shopping?”

“No.” I tried to stay lighthearted. “You can have a look at the bedspread and tell me if you think I’m loco for trying to replace it.”

We went inside, and Jill diplomatically said, “I’ve seen worse.” Looking around she added, “This is a nice apartment.”

“It’s tiny.”

“But it’s clean. Everything looks new. I’m sure you were told how difficult it is to find reasonable housing.”

I nodded and led the way to the other room. She agreed that the bathtub was a bonus. Having Jill’s positive input made me feel better about the apartment. It’s amazing how a few sincere, affirming words from a woman you admire can change your opinion about something.

“Would you like a cup of tea?” I pulled out the box of tea bags from the packed kitchen cupboard.

“Sure. Thanks.”

“It’s not fancy tea.”

“Gumboot is fine.”

“Actually, the box says ‘Bell Tea.’ Is that okay?” I held it up so she could see the limitations of my hospitality and have a chance to decline the offer if she wanted.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to confuse you. Gumboot around here is what they call plain black tea. It’s different than something like Earl Grey or green tea.”

“So is Bell Tea a Gumboot tea?”

“Yes, and I would love a cup. Thanks, Kathy.”

“Do you take cream or sugar?”

“A little of both would be nice.”

“That’s just the way I like my tea, too.”

Yesterday Jill and I had slipped easily into the role of high school best friends. Today, in my ridiculously tiny, Susie Homemaker kitchen with my Easy-Bake Oven and box of Bell Tea, I felt as if we were playing little girls having a tea party I almost wished I had decorated sugar cubes to offer instead of an unimaginative box of granulated white sugar.

“Mind if I use your bathroom?” Jill asked.

“Help yourself.” With a tease I added, “Let me know if you have trouble finding it.”

Jill wasn’t laughing at any of my jokes. I decided to stop trying to be clever and to direct my efforts into putting together a nice tea party. To fancy up the sugar, I poured some into a freshly washed small bowl I’d found in the silverware drawer that I think was supposed to be for teriyaki sauce. Finding a fancy container for the milk was a bigger challenge. I decided the glass milk bottle would have to work. Tony had become enamored with the “old-fashioned” glass bottles as soon as he discovered them at the dairy, and we now had two.