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Authors: Terry Lee

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BOOK: Time Trials
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“Everybody’s good.” Allison kneaded the sides of her neck with her knuckles. “Believe me, it’s definitely a team effort.”

“Whatever happened to that guy you dated in college?” Regina sat next to Allison at the table. “I thought for sure you’d end up with him.”

If Janie had the Tourette’s mouth when under the influence, Regina cornered the market on “need for sensitivity training.” How like Regina
not
to remember how difficult that time had been for Allison.

The room fell to an almost respectful silence…like when walking into a church…or funeral home. Allison studied Regina’s sculptured face before replying. “He’s married and has two boys…I believe.”

“Well, that’s our signal to hit the road.” Dena stood and nodded toward Frannie. “Anyone else?”

“Yeah.” Piper heaved the straps of her paisley duffle bag up to her shoulder. “I’m out of here. I’ve got a helluva long drive.”

A collective, but silent, sigh of relief circled the room when Piper left the house without the gallon milk jug.

Before the departures, they’d all exchanged current phone numbers and made tentative plans to have another get-together the same time next year. Those in the Houston area, which included everyone
except
Piper, who still lived near Fort Worth, agreed to get together and see what they could do to help Denise’s family.

The weekend had been a success. They’d reconnected, actually in many ways they never had before. Janie and Regina had shared a “moment” with their tormenting little inner selves, which was a definite first. Piper had revealed to Allison and Regina that she had a daughter, and Frannie got to share her news about becoming a published writer. Janie gained support about her failing marriage, and Regina finally felt like a true Bad-Ass-Girl. And Suzanne had been able to work through some much withheld torment of not being present for her best friend at the time of her death.

The BAGs, all wearing their “diamond” red flip-flops, said goodbye to end their farewell weekend to Denise.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 25

 

The Interview - 1992

 

Wednesday afternoon the television station set up a camera crew in the courtyard of the Fountain Oaks Apartment complex. The brief ceremony was set for two o’clock. A military veteran would present the dog tags to Viola Middleton, mother of the fallen soldier, who had been killed in the Vietnam War in 1970. Twenty-two years had passed.

“Why am I so nervous?” Regina asked Snow. Where the hell was Snow? “I’m a Scorpio, for God’s sake. Scorpios don’t get rattled.”

Regina learned Ms. Middleton had reluctantly agreed to a short interview after the presentation. Few people intimidated Regina, as far as she would let anyone see, but something about Ms. Middleton scared the shit out of her. She always mailed her rent check at the first of the month instead of hand delivering it, and had only had a few—but all unpleasant—face-to-face moments with the apartment manager. Roger, her immediate boss and head of the news desk, decided to attend, which added to Regina’s rattled nerves.

“Thank God, you’re here!” Regina released a huge breath at the sight of Allison and Suzanne walking out to the courtyard. “I didn’t know if you’d remember it was today, and then my boss showed up. Wait till you see this woman. She looks like a pit bull ready for a fight. Do I look too orange?”

“Hey, calm down.” Allison pulled back and did a full head to toe examination of her ex-roommate. “Who are you and what have you done with Regina? She’s tall, looks like you, but is a smartass and awfully sure of herself.”

Regina pushed the two back under the breezeway, out of earshot from any of the station personnel. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

Suzanne turned to Allison. “Doesn’t that sound like me?” She next faced Regina. “You sound like me.”

“What is
wrong
with you?” Allison grabbed Regina by the shoulders. “Let me see your pupils. Did you forgot to take your medicine this morning…or maybe took too much?”

“Oh stop.” Regina shrugged off Allison’s grip and used a hand to run fingers lightly through her hair.

“Maybe I should slap you out of it.” Allison turned to Suzanne and grinned. “I’ve always wanted to do that.”

“Just give me a minute.” Regina placed her hand on her chest. “Really, do I look too orange? I think I overdid the self-tanning thing today. Does my lipstick look okay?”

“It’s tattooed on.” Allison reached into her purse for a small mirror. “Don’t think it’s going anywhere. Here.” She handed over the mirror.

“I always wondered about that.” Suzanne edged closer to Regina’s face for a better look. “Did that hurt?”

“Really? That’s the best you two have to offer? I’m dying here.” Regina moved the mirror around to check all areas of her face and neck before snapping the compact close.

“Okay, okay.” Allison smoothed out her voice. “Too late for a counseling session, so we’re gonna go with just some d-e-e-p breathing.”

