“You’re late,” Katharine said, glancing at the thin platinum watch on her deeply tanned wrist.
It was past ten. During the summer, when school was out, they had a Coke date every morning, alternating houses.
She frowned as she assessed Mary Bliss’s appearance. “You look like shit on a shingle,” she said, holding the back door open to let Mary Bliss enter. “And I’m the one with the hangover.”
Mary Bliss pinched her lips together to hold back another wave of nausea. She dropped down into one of the high-backed chairs in Katharine’s breakfast room. “I didn’t sleep very well last night. I almost didn’t come over this morning.” She blinked rapidly in the strong sunlight that poured in through the wall of windows overlooking the Weidmans’ rose garden.
Katharine poured two Diet Cokes into cut-glass highball tumblers, then added a slice of lime to each. She reached into the refrigerator and pulled out a tray of Sara Lee cheese Danish, which she’d already sliced up and arranged on one of her mother’s Wedgwood platters, with a garnish of strawberries and fresh mint leaves.
Mary Bliss managed a wan smile at the snack. “You’ve got style, Katharine. That’s one of the things I’ve always admired about you. You manage to make Sara Lee look like something out of Gourmet magazine.”
“I always thought you thought I was kind of trashy,” Katharine said, popping a strawberry into her mouth.
“Trashy-talking,” Mary Bliss said. “But you do everything with such elegance, I forgive you.”
She took a sip of the Diet Coke. It felt good on her dry throat. Another sip.
“Ask me why I didn’t sleep last night.”
“Was it Parker’s night for a double-header?” Katharine wagged her eyebrows, trying to look like Groucho Marx. She came off more like Bette Midler doing Groucho Marx.
Mary Bliss’s face crumpled. Her upper lip started to tremble, then her chin, then her hand shook so badly that she spilled Diet Coke all over the tile-topped table.
“What? What is it?” Katharine asked, taking the glass from her friend’s hand. “Darlin’, tell Kate. What’s the matter? Do you want another Coke? They had twelve-packs at the Citgo for a dollar ninety-nine.”
Mary Bliss shook her head violently, and the tears came again. She was sobbing and trying to cover her face with her hands, and she’d smeared her lipstick badly, making her look like a three-year-old who’d gotten into her mommy’s makeup.
Katharine was startled. Except for the lipstick, Mary Bliss wasn’t wearing any makeup, which was totally un-M.B.-like. She never, ever left home without base smoothed over her face and a light coating of mascara and concealer.
“Tell me,” Katharine said, grabbing her friend by the wrist. “Please, hon, you’re scaring me. Is it Erin? Is she all right?”
“It’s Parker. He’s left me. Note in the closet. And there’s no money.”
Katharine got up from the table and went to the kitchen cabinet. She brought out a handful of pill bottles, squinting at the label on each until she found the one she wanted. She opened it, shook a small blue tablet into the palm of her hand. She opened another bottle and took out a red-and-blue capsule.
“Take these,” she said, shoving the pills into Mary Bliss’s hand.
“Drugs?” Mary Bliss was appalled.
“Shut up and swallow,” Katharine said. She picked up her own Diet Coke and held it to Mary Bliss’s lips. “Drink it down, now.”
Mary Bliss did as she was told. She squeezed her eyes shut. As the pills slid down the back of her throat, she had a vision. The beginning of a downward spiral. She could see it now, drugs and Diet Coke. Valley of the Dolls, in Fair Oaks, Georgia.
Still, she needed some help in coping this morning. This once wouldn’t make her an addict, would it?
She swallowed, then burped a little from the carbonation.
“What was that?” she asked, reaching for a napkin to mop her face. “Halcion? Ativan?”
“Midol,” Katharine said. “With a diuretic chaser. Don’t hate me for telling you this, but I am your best friend. And I think you’re retaining water, Mary Bliss. Now. What’s this shit about Parker?”