Swan Coach House, upstairs sun porch. Monday, May 3, 2004. 8:00 P.M.
John and I crowded into the tiny elevator. “I cannot believe she sprang for valet parking,” I said, adjusting my red rhinestone tiara.
“It’s her money,” John said in that live-and-let-live way he had.
I grasped his lapels and gave him a good wiggle where it counted. “Now remember, you promised to be charming, which we all know you can be. And you promised not to go off with the men and forget I’m there.”
He wiggled back, smiling on me with a half-lidded blend of lust and affection. “This, from Miss Sputnik, who’s always off in orbit somewhere as soon as we get to a party?”
“Guilty as charged,” I said as the little elevator wheezed to a stop at the second floor. “But not tonight. Tonight, I won’t run off and leave you. I want a good, old-fashioned date.” The doors opened. “Can we do that?”
He shot me a sexy look, then swept me into his arms and danced me right out of the elevator and into an attractive, tall, stocky man.
Oh, Lord. The Mattress Man. But then, he would be there. He was SuSu’s study partner.
“Sorry.” John kept his arm behind me, but moved alongside me to speak to the man. “I was just dancing my bride to the party.”
“I’m all for dancin’ our brides.” The guy stuck out his hand. “You must be John and Georgia.”
He and John shook. “We met,” I said, bristling. “Sort of.”
John was oblivious. “And you’re…”
The Mattress Man colored. “Oh, gosh, I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself. I’m a little nervous, meetin’ SuSu’s friends and all. I’m Stan McCann.”
“The Mattress Man,” I bit out. “From those annoying commercials on the TV at night.”
John’s eyes widened at my complete lapse of social graces. “You look much thinner in person,” he offered in an awkward effort to smooth things over.
But Stan McCann didn’t turn a hair. “It’s the ukulele,” he said, deadpan. “And the baby bonnet.” He shook his head. “Adds forty pounds.”
I sputtered a laugh. In spite of myself, I couldn’t help liking somebody so unpretentious.
The way SuSu had described him that first year, I’d expected him to be chomping on a fat, half-smoked cigar, but he was really charming.
“She told me you were the prettiest one,” he complimented with just the right mix of flattery and decorum. “You’re a lucky man, John.”
I sensed John’s territorial hackles rise and was delighted. “Thanks, Stan,” he said, aloof. “I know it.”
Stan motioned across the landing. “SuSu’s on the sun porch with the bar and the finger foods. She put me here to send everybody out there till the ballroom’s ready.”
Ballroom? I’d hardly call it a ballroom. The largest of the private rooms had a dance floor, true, but even it was a pretty intimate space.
“Thanks, Stan.” John steered me toward the glassed-in balcony. “C’mon, honey. Let’s go meet some of those legal eaglets SuSu’s been telling us about.”
We stepped down onto the slightly sloping floor of what had once been outdoors. The balcony remained, but it had long since been glassed in.
At the far corner by a formidable collection of nonalcoholic beverages, SuSu was talking to three young couples I assumed were the infamous legal eaglets. She had on an amazing purple sequined halter top that made the most of the new puppies and her peel, with a long bell of red satin skirt. Her hair was caught up at the crown and decorated with a charming explosion of red feathers and sparkles. She looked even more radiant than four weeks ago.
I was pretty sure why. She must have aced her exams.
“Wow.” John looked down the left side of the room at an impressive array of fresh fruits and chocolate fondue, lovely crudités with dips, mushrooms stuffed with sausage, and fried crab claws with cocktail sauce. “She’s going first-class all the way on this one.”
SuSu glanced over and spotted us. “Georgia! John!” She turned to the younger set. “Please excuse me. I’ll be right back with some people you’re going to enjoy.” Then she rushed to us. “I got it! Number one in my class!”
She didn’t mention her other achievement—almost two months sober—but she didn’t need to. We could all tell from her clear-eyed glow.
