given half the selling price to Laura and her husband so they could buy a home, and she moved into a condo in the distinguished, old brick building housing Shirley’s new spa. It was a temporary home, a kind of emotional halfway house, until she decided exactly where and how she’d like to live the rest of her life. She’d started taking classes in art therapy, and she taught classes in art at the spa. She’d gotten her life back on track. She’d prided herself on becoming, at fifty-six, a capable woman who could accept what life dished out with humor, intelligence, and hope.
She’d been a
fool.
——————————
Now, in a kind of blind panic, Faye rose, grabbed her purse, left her condo, and hurried along the back halls of the spa and out to her car in the back parking lot. Forbidding herself to cry, she settled into her BMW and drove along the country road to the Mass. Pike east to Boston. She sped along, holding back hysteria by munching all the candy she carried in her purse, until she entered the city limits. Then she doubled back west, her heart and soul so empty, she stopped at a gas station to fill up her tank and buy more chocolate.
Caught in the stream of traffic, she turned on the radio, hoping music would soothe her, hearing instead the hourly news, which reminded her that today was Friday, when the Hot Flash Club always met at Legal Seafoods for dinner.
A few cars ahead, a battered truck’s tailgate snapped, scattering the highway with household rubbish: bent aluminum lawn chairs, small electric appliances, garbage bags, an old crib. The evening rush of Boston traffic from the city toward the suburbs braked to a sludgelike crawl.
Faye didn’t mind slowing down. She was in no hurry to get to her destination. She was even glad to have a reason to be late. From her purse, she took another giant Snickers bar, tore off the wrapper, and bit off a hearty chunk, savoring the sweet chocolate. How sanguine she’d been just a year ago! Those first few months when she’d met Alice, Marilyn, and Shirley, when they’d formed the Hot Flash Club and giddily resolved to solve each other’s problems, those days had been almost like the first sweet weeks of a love affair, wild with possibility.
But it
hadn’t
been an illusion, Faye reminded herself, biting off another hunk of candy. The Hot Flash Club
had
changed her life, and
she
had helped change
their
lives. She’d changed herself, too, or she thought she had. Right now her self-esteem was so low, she couldn’t
imagine
how she’d taken on the role of suburban secret agent she’d so blithely—and, she had to admit, successfully—adopted then.
Faye smiled, remembering what fun she’d had, how much the danger and intrigue had made her pulse race. She’d actually succeeded at her assignment—no, more than succeeded. Not only had she found out whether Lila Eastbrook was marrying Marilyn’s son for his money, Faye had also discovered the secret at the Eastbrook family’s heart.
Family heart.
Her mood collapsed. Of the four members of the Hot Flash Club, Faye knew she was the most maternal—or she could just turn that thought around as the other three would and admit she was the most dependent on her maternal role!
Shirley, who’d been married and divorced three times, didn’t have any children, and her life’s dream of establishing a wellness spa had come true. She lived her dream every day.
Supercompetent Alice had managed to raise two sons as a single mother while holding down a high-powered executive position in a national insurance company. One of her grown sons was happily married, living in Texas. When Alan, her other son, showed up divorced and depressed, Alice had supported him in every way, but she hadn’t been obsessive with worry the way Faye would have been. And now Alice was
opposing
Alan’s happiness, all because of her stubborn ideas. Alice, whose son lived just as close to Alice as Faye’s daughter did to Faye,
She’d been a
fool.
——————————
Now, in a kind of blind panic, Faye rose, grabbed her purse, left her condo, and hurried along the back halls of the spa and out to her car in the back parking lot. Forbidding herself to cry, she settled into her BMW and drove along the country road to the Mass. Pike east to Boston. She sped along, holding back hysteria by munching all the candy she carried in her purse, until she entered the city limits. Then she doubled back west, her heart and soul so empty, she stopped at a gas station to fill up her tank and buy more chocolate.
Caught in the stream of traffic, she turned on the radio, hoping music would soothe her, hearing instead the hourly news, which reminded her that today was Friday, when the Hot Flash Club always met at Legal Seafoods for dinner.
A few cars ahead, a battered truck’s tailgate snapped, scattering the highway with household rubbish: bent aluminum lawn chairs, small electric appliances, garbage bags, an old crib. The evening rush of Boston traffic from the city toward the suburbs braked to a sludgelike crawl.
Faye didn’t mind slowing down. She was in no hurry to get to her destination. She was even glad to have a reason to be late. From her purse, she took another giant Snickers bar, