Women of Questionable Morals
“Thank you so much for coming with me,” I told Kelly as we got out of my car and headed up my mother’s front walk.
“No problem,” she said. “You know I love your mom.” Kelly grinned like the Cheshire cat. The midday sun glinted off her sparkling eyes. “And she loves me.”
“Too frickin’ true.” My mom did love Kelly, who was bubbly and sweet and not quite as uptight as her firstborn child. My mom loved Kelly so much, she’d even tried hard to set her up with my brother when we were all in our twenties. Thank goodness it didn’t work out. I wouldn’t have been able to live with the image of the two of them together seared upon my brain.
After all the drama at the bar last night, things had mellowed today to a “strained family Thanksgiving dinner” comfort level. Like we’d all tacitly agreed we weren’t going to mention Uncle John’s conspiracy theories while we politely passed the mashed potatoes and discussed the weather.
When I came downstairs this morning, I found Kelly humming while making coffee in the kitchen. When she cheerfully handed me a mug, I decided I wasn’t going to question it.
Carrying a bag from Tony’s Deli and an iced coffee from Dunkin’ for me, I yanked open the front door of the house where I grew up. “Mom, we’re here!” No answer.
This was my normal Saturday routine—wake up, check messages for work or sometimes put in a few hours at the office, and then head over to my mom’s house for lunch. I knew she was expecting me. She was always expecting me.
Kelly and I walked toward the back of the house. “Mom?” I called again. Were we at the point where I needed to get her one of those buttons to wear around her neck in case she fell? “Mom!”
“Annie!” The voice came from outside. “We’re in the backyard!”
Phew. No Life Alert today.
I set the lunch bag on the kitchen counter, and Kelly and I headed out back. My mom, in her early seventies with close-cropped gray hair and not a stitch of makeup on her lined, olive-toned skin that matched mine, sat on the patio with another woman about her age—a woman who’d grown small and frail since I’d last seen her.
“Kelly, my dear!” My mom, ignoring me, popped up from her seat and wrapped my friend in a gigantic hug.
“So good to see you, Mrs. Kyle,” Kelly said, winking at me over my mom’s shoulder.
I beamed at her. That teasing smile had been the most normal moment between us since she got home.
My mom finally let Kelly go. “How are your parents?”
“They’re fine.”
I turned my attention to my mother’s guest, letting my mom and Kelly continue their little chitchat. “Mrs. Casey,” I said, doing a quick assessment. She’d lost quite a bit of weight, and her pale skin had taken on a translucent, papery quality. “Nice to see you. How are you?”
“I’m fine, dear,” Mrs. Casey said.
No, she wasn’t. I could tell. My doctor spidey senses were tingling.
“Regina,” my mom said, “you remember Annie’s friend Kelly?”
Mrs. Casey narrowed her eyes, thinking. “I believe I do. It’s good to see you again.”
“Nice to see you, too, Mrs. Casey.”
“Regina,” she said.
Kelly grinned, sipping her coffee. “Of course. Regina.”
I stared at her in disbelief. She had really done a one-eighty since last night when she’d been mad and weepy. This morning, she’d adopted the persona of a Disney princess—all rainbows and sunshine. Maybe she’d just needed a good night’s sleep.
“Annie”—my mom, having returned to her seat, pushed one of the patio chairs toward me with her foot—“Regina stopped by for coffee this morning.” She frowned, glancing at her friend, who nodded an assent. “Her cancer is back.”
That was my fear. Damn it. “Mrs. Casey, I’m so—”
“Regina.” She reminded me to call her that every time I saw her, but I just couldn’t do it. She had been my next-door neighbor and school principal growing up, and she’d always hold a position of authority for me, even thirty years later.
“How are you feeling?” I asked, purposefully avoiding using her name. “Who’s your doctor?”
“Dr. Stucco at Lutheran General,” she said.
I made a mental note to do some research on this doc…the name wasn’t familiar. “You like them?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said. “He wasn’t my main doctor the last go-round, but he was on the team.”
Kelly sipped her coffee. “Dr. Annie is on the case.” She squeezed my mom’s hand. “No reason to worry. Superwoman over here will take care of everything.”
Blushing, I turned to Mrs. Casey. “Are you doing chemo? Radiation?”
“I start chemo this week.”