She wriggled between us and hooked our arms. “C’mon. I want you to meet some of my study group. Craig’s incredible with researching case law.” She led us to the thin, callow young man who looked decidedly subterranean. “Georgia and John Baker, allow me to present Craig Maier and his date, Megan.” Another child of the night, with a lank, butcher-job haircut and no makeup. They both had on baggy clothes and looked like they needed transfusions. “Megan and Craig, these are two of my very best friends.”
“SuSu’s told me so much about you, Craig,” I said as I shook his hand, which felt like it was made out of damp sponge rubber. I managed not to cringe.
John was charming to Megan. “Are you in school?” he asked her.
She nodded. “Tech. Postdoctorate.”
That waif could not possibly be postdoctoral. She’d have had to graduate when she was twelve.
John brightened. “I teach at Tech.”
“I know. I’ve read several of your papers on string theory.”
“Really?” He straightened, smoothing his hand down his tie, a strong subliminal indicator of the direction his brain was taking. “What’s your field?”
Behind those raggedy bangs, Megan actually batted her almost-invisible eyelashes at him. “I’m doing postdoctoral research with fractals.”
John’s smile widened. “Fractals. Fascinating stuff. Tell me what you’re doing.”
Megan looked up at him with patent lust as she started rattling off random theory jargon, one of the love languages of the Bigbrain physics tribe. Whether her lust was intellectual or otherwise, it was my turn to get territorial.
Two years ago, I wouldn’t even have noticed. Now that I was hopelessly besotted with the man, I cared very much.
“Oh, look, John. There’s Brooks and Linda.” Hooking his arm, I beamed at Megan. “Please excuse us for a moment.” Or forever. “We need to speak to our friends.”
“We’ll talk later,” John called back as I steered him across the room.
SuSu, who had been enjoying the whole thing, waggled her fingers good-bye.
I hugged Brooks warmly when we reached them. “Hey, honey. How are things in the OR?”
“Bloody mahvelous,” he quipped in response, as he had for the past thirty years.
Meanwhile, John hugged Linda, as he always did when we met. That, I did not mind one whit.
Brooks turned to John, his arm around my shoulders. “You’d better hang onto this girl. Since she got back from that cruise, she’s man-bait.”
“I know.” John drew me close, anything but threatened.
I felt feisty and jealous and more than a little turned on.
“Hey,” I said to Linda. “You look mahvelous.”
Linda bobbed a tiny curtsy. “So do you. Very slinky.” She inclined her head toward Craig and Megan. “What was that all about?”
“Oh. Megan. Just another in a long line of baby Bigbrains on the make. She was after his mind. I just wasn’t in the mood for it tonight.”
John moved around behind me and circled my arms, his chin perched just behind my tiara. “Yes, she was after my mind,” John teased, enjoying my jealousy. “And more.”
I swatted at him. “Cut that out.”
He laughed like a boy and swung me into a Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers whirl the likes of which we hadn’t done in years. I thanked the good Lord I had on heels with slippery enough soles to make the moves with him.
Polite applause broke out from the legal eaglets and their dates.
Megan took a swat at Craig. “How come you never do anything like that with me?” she complained.
John and I laughed and came to rest back beside Brooks and Linda.
Linda let out a satisfied sigh. “Y’all are so disgusting. Keep it up.”
“Oh, yeah? How about us?” Brooks stepped back, erect with arms poised, humming the opening notes of a tango. (They’d been taking lessons.) Linda stepped into a slow, seductive rendition that made all of us who were watching forget that they were two round little gray-haired people.
We heard applause from the doorway, and looked over to see Pru walk in with a tall, apologetic-looking man I didn’t recognize.
SuSu hurried over and greeted them, then introduced the guy as Doyle Travers. He had kind, tired eyes, but seemed awkward and out of his element.
“Doyle and I met through a mutual friend,” Pru explained. “He’s the best dancer I know, so I asked him to come with me tonight.” She fixed a reassuring look of pride on him, and he stood a little straighter. Pru looked comfortable but attractive in a deep purple pantsuit with a red camisole.