The three women stood in the breezeway of the Fountain Oaks Apartment and collectively practiced deep breathing techniques as if they were in a yoga class. Two minutes of actually oxygenating the brain seemed to do the trick. Regina’s face relaxed as much as cosmetically possible and she seemed to regain her usual haughty composure.

“I’m better now.” She smoothed out her spandex-fitting dress and practiced her on-stage smile.

“Regina! Get over here,” the head of the news desk yelled.

“Oh shit.” Regina darted off like R2D2 being chased by a storm trooper, far from the Yoda tranquility she’d experienced only moments before. She slammed to a halt next to the person who would wire her earpiece for the interview.

In the past, Regina had only seen her landlord in funky overalls and tennis shoes. Now, Regina wasn’t a total snob.
Yeah right
. So
now
Snow pipes in. Overalls could be really fashionable if they were from someplace like Banana Republic, with a decent accent top. But Ms. Middleton’s usual attire looked like something out of
Hee-Haw
. However, today Ms. Middleton actually wore a pantsuit. Drab, and definitely not one Regina would ever be caught wearing, but it beat the overalls.

The ceremony was brief, and Regina learned the veteran presenting the dog tags was actually the woman’s nephew. A polished rectangular cedar box containing the recovered dog tags of the fallen soldier had been handed over to Ms. Middleton. At the completion of the ceremony, Regina approached the woman in the drab pantsuit and extended her hand.

“Ms. Middleton, I will be conducting the interview.” Regina tried to ignore the golf ball lodged in her throat and the narrow grey eyes giving her a once over. She had been informed Ms. Middleton requested that the interview take place inside. “Do you mind if the camera crew sets up the lights in your apartment?”

Ignoring the extended hand, Ms. Middleton clutched the cedar box. “Will this take long?” Though slight in stature, the woman easily reduced Regina to a glob of Silly Putty.

“No.” Regina cleared her throat. “We can be in and out in no time.”

Ms. Middleton wheeled around and yelled at a relatively young man dressed in fatigues. “Fletcher!” The woman’s voice sounded bitter and unfriendly. “Let those guys into the apartment,” she ordered.

Regina had been given some background information, which provided her with prompts to hopefully move the interview along. Hopefully. She glanced back at her compadres for assurance, who both gave a thumbs up.

“Theo, move!” Ms. Middleton ordered her cocker spaniel out of the doorway. “Fletcher, take him for a walk. He doesn’t need to see this.”

The young man in camo fatigues grabbed a nearby leash. “C’mon, boy.” The dog took off like a greyhound released from the starting gate, and landed securely in the man’s arms. “That’s a good boy.” Man and dog, both appearing to be smiling, left the apartment.

Regina used this as a conversation starter. “Theo. That’s an unusual name for a dog.”

The woman stopped and turned. “Why?”

Caught off guard, Regina took a step back. She heard Snow in her head saying
Keep moving.
Thank God Snow had joined forces. “I mean….” Regina cleared her throat, grateful the camera had not started rolling. “It’s great. I’ve just never heard it used as a dog’s name. I…just…wondered where…you came up with it.” Already feeling defeated, she felt her legs weakening at the cold stare from the woman she was about to interview.

“It’s short for Theodore.” Ms. Middleton spoke through clenched teeth. “I name my dogs after presidents. Don’t ask me why.”

No problem
, Regina and Snow silently replied.

The cameraman caught Regina’s attention. He held up three fingers, two, one, and then pointed to the red light on the camera.

With the thousand-times-in-the-mirror practiced smile, Regina began the interview. “We’re here today with Ms. Viola Middleton, mother of Michael Middleton, a Vietnam war hero tragically killed over twenty-two years ago. Ms. Middleton has just been presented with a most memorable gift…her son’s military dog tags from 1970, recovered in what was then the Tay Ninh Province.” She turned to the woman, who had white-knuckled fingers around the small cedar chest. “I imagine this is a very emotional experience for you.”

“Yes.”

Regina touched the corner of her eye to still the nervous twitch. “And your nephew made the presentation. Is that correct?”

“Yes.”

Practiced smile still frozen in place, Regina glanced around the apartment and caught sight of a multitude of framed pictures on one wall. “I see you have a lot of mementos. Would you care to tell us about them?”

“Turn off the camera,” Ms. Middleton ordered.

“But—”

“Turn
off
the camera.”

Regina shrugged at Roger, who gave the nod for the camera to stop rolling.

“Look, we need to get a few things straight.” The woman moved to a nearby recliner and lowered herself, the cedar box remaining in her lap. “I’m not a very talkative person. I don’t even watch the news. I think it’s all crap.” Ms. Middleton yanked down on the front panel of her pantsuit. “I agreed to this interview, though I don’t know why. But since I did, I’ll tell you what we can discuss.”