I nodded, taking it in. “You know you can call me with any questions or concerns. I want you to call me.” I looked pointedly at my mother. “You, too—keep me updated on everything, and I’ll intervene if necessary.”
I wasn’t an oncologist, but at least I knew how to work the system if necessary. And if this Dr. Stucco turned out to be a bust, I could refer Mrs. Casey—Regina, sorry, still couldn’t do it—to someone whose reputation I knew better.
“Thank you, Annie,” Mrs. Casey said. “I appreciate it.” She patted my mom’s hand, and I realized then that a silent tear had trickled down my mother’s cheek. She and Mrs. Casey had been best friends for four decades, and the thought of losing her had to be too much to bear. They were like Kelly and me—thick as thieves, friends forever, each other’s person. And since my dad had died, my brother had moved to Texas, and I was busy with work, Mrs. Casey had been the one daily constant in my mom’s life. No wonder she’d chosen to stay in this house instead of moving in with me when I offered the bottom floor of my three-flat to her. Her person lived right next door.
“How’s Rob taking all this?” my mom asked, wiping her eyes and shoring up her shoulders, attempting to appear fine and strong for her friend.
“Rob?” Kelly whispered to me. “Who’s Rob?”
“Mrs. Casey’s son.” I blushed. “You remember…” My entire face was on fire now.
Kelly nodded knowingly. “Oh, yeah. I remember.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Mr. Boob Honker.”
Kelly knew the entire story of my life, one chapter of which included Rob taking me, a junior, to his senior prom, which was quickly followed by some hand stuff in the back of his car, the first time I’d ever made it past first base.
Mrs. Casey chuckled. “I think Rob’s in a bit of denial, but I’m so lucky to have him around.” Her grin morphing into a frown, she glanced over the fence, toward her own house. Rob had moved back in with his mom after his dad died a few years ago.
“What is it, Reg?” my mom asked.
“Nothing.” Eyes bright, Mrs. Casey shook her head. “It’s nothing. You know how it goes. Sometimes I just have those moments of realization that things will be ending for me—sooner or later,” she added quickly. “It’s a symptom of being over seventy more than anything.”
My mom squeezed her hand. “Regina, you’re going to be okay.”
“You are,” I said. “We’re all going to take good care of you.”
“I know.” Mrs. Casey smiled. “It’s just, any brush with mortality like this gets you thinking, that’s all.” Her lip quivered. “I’m worried about leaving Robbie alone.”
My mom jumped up from her chair, ran to Mrs. Casey, and hugged her from the back. Once again, my chest tightened at the thought of Kelly and me like this, in our seventies, one of us on the verge of losing the other. After three months without her in the house with me, I honestly wondered how I would survive if I were the one left behind. Being alone did not suit me.
“Don’t talk like that!” my mom said. “You’re going to be fine, and no matter what, Rob will be, too.”
“I know, I know.” Mrs. Casey shrugged her off. My mom took the hint and went back to her seat. “It’s silly. I know that Robbie has his friends and his business—he has a very full life—but I’d like to see him settled down, you know, to leave with the knowledge that someone will be there for him, no matter what.”
“His friends will be there for him.” I didn’t know Rob very well as an adult—we were just Facebook friends—but I could tell he had a large group of long-term buddies who always had his back. “He’ll be fine.”
Mrs. Casey shook her head. “His friends have all settled down. They have families.”
I was about to say it didn’t matter that they all had families of their own now, that their friendships would stand the test of time, but, no, Mrs. Casey did have a point. Yessi and I were still close, but she had Polly and Olivia now, not to mention her career. Naturally, she couldn’t be there for me and Kelly like she could back in our twenties.
“I want to see him married again,” Mrs. Casey said. “Maybe that’s selfish of me, but…it’s how I feel.”
My mom squeezed her friend’s hand. “I totally get it, Regina.”
I shot Kelly a “kill me now” look. I’d heard this song and dance not infrequently from my mother—that she wanted to see me settled down and married, as if that would signal the end of my story, like people didn’t grow or change or get divorced or die or anything like that, like marriage was the final nail in someone’s coffin. I was a doctor with a very successful practice—a job that kept me busy seven days a week. People paid a hefty fee for me to be at their beck and call. Maintaining romantic relationships had always been tricky, and my mom knew that. Still, none of that counted for anything in her mind. She’d only be fully proud of me when I had a ring on my finger.
