Time Trials (14 page)

Chapter 23

Saturday Night, The Beach - 1992

An hour later, with dishes completed, clothes changed, flip flops on, and two vehicles packed, they made the short mile drive to their destination. Unlike Galveston, cars were actually allowed on the beach. If the sand was dry, four-wheel drive vehicles were a way of assuring you’d not only get down to the beach, but would be able to make your way back to the paved roads without a tow. Janie drove the Jeep that stayed in the garage at the bay house, and Dena took her four-wheel drive SUV.

Quite a few beach lovers, obviously there all day, still had canopies in place and small grills fired up for dinner. Sunset, a mere hour away, was a time of day relished by many beachgoers. Some had fishing lines out, poles anchored by PVC pipes driven into the sand. Many kite boarders could be spotted flying across the water.

The Corpus Christi/North Padre Island area had long been a prime destination spot for both wind surfers and kite boarders due to the steady 10–15 mph winds. Wind surfers have a sail actually attached to the board, while a kite boarder is pulled across the water by an arc-shaped kite high above with chords anchored to the board.

Before lighting the fire, the women spread out a couple of blankets and low to the ground beach chairs, and situated two ice chests in the sand.

“I wanna take a walk down the beach.” Allison slipped out of her flip flops and pulled an Astros baseball cap on her head, threading her blonde mane through the hole in the back. “Anyone wanna come?”

Regina and Piper spoke at the same time. “I’ll go.”

There wasn’t one of the seven, with the exception of Piper, that saw that group as just weird. Piper followed Allison’s lead and left her flip flops by her chair and milk jug. Obvious to the casual observer, Regina showed no signs of walking down the beach without
something
protecting her feet.

“Here, take these.” Janie fished through a mesh beach tote and handed over two bags, one zip-lock and the other grocery. “If you find any sea glass put it in the zipped bag. The other is for trash.” She scrunched up her nose and smiled, showing her freckles and dimples. “I’m a sucker for sea glass. And, well…trash on the beach is just—”

“Unacceptable.” Allison grabbed the bags. “We used to come here when I was little. I learned that lesson a long time ago. My dad used to say if everyone picked up their trash plus one more, we’d be living in a much cleaner place.”

“I like that.” Dena had settled herself in a beach chair with a glass of wine, her boxed supply nearby. “Go forth ladies. Find treasures.”

~~~

“I used to take long walks along the beach.” Allison picked up a shell for inspection. “Always looked for sand dollars or sea beans.” She tossed the shell into the water. “Hard to find sand dollars intact…they’re pretty fragile. The tide beats them up. And sea beans are just dang rare.”

“Man, what’s a sea bean?” Piper lit a cigarette. “I don’t know much about the beach. Not one close to Fort Worth.”

“Or Tyler.” Regina’s flip flops created suction on the wet sand. She moved back a few steps to the drier, yet grittier, beach surface. “In fact, living in Houston, I’ve only been to Galveston a couple of times. Doesn’t this sand bother you? I mean, it gets into everything.” She flung out her hands, as if already disgusted with the feel between her fingers. “I even feel it in my mouth.”

Allison pulled in a deep breath. “There’s a soul connection between people and the water.” She turned an amused face toward Regina and raised her eyebrows. “Some just don’t feel it, though.”

“I guess that would be me.” Regina showed no intention of picking anything out of the sand…treasure or trash.

“So, what’s a sea bean?” Piper flipped the remains of her cigarette into the water.

“Ah…no.” Allison pointed to where the cigarette had landed.

“Hey, isn’t that biodegradable or some shit like that?” Piper rolled up the hem of her ripped jeans and waded out.

“Not the filter.” Allison held open the trash bag. “Even if it was, that’s not the point. It’s called honoring the land.”

“Honoring the land.” Piper’s brows came together as if giving the phrase some serious thought, and then she nodded. “Yeah…I get it. So, what’s a sea bean?”

Regina leaned toward Allison and whispered, “She’s staying on topic.”

“It’s just a hollow bean, looks like a fat lima, but brown. Sometimes it’s heart-shaped. Supposed to be good luck.” Allison smiled. “I always made a wish when I found one.”

“Cool.” Piper still wore her yellow Aviators though the sun had dipped behind some clouds near the horizon, shooting shards of purple and pink across the sky.

Picking up a piece of green glass, Allison washed it off before depositing the small treasure in the zip lock. “Piper, how are you doing these days? Besides meeting those couple of times in Madisonville, we haven’t talked much. Are you still working at that bookstore?”

“Is that where you met? Madisonville?” Regina slipped hands in her pockets to prevent any further grittiness. “To get the pot?”

“Yeah and yeah.” Although the same age as the rest of the BAGs, Piper still walked with that same sexy, butt-swaying motion she’d had in college. The wild blonde hair and yellow Aviators only added to the looks coming her way.

“It’s about halfway for both of us.” Allison cleaned off another small piece of glass.

“Weren’t you concerned about—?”

“Getting caught? Transporting an illegal substance?” Allison cocked her head toward Regina, then gave it a shake. “Never thought about it...
of course
, we thought about it!”

A flush crept across Regina’s face despite the warm breeze. “That was a stupid question. What you two did was very brave. I only hope someone would do the same for me.”

“We
are
the Bad-Ass-Girls, may I remind you.” Allison picked up a plastic soda bottle and a smashed beer can. “God, I hate litter.”

“Yeah, but I haven’t been….” Regina’s words whisked away with the early evening breeze.

“Been what?” Allison asked.

The woman who never lacked for conversation, especially about herself, seemed to be experiencing dead air time. “Nice,” was the only word that escaped her lips. She removed a hand from her pocket and lightly rubbed a finger across her upper lip. Her head down, she continued walking. When she raised her eyes and realized she was alone, she whipped around.

Allison’s hands framed her face like she held a camera. Piper’s arms were folded across her inflated chest, accentuating her overly inflated lips and silly girlish grin.

“What?” The whole scenario took a hike right over Regina’s head.

“It’s a Kodak moment. Hold still.” Allison clicked her imaginary camera.

“Are you making fun of me?” Regina’s tone hovered between a flair for the dramatic and hurt feelings.

Piper moved up to Regina, linked arms, and steered her back toward Allison. “No man, that’s just cool. That’s just really cool.”

“That I’m not nice?” Regina attempted to pull away, but Piper yanked her forward.

“No dude, because you admitted it!” Piper pulled Regina against her a bit tighter.

Allison tapped a closed fist against her heart and raised her eyes straight up. “Thank goodness! We’re having a moment. About damn time, if you ask me.”

“We are?” Regina looked as confused as if she’d just landed in a foreign country and realized she had the wrong translation handbook.

“We….” Allison used a finger to draw a circle. “All of us…are the Bad-Ass-Girls. We….” Another circle for emphasis. “Stick together. That’s what we do. Remember our song?”

“Not that Whore Corp thing, is it?” Regina asked. Piper looked like she also waited for an answer.

Allison reached over and thumped Regina on the side of the head. “No, you goofball. The other one…‘You’ve Got A Friend
.’
”

“Hey, watch the hair.” Regina ran a hand down over the thumped area, smoothing anything that might be out of place. The other two couldn’t contain their laughter.

They walked a bit further down the beach, the first stars barely visible. The volume of the churning waves and the seagulls cawing overhead cranked up a notch, silencing the three of them after Regina’s “moment.” The somewhat awkward quiet eased into something more peaceful. They took in their surroundings and the slowing down of the day.

Piper lit another cigarette. “I had a daughter.” She kept her pace down the beach. This time Allison and Regina slammed to a halt. Piper stopped and turned.

Allison found her voice first. “You…had…a daughter?”