Then Doyle saw the food, and I knew where he was headed. “Can I get you a plate?” he asked Pru.
“You go ahead. I’ll be right here.”
There was something in the air. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I sensed a tidal shift in our cosmos, which made no sense, because we were all firmly anchored in our lives.
Who wasn’t there?
Teeny. Clay and Diane.
Oooo. Maybe that was it. Maybe Diane and Clay had reached an understanding.
Speak of the devil, Diane walked in looking smashing in royal purple leather jeans and boots, a fringed satin western shirt with a modestly plunging neckline, and topping it off, a perfectly scaled red cowboy hat with feathers and rhinestones around the crown.
We all went over to greet her, anxious to meet the elusive Clay.
When it became obvious she was alone, Linda peered out into the landing. “Where’s Clay?”
Diane smiled, a touch of wistfulness in the resolution she showed. “North Carolina would be my guess.”
I had a bad feeling about this. “He couldn’t come?”
“He wasn’t invited.”
The men had sense enough to drift away and leave the Red Hats to deal with such touchy woman stuff.
“Okay,” SuSu said. “Enough with the one-word answers. What’s going on here?”
“Well, I decided to take Teeny’s advice and go away with Clay for a while. And guess what? He proposed.”
“That’s good,” Pru said. “Isn’t it?”
“Not if he wants me to commute to North Carolina every weekend. And holiday. And give him unlimited access to all my assets, with no prenuptial.” Her features hardened with disappointment. “And especially not when I checked up on his financial status and found out he was in debt up to his eyeballs. The house, the cars, his businesses, the condo in the mountains. All of it was hocked to the hilt. No wonder his kids were so friendly. They were hoping I would bail him out.”
“Sonofabitch,” SuSu said. “A gold digger.”
“Oh, Diane.” I hugged her, but she was too embarrassed to hug me back.
“Do we need to get a gun?” Pru asked. “’Cause I know where we can get one that’s untraceable, cheap.”
“Pru!” Diane exhaled in exasperation.
Pru shot a finger-gun at her with a grin. “Gotcha.”
“Oh, sweetie,” Linda said. “So you’re here all by yourself?”
Diane perked right up. “Nope. I’ve got a date, but he had a meeting out of town, so he had to meet me here.” She went sly on us. “You know him.”
I tried to think of somebody we knew who traveled in his work that Diane might invite, but came up dry. “Okay, we give. Who is it?”
“You’ll see.” Diane hardly looked brokenhearted. She left us and went over to greet John and Brooks, who introduced her to Doyle.
The caterer came in and snagged SuSu, leading her away toward the room with the dance floor. When they opened the door across the landing, we heard the sounds of a band setting up.
Linda tucked her semisingle chin. “Live music?”
“Sounds like it.” I poked my head out onto the landing, but the ballroom door had closed. “Band must have been late. Guess that’s the hang-up.”
It was already almost 8:30.
“Any ideas about Diane’s date?” Pru asked.
“Not a clue,” Linda said. “If I’d have had anybody in mind, I would have fixed her up with them.”
“Somebody we know,” Pru mused.
I raised a finger. “Come to think of it, where’s SuSu’s date?”
“Good question.”
SuSu reappeared, only to be accosted by the Red Hats.
“Where’s your date?” I asked her.
SuSu walked over to the window overlooking the parking area and peered into the darkness. “In due time.” She shooed us over toward her study group, who had congregated at the far end of the buffet and didn’t appear to be having a very good time. “Now would y’all please mingle? I asked you all here so you could meet each other. I’m telling you, these are very wonderful people. Please go and charm them.”
“Oh, all right.” We’d just have to wait till the mystery dates arrived to find out what was up.
We were mingling away when I saw Diane look over toward the doorway and light up like a Christmas tree.
In unison, the five of us followed her line of vision to a tall, gorgeous hunk of cowboy.
“Cameron!”
Cameron and John, in the same room? I almost passed out from an orgasm, on the spot.