The movement of air in the apartment stilled. All Regina’s fears about the interview materialized right before her eyes. She wouldn’t have been a bit surprised to see the woman before her morph into some creepy alien from a Twilight Zone rerun. She didn’t move a muscle and only took tiny inhales of breath when she felt her lungs shrivel. The last thing she wanted to do was keel over in a dead faint.

“Number one. I participate in the Volunteer Transportation Program with the VA. We take vets to doctor’s appointments, and then return them home. Number two. I’m part of the VA Advocacy Program, and I also volunteer for Meals on Wheels. And number three, if you’ve got any questions about the guy in fatigues who’s walking Theo, forget it. He is the son of a friend of mine. He’s recently returned from the Gulf War and has some sort of brain injury. He does odd jobs for me around here. Makes him feel better. But don’t talk to him. He’s had a rough time since he got back, and he doesn’t do well around strangers. And number four.” Ms. Middleton shot a cold hard laser stare at Regina that could have resulted in two black holes where eyes had once been on her cosmetically altered face. “I hate wars. There.”

So, that was how it went. The camera resumed and Regina asked about Ms. Middleton and her volunteer work. End of interview. The crew repacked their equipment while Regina spoke briefly with her boss. She hoped to do some damage control later before the piece aired.

“Take the rest of the day off.” Roger rarely showed compassion for anyone. However, even he obviously recognized the tension in Regina’s demeanor after dealing with Ms. Middleton’s rigid demeanor.

“Wait!” The crew, Regina, even Roger, stiffened at the sound of Ms. Middleton’s voice, as if they were playing a child’s game of freeze tag.

“You.” The woman’s finger pointed directly at Regina. Even Roger looked relieved he had not been singled out. Regina, on the other hand, decided she definitely needed a pee break…and a stiff drink.

“Come here.”

She rarely allowed people to use that tone with her, although at the moment she felt like a third grader who had just been caught sticking bubble gum under her desk. Regina eased her way through the camera crew while they jumped on the opportunity to leave the apartment.
Cowards
, she thought. She stood within striking distance of the old woman.

“I know you.” Ms. Middleton paused, her gray eyes squinted. “Why?”

Oh God, the end to top everything. If it wouldn’t be so noticeable, Regina would have dabbed at the sweat she felt on the back of her neck that seeped down onto her spandex dress. She chewed on the inside of her lip. “Uh…I…live here….across the courtyard.”

What seemed like an hour later the woman replied. And, of course, it was brief.

“Oh.”

~~~

“What took so long?” Allison grabbed Suzanne’s arm. They had to double-time their steps to keep up with Regina.

“Get me out of here.” Regina stopped when they got to the parking lot. “I need a drink.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.” Allison held open her car door. “I’ll drive and drop you back off afterwards.”

Ten minutes later they walked into a darkened bar with rounded booths. “Let’s go this way.” Allison led Regina and Suzanne to a booth toward the back.

“Well, how’d it go?” Dena asked.

“What?”

The once lodged golf ball in Regina’s throat transformed into the kind of knot one feels right before the waterworks start. Around this leather-padded booth sat Frannie, Dena, and Janie. They scooted closer together to make room for Regina, Allison, and Suzanne.

“But…how?” Regina, never at a loss for words, felt like a blubbering idiot.

“Hot damn. We did it!” Dena high-fived the others at the table. “She’s fucking speechless. Where’s a camera?”

“Oh, stop.” Regina grabbed a napkin from the table and dabbed at her eyes, actually surprised she still possessed tear ducts. “I…just can’t believe…you’re all here.”

“Bad-Ass-Girls to the end. Waiter!” Dena raised her famous deeper than blood-red polished nail of her index finger.

A waiter appeared with a tray holding six high-ball glasses.

“What is this?” Regina held up the glass and raised rounded eyes to the waiter. “We haven’t even ordered yet.”

“Well, Piper couldn’t be here, so…guess what?” Allison raised her glass. “She ordered us a round of White Russians. Cheers!”

“Damn.” Janie examined the contents of her glass after her first sip. “This isn’t half bad.”

“Especially since it’s not out of a milk jug.” Suzanne covered her mouth as if she didn’t really mean to speak out loud, though her eyes betrayed laughter.

That day would forever be solidified in Regina’s memory bank. For
that
day, she truly understood the meaning of friendship.

BOOK: Time Trials
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