“Yeah.” Piper took a drag from her cigarette. “Well, have…I mean, she’s still alive. Gave her up for adoption though.”

“When?” Either Regina finally found her voice, or had just thought of something to say.

“Uh…around ‘79, I think.”

Around ’79, she thinks
. Allison struggled to find the right words. “Do you ever, um...was it an open adoption?”

Dipping the tip of her cigarette in the water, she tossed the butt into Allison’s trash bag. “Nah, my stepmother took care of it. She told me someone through the church would handle the situation.” Piper air-quoted the word situation.

Something jarred Allison’s memory about Piper’s stepmother, something Janie had told her a long time ago.

“Did you get to name her?” Regina asked.

Allison nudged Regina in the ribs, shooting her a watch-what-you-say look.

Piper pushed the Aviators to the top of her head and shoved her hands in her pockets. “Jess. I named her Jess.”

“For Jessica, right?” Regina narrowed her eyes.

“No…just Jess.” They walked a while in silence. “Actually, that’s a lie.”

“What, her name?” Regina face registered a blank stare. People with less cosmetic freezing of their facial expressions would most likely have looked confused.

Piper’s voice thickened. “About seeing her.”

“I’m confused. You—”

Allison patted Regina’s arm, signaling silence.

“Yep, used to watch her on the playground at this daycare. Even got a job there, just to be close to her.” Piper’s eyes softened. “She looked like a little me…only happier.” She fluffed the back of her blonde waves with her hand. “But I screwed that up too.”

“What happened?” Allison asked.

“Oh, one day I got the bright idea I’d take her. You know, raise her myself.” The pain in Piper’s laugh was apparent. “
Big
mistake. Took her to my apartment. Barely made it through the door before I realized I couldn’t raise her, even if she
was
mine. I had nothing.”

“What did you do?” Regina asked, true compassion registered on her face.

“I took her back to the daycare.” Piper didn’t attempt to wipe away the tear sliding down her cheek. “Of course, they fired me. Said they wouldn’t file charges if I never showed up there again.” She stared straight ahead. “And if I did, they’d do something even worse...they’d tell my stepmother.” She turned to face the two women. “Did I mention she owned the daycare?”

The three women stopped and faced the ocean. The water that had no beginning or end.

“C’mon,” Allison motioned. “We’d better head back.” The three fell into step.

The bonfire had been lit, the leaping flames steering the silent three back to the group. 

Chapter 24

The Bonfire and End of the Weekend - 1992

“Did you find some glass?” Janie held a blackened marshmallow on a stick in one hand, a Solo cup filled with tequila mixture in the other.

“Not much. More trash than anything.” Allison plopped down on one of the blankets. “Man, I’d forgotten how nice it is down here.” She pulled the container of margaritas from the ice chest and filled a cup. Piper grabbed a beach chair and her gallon milk jug.

“That’s right.” Janie popped the black gooey mush in her mouth. “Your mom’s not in Corpus anymore, is she?”

“No.” Allison rubbed the back of her neck. “After my dad died she moved to Houston.”

“How’s she doing?” Janie’s arm shoved into the bag of marshmallows once again.

Wedging her Solo cup in the sand, Allison locked her arms behind her and leaned back. She viewed the night sky and spotted the beginnings of a new moon. “You know…we haven’t covered everyone’s current status yet, but…what if…just for tonight, we keep it light. We’ve still got tomorrow.”

“I hear ya on that,” Janie seconded, obviously still not anxious to jump into her marriage debacle.

“Yeah, this night is about Denise and our days at Sam.” Frannie sat up in her chair to make a point. “Right?”

“Absolutely.” Dena raised her cup of wine. “To Denise and the Bad-Ass-Girls.”

The group agreed. Suzanne even ventured back into the margaritas. Everyone settled in to enjoy the bonfire, the night at the beach with their rhinestone flip flops, adult beverages, their memories, and how very traumatic they’d seen life back in those days.

“Remember when Denise got us all hooked on soap operas?
Days of Our Lives
and….” Frannie held up her index finger.

“All My Children!”
Suzanne inched up to the front of her beach chair.

“You can turn it on today and still know what’s going on.” Allison pulled out precut squares of cheddar cheese and opened a bag of pretzels. “Only thing that changes is Erica’s husbands. A Pine Valley divorce attorney would have it made in that place.”

“Oh, I always wanted to be Erica Kane.” Regina’s eye took on a glassy fairytale look.

“Why does that not surprise me?” Dena balanced the box of wine on her lap for a refill. “Actually, you could be her, except you’d have to step up the marriage to divorce ratio thing.”

Regina ignored Dena and shook her head. “All those years and never an Emmy. Such a shame.”

“I remember skipping lunch sometimes just so we could run to the TV room on the main floor.” Suzanne’s eyes sparkled in the light from the fire.

“You missed cafeteria food for a soap opera?” Dena lifted a single eyebrow. “What a fucking shame.”

“Yeah, Dena would pay our way if we’d go eat with her,” Janie said. “Frannie, remember that?”

“Of course.” Frannie ran fingers through her hair and shot Dena a wink. “Not only was she the one with a checking account, she was v-e-r-y generous. We often enjoyed the fine dining in Huntsville back then.”

“Hey, anyone remember the Streak of Lightning?” Piper popped the cap on the gallon milk jug.

In 1974, a gathering of students, nicknamed the bare-kats, had assembled and raced naked across campus. The Houstonian, Sam Houston’s school paper, titled the article “A Streak of Lightning.” Thousands were involved, although many were onlookers. Seven arrests were made. The Houstonian reported the following:

“The bare facts are that a few streakers will be arrested while the majority goes scot-free.”

The University police chief had said, “It’s like fishing—we can just catch so many.”