And now they were discussing poor Rob behind his back, making assumptions about what he wanted. He owned his own construction business and worked a ton, too. From what I could ascertain on Facebook, he seemed happy and content. He’d already tried the marriage thing once, and apparently it hadn’t worked out.
Maybe Rob was fine on his own, like me. And Kelly.
For me, marriage had never been the be-all and end-all. It had never been a priority. I knew at a young age that I didn’t want kids, and so I never felt that urge to partner up. Having a spouse was great for some people, but I had something equally great—a best girlfriend who was also perpetually single and who’d be my ride-or-die companion through our adult lives. We’d been talking about it for years—traveling around the world together after retirement, buying a home down in Florida, drinking daiquiris, and carrying on affairs with various pool boys.
I nudged Kelly gently in the side, and she shot me a smile tinged with sadness. She was so sensitive, Mrs. Casey’s story was probably hitting her right in the feels.
Then, suddenly, her eyes lit up mischievously. “Maybe Rob and Annie should get together.”
I glared at her. I expected that kind of comment from my mom, but not from my traitorous best friend.
“I’ve always thought you and Rob would make a great couple. Annie, you know that.” My mom’s eyes turned dreamy. Thank you so much, Kelly, for putting this particular bee in her bonnet. Now I’ll never hear the end of it.
“Rob always has such nice things to say about you,” Mrs. Casey said.
“I haven’t talked to Rob in a long time,” I said, “but he was always nice to me when we were kids.” I tactfully left out the part about losing my hand virginity to him.
“You are both single and about the same age,” my mom said.
I laughed off her comment. “Like that’s all it takes, Mom. We’re not pandas at the zoo.”
“Circumstance is a powerful thing.” Kelly looked as dreamy as my mom now. She was probably trying to imagine which of Rob’s groomsmen she’d hook up with at our wedding.
“Okay, so why don’t you go out with him?” I said, smiling sweetly. “You’re here today. That’s as much circumstance as me being here.”
“We were talking about you, not me.”
“I appreciate that, but I’m fine on my own. You all know this.” I had the dating apps on my phone. Sometimes I even looked at them. I wasn’t utterly useless, dating-wise. “I understand this is all coming from a good place, but it’s making me uncomfortable.”
“Annie, we’re just trying to help,” my mom said.
“I get that, but it feels a little like you’re ganging up on me,” I said.
Kelly snapped out of her daydream. “We’re not ganging up on you, Annie. We love you and want you to be happy.”
“I am happy,” I said, shrugging, “and the only reason you guys are pushing this is because Rob is single and I’m single. That’s it. I think I’ve spoken to him twice in twenty years. Why on earth do you think Rob Casey is the key to my happiness?”
“And why are you one hundred percent sure he isn’t?” Kelly asked.
Well, I didn’t have an answer for that.
“You and Rob should exchange numbers, at least,” my mom said, pulling out her phone.
“Mom—” I warned.
“I’m not trying to start anything, Annie. Seriously.” She tapped on her phone.
I chuckled. “Sure you’re not.”
“I mean it. You’re right that we were only trying to push you two together because you both happen to be unattached right now. I’m sorry, and I won’t do it again.”
I narrowed my eyes, watching her carefully. I didn’t buy it. She never gave up this easily.
She scrolled through her phone. “I’m just saying, Rob should be able to reach you in case Regina needs anything, or if Rob has any questions about her care.”
Damn it. She’d played me like a fiddle, and she knew it. She pretended to drop the whole dating-Rob scenario and tapped into my doctor gene, knowing that I’d never be able to live with myself if I didn’t do all I could to support Mrs. Casey. “Okay. He’s welcome to contact me if he has any health-related questions.”
My phone pinged, and I looked down. My mom had already sent me Rob’s number. That woman worked quick. I loaded his contact info into my address book.
“But that’s it.” I raised my eyebrows at my mother and Mrs. Casey. “He should call me only in my official doctor capacity.”
All three women stared at me, wide-eyed and innocent. Kelly blinked.
“Of course, Annie.” Mrs. Casey winked at my mom, who passed it on to Kelly.
Shaking my head, I stood. I had to get out of here and away from the three matchmakers trying to orchestrate a love connection. “I’ll bring out our sandwiches,” I said, leaving the three of them to plan my imaginary future nuptials to one Robert James Casey.