Stetson in hand, Cameron ambled over to Diane and met the men, then turned and came alone to Pru. “Do you remember me?”
Impulsive as the teenager she had once been, Pru jumped on him like a monkey, wrapping her legs around his waist and clapping him on the back. “Do I? Man, you saved my life!” She pointed to him, announcing to the room, “This man saved my life. Perfect stranger, he talked me into leaving Vegas when I was hell-bent on destruction.”
Doyle tipped his Coke in Cameron’s direction. “Mighty nice of you.”
Cameron just stood there, smiling graciously as if he didn’t have a grateful addict wrapped around his waist.
Diane came over and tapped Pru on the shoulder. “That’s my date, sweetie. You think you could let go of that leg lock so we can say hello?”
Pru flushed the color of her hat. She ejected backward, almost flattening Linda in the process.
“Easy, tiger.” Cameron caught her arm in time to prevent a tumble.
Watching him turn to Diane, I could almost see the hormones pulsing between them, even stronger than they had in Vegas.
Gazing up at him, she murmured, “Cameron’s takin’ me back to the ranch for a couple of weeks.”
Good for her. That was some tidal change.
SuSu acted more nervous by the minute. “I wonder where Teeny is.” She looked at her watch. “She’s never this late.” She turned to me, apropos of nothing, and said, “I asked my kids and their significant others, but they had other things to do.”
Kids. One night, to help celebrate their mother’s accomplishments, and they couldn’t be bothered. I made a mental note to do some god-motherly phone scolding.
I heard a car pull in and looked outside to see a limo. “Here’s somebody.” Either Teens or SuSu’s date.
“Georgia, come here, please.” John summoned my attention away from the window. “I want you to meet Andrew. He got four book awards his first year.”
“Just a second, honey.” I looked back to see I’d missed the passengers’ getting out.
Rats.
I crossed to meet the boy who had won one more book award than even SuSu (a serious coup in Law School). John was really in his element. These were very brilliant kids.
I wondered if any of them had even heard of the Shag or the Stroll. Well, once the band finally cranked up, they’d learn tonight.
“Hey, everybody,” Teeny’s voice came from the landing. She stepped into the doorway, a vision in purple bangles, boas, and beads, with a jewel-encrusted red toque that practically flamed around her face. She drew a plump little man forward. “Elton, say hello to my friends.”
Elton John rushed across the room, clasping our hands in effusive recognition. “Oh, and you must be George and John.” He beamed. “Love the sound of that.” With a contagious cackle, he moved on. “And you must be Pru.”
I went over to Teeny. “Teeny,” I whispered, “you know this man is gay, right?”
“Of course.” She gave me a nudge. “I only want to dance with him, honey.”
“Just checking.”
“Georgia, I never was that naïve.”
Pretty soon, Elton had us all in stitches.
“See? Isn’t he great?” Teeny asked. “The sweetest, most fun man.”
Only SuSu didn’t get in the swing of things. She started to pace.
“What’s the matter?” Linda asked her. “Can we help?”
She shot a pregnant glance at Linda. “We’re just missing one couple, then we can get started.”
I heard the elevator bell chime downstairs.
“Maybe that’s them.”
The bell dinged on our floor, and the room poised at the sound of the doors opening, then footsteps.
In walked our collective goddaughter, Abby, with a tall brown man as elegant as a Byzantine icon, in a dashiki and baggy pants, his intricate body art peeking out of the neckline and the sleeves.
Linda pasted a frozen smile on her face.
Osama came over and bowed to Brooks, then her, with what appeared to be genuine deference.
Abby wasn’t so reserved. She hugged her mother, then flew to all of us distributing more hugs.
When Osama came to meet me, I looked into his eyes and saw intelligence and compassion. Maybe Abby wasn’t doomed, after all. “What happened to your dreadlocks?” I asked him.
He glanced with love toward Abby. “Life is a journey. When a man becomes a man, he is willing to put away certain unnecessary things to bring happiness to those he loves. I did not need the dreadlocks anymore.”