Dena passed Piper a Solo cup so she wouldn’t drink from the gallon jug. “Unless you’d prefer a straw?” She gave Piper a wink. “Yeah, I remember hearing about the streakers. I was already over at A&M. Hey, were you part of that?”

Piper accepted the Solo cup. “Nah. I was in the crowd though.” She leaned back in her beach chair and smiled. “I look better with my clothes on.”

“Don’t we all.” Janie wadded up the empty marshmallow bag and dropped it in her trash sack.

As the night wore on topics ranged from favorite instructors and the best movie ever contest, which led to favorite actor, and then guys they’d dated. Regina seemed the least involved in the discussions.

“Hey there.” Dena wagged a fingernail at Regina. “What’s with the mute button?”

Reliving her recent reaffirmation of actually being included as a true Bad-Ass-Girl, she came to terms with a concept, the one her mother had preached about for so long.

“You know, I worked so hard to get ahead…the best majorette, best-dressed, get noticed more than anyone else….” She stared down at her pedicured feet and didn’t even bother brushing off the sand. “Not only did I miss out on most of this stuff, but…well, I was rude a lot of the time. I hate that.”

“I’m surprised.” Janie spurted out, and then refilled her cup.

“You mean, I wasn’t rude?” Regina narrowed her eyes as much as the Botox would allow.

The remaining sets of eyes volleyed between the two women.

“Oh no, you were rude. I’m just surprised you hated it. I figured you enjoyed it at least a little, because you did it so much.” Janie slapped a hand over her mouth.

“Okay, Tourette’s woman, where’s the duct tape?” Dena rolled her eyes. “I thought you’d outgrown that.”

“Oh God, I said that out loud, didn’t I?” Janie wedged her cup in the sand, heaved herself out of the low-lying chair, and made her way over to Regina. Dropping down on her knees, she pulled Regina in for a tight Janie-hug. “I’m
really
sorry,” she whispered. “I’ve had too much to drink. And it meant so much this morning when you and I were able to share about our…
hiccup
…well, you know…friends.”

Regina brought her arms up around Janie’s large frame and patted her back. “That’s okay. It was true. I really was a bitch.”

“Well, yeah…or at least I thought so back then.” Janie squeezed a bit harder. “Not now, though. Besides, we’re not eighteen anymore.” Janie released Regina, came to her feet, brushing sand from her shins, and announced to the BAGs, “Okay, I’m cut off.”

She had just about made it back to her seat when Frannie broke out with,

“Making your way in the world today takes everything you’ve got.

Taking a break from all your worries, sure would help a lot.

Wouldn’t you like to get away?”

As was Frannie’s style, she held up a finger again, waiting for the others. Hardly a beat passed before everyone joined in singing…loudly.

“Sometimes you want to go

Where everybody knows your name,

And they’re always glad you came.

You wanna be where you can see,

Troubles are all the same

You wanna be where everybody knows your name.”

God, how they’d loved
Cheers
. The women howled, whether from nostalgia or the adult beverages. A little of both would probably be more accurate. One song led to another. By the end of the next hour they had covered “You’re the One That I Want” from
Grease,
nixed the
Brady Bunch
theme song, belted out “I’ve Got You, Babe” by Sonny and Cher, “Monday, Monday” by the Mamas and the Papas, several Beach Boy songs, and ended with their theme song, “You’ve Got A Friend,” but, of course, not without friendly fire regarding artists.

“Hey, anybody ever to go Gilley’s?” Suzanne held up the pitcher of margaritas. “My last one.”

“I did.”

All eyes turned to Regina.

“Whatever for?” Dena had never strayed from straight-up questions. “I mean, let’s face it, Gilley’s seems way too…oh, what’s the word…? Redneck for your taste.”

“I tried out for an extra in
Urban Cowboy
.” Regina rearranged herself in her chair. “I think I would have gotten the job, but I couldn’t get the hang of that two-step thing.”

“Yeah, that would be a deal-breaker.” Allison stretched her legs. “Did you see Bud?”

“You mean John?”

The atmosphere mimicked a round of truth or dare. The floor was open to Regina. It would have been so easy to fabricate some wild story about her and Travolta, but something seemed to have shifted after spending time with the group of old friends. At least tonight, her self-inflation button had been switched to the off position. She chose truth.

“No.” She smoothed an imaginary wrinkle from her blouse. “Didn’t even get close.”

The bonfire coals had burned down to mostly ashes. Yawns circled the group like a wave at a sports event. Allison stood to gather her belongings and looked around for something to help disperse the remnants of the fire.

“Do you think she’s here?” All eyes swerved toward Suzanne. “Denise...do you think she’s here?”

Allison had found a small stick and spread out the remaining bits of glowing coals. “I do.”

“Really?” Suzanne pinched her lower lip with her fingers.

Dena also rose out of her chair and extended a hand, pulling Suzanne to her feet. “Of course she is. Where else would she be?”

The women hauled chairs, blankets, and ice chests back to the parked cars, stopping to drop off the trash bag in the garbage container.

Janie, who had remained silent since her verbal spasm, started the last song of the night.

“We are the girls of the ground floor whore corp,             
We are the girls that the boys pay more for.
Out in the courtyard…under the bushes,
You can hear all the grunts and pushes.
You don’t dare to call us tra-mps,
If you do, you won’t get Green Stamps….”

“God, I’d forgotten about that song. We weren’t really like that, were we?” Suzanne’s look bordered between pure horror and puzzlement. “I mean…if my girls ever heard that.”

Dena wrapped an arm around Suzanne. “We were big talkers…b-i-g fucking talkers.”

They walked the remaining distance to their vehicles in silence.

~~~

Sunday

Once again, the movement through the bay house in the early hours would have put a snail in first place. The tension that had filled the rooms like a smoke bomb on Friday was little more than a puff of air that last morning. They’d grown up…well, for the most part. Basic personalities remained the same: Suzanne was still the most reserved, Regina maintained her best-dressed performance, and little had shifted from Dena’s vocabulary.

The group learned—which came as a surprise, even to Dena and Janie—that Frannie had not only submitted a series of short stories to a publisher, but had been offered a contract for publication.

“What the fuck?” were the first words spoken by you-know-who. “I talk to you at least once a week.” Dena sat at the kitchen table, her pile of mostly diamond jewelry in front of her waiting to be donned. “You little sneak.”

“I know, I know.” Frannie covered her face with her hands, then dropped them to her lap. “I should have said something, but I was afraid of jinxing it.”

“Uh, excuse me?” Janie stood at the sink, filling the dishwasher.

“Okay, wrong word.” Frannie’s face flushed slightly.

Of course they still had issues. Janie finally spilled the story of her and Matt. When she had arrived last Thursday she’d felt down-right pissed. But sitting among the BAGs—the BAGs of today—her anger switched to the pain she’d held in for way too long. Her eyes welled. She pressed her fists to her chest as if to stop the breaking apart of her heart, marriage, and family. The tears finally spilled. They all stayed at her side until her sobs turned to sniffles.

“Does this have anything to do with the nude chick on that weird surfboard hanging on the wall?” Piper had switched to a shirt that actually covered her mid-section. It was difficult to decide which was more noticeable, the actual full-length T-shirt or Led Zeppelin stretched across her larger than life boobs. As stated above, some basic personalities remained the same.

Janie blew into several Kleenex. “I was pissed when I got here on Thursday. A picture of Matt in his damn kayak had been hanging there forever. So, I tossed it.” She actually laughed. “That bottle opener was the first thing I found to hang on the nail.” Using a new Kleenex, she wiped the black mascara smudges under her eyes. “She’s not really naked. If you look real close she’s wearing one of those old one piece Esther Williams swimsuits. Don’t know where it came from. Probably a garage sale or something.” Janie took several deep breaths.  “Wow. That hurt, but I got to tell ya…somehow I feel better. Isn’t that weird?”

Allison gave a Cliff Notes version of life with an Alzheimer’s mom, and the upcoming decision of placing her in a specialized facility.

“How are Ben and the girls?” Dena stood in the kitchen packing up Pyrex dishes from the chicken and rice casserole.