You wanted them, but you didn’t need them.
“Finally,” SuSu announced. “We’re all here, including the band, so if y’all could all move into the ballroom, I have a very special surprise for all of you.”
I clung to John’s arm. “If this one is anything like Elton John, hold me up. I am serious. I’m not sure I can handle it.”
My John closed his hand around mine. “Gotcha covered, honey.”
We walked into the ballroom to find a fairyland of tables decorated in purple and red with tiny, bright lights, centered around a canopy draped with scads of tulle and flowers in the same color scheme. SuSu’s parents were beaming in front of the canopy, decked out to beat the band alongside her grown children, with pride and happiness alight on all their faces.
I couldn’t remember seeing the McIntyres so happy. Or so stylish. SuSu mounted the two stairs to the canopy and stood there, alone and radiant. “Beloved friends,” she said in a clear voice that carried all the way to the back of the room. “I have asked you all here to celebrate a very special event.” She extended her hand to the audience, where Stan McCann, the Mattress Man, rose and came forward to take it.
SuSu gazed at him with open adoration. “I want you all to meet the man I’m going to marry.” They shared an impish smile. “Tonight. With all the people we love and care about as witnesses.”
Their study group burst into applause and “I told you so’s,” but we Red Hats take longer to digest such revelations. We sat there, stunned.
SuSu looked to us. “Now, if all the Red Hats will please join me in the other room for a few minutes, the band will entertain the rest of y’all with some kick-ass Beach Music, so y’all cut a rug, and we’ll be right back.” Stan kissed her hand and let her go.
We followed, not knowing what to expect. She opened the door to the long private dining room lit only by two pillar candles on the table, motioned us in ahead of her, then joined us, closing out the rest of the party. There on the tablecloth, neatly laid out beside the glowing pillars, lay a butane match, a dull brass candle snuffer, and five colored tapers, each candle with an aged index card written in slightly faded ink.
The cards from our sisterhood ritual at her first wedding!
My knees went weak, tears springing to my eyes, my hand over my mouth.
All four of the others were crying, too.
We sounded like a funeral instead of a wedding, and SuSu didn’t help by saying softly, “I saved everything from the first time.” Silent tears were running down her cheeks, too, and she helped herself from a box of Kleenex and passed them down.
She cleared her throat, taking hold of herself, and said in a stronger voice, “This time is so special, y’all. So right. He drove me crazy, at first. He really did. But then, he wormed his way into my heart by being just plain wonderful. I wanted to tell y’all, but I was terrified I’d blow it, that he’d find out about my past and run screaming into the night. I was so afraid, I broke it off myself, right before the cruise. But when we got back, there he was, determined not to let me go. He proposed to me and said he never wanted me to leave him again. We could still have our own lives, but just with each other.” She laughed, wiping tears. “He said that even though I looked like a spring chicken, we weren’t, and he wants to make the most of every day God gives us.”
God! She said God, respectfully!
“I knew then, I had to tell him. I couldn’t lie anymore. He deserves the truth. It was the first time I prayed in a long time, but I asked God to give me strength to tell Stan everything, and He did.”
She prayed! She actually prayed!
“What did he do when you told him?” Linda dutifully prompted.
“He laughed and hugged me and said he was so relieved. He thought I was going to banish him to the outer darkness because he was so uncouth. Then he said it didn’t matter what had gone on before, he just thanked God I was exactly the way I am now, and he loved every part of me.”
“Oh, that’s so romantic,” Diane wept out.
“He’s a big softie,” SuSu said through her own tears. “So I told him it was mutual, and I even loved his sweet, snuggly stomach and all his redneck family and his corny jokes and his loud laugh.”
I laid my hand over my swelling heart, ecstatic. She’d found true love at last, both spiritual and human.
She searched our faces. “We would have told you about the wedding, really, but all this only happened when I got back. And we had exams, so we decided to keep it small and surprise everybody.”
SuSu’s green eyes pleaded with us. “I want your blessings. May I have them?”
Fresh waves of tears all but drowned out our assent.
Every hand was shaking as each of us picked up her candle and stood ready, getting a grip on ourselves so we could read the words we’d said almost a quarter of a century ago, when all of us still believed in everything.
We circled SuSu, who closed her eyes.
Teeny cleared her throat and straightened. “Susan Virginia McIntyre Harris Cates,” she said, her voice strong. “Open your eyes and behold your sisters.”
Teeny turned to Linda, who lit her candle and held the card up to its light. “This day, you take a new name and new responsibilities as a wife,” Linda, her life now fragile, read. “But the bond of sisterhood is not diminished.” She raised her candle. “I bear the blue candle of friendship. Years may pass, distances may grow, and circumstances may change, but whenever you need friendship, we will give it. Without hesitation. Without judgment. Without thought of recompense.”
YELLOW FOLLOWS BLUE, my card said across the top, but this time I didn’t miss my cue. I swallowed, hard, to ease the lump in my throat. “I bear the yellow candle of truth,” I, the frank one, read. “Whenever you need the truth, you may come to us, and we will give it in compassion. Without hesitation. Without judgment. Without thought of recompense.”
Pru lit her candle next. “I bear the purple candle of mercy,” she, the prodigal, read. “Whenever you need forgiveness, you may come to us and we will give it. Without hesitation. Without judgment. Without thought of recompense.”
Diane, still a crusader, spoke out clear and true through trembling lips. “I bear the red candle of justice. Whenever you have been wronged, you may come to us, and we will do all we can to bring justice. Without hesitation. Without judgment. Without thought of recompense.”
Teeny, still our well of secrets, brought the ritual full-circle. “I bear the white candle of silence,” she said. “When you need to share a confidence, you may come to us, and we will keep it. Without hesitation. Without judgment, and without thought of recompense.” She paused briefly, then added a crisp, “Including telling us you’re getting married.”
We all chuckled, breaking the tension.
Teeny handed SuSu the no-longer shiny brass candle-snuffer. Off the cuff, she adapted the closing portion to perfection. “As you make this most recent step beyond the days of solitude into the solemn covenant of marriage, you are offered this solemn covenant of friendship. By extinguishing each of these candles, you accept the promises we have made, and agree to extend them to each of us in turn.”
With great reverence, SuSu snuffed out each candle.
We all shared a group hug-in, laugh-in, cry-in.
Then we did as good a patch job on our makeup as we could manage, and walked back, high and proud.
When Stan saw us escorting his bride back to the canopy, he started leaking tears worthy of the big baby he portrayed in his commercials, the softie, which all of us thought was adorable.
SuSu squeezed his hand, hard, when she joined him in front of the robed minister. (Not a judge!)
The minister stepped forward and opened his well-worn Order of Service. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered in the sight of God and before this company to join this man and this woman in the bonds of Holy matrimony…”
I hugged John to my side and gave heartfelt thanks for new beginnings. For so many blessings, my mind could barely contain them.
And with a kiss, SuSu became SuSu Virginia McIntyre Harris Cates McCann. She promptly started introducing Stan as her third and final husband.
After the ceremony, I cornered her. “You said you prayed. And you had a minister do the service. Is this significant?”
She nodded with a joy I hadn’t recognized until that moment. “Well, I finally realized I was being pretty silly. Like the mole tellin’ the moon it didn’t exist. I was just mad. I learned so much more than torts from Stan. He’s a man of simple, boundless faith. I learned about self-respect and real love and what really matters from him. He adored me just like I was, made me believe I was worthy of love and happiness.” She closed her eyes briefly, like a weary pilgrim who has finally found her way home. “He didn’t tell me that was how God loved me. He showed me.”
What do you say to something so profound?
I wanted to laugh and cry and shout and kiss Stan McCann the Mattress Man on the lips, but I didn’t do any of those things.
As the band cranked up, I told SuSu, “Mazel tov!” and sent her back to her husband. Then I grabbed the love of my life, and I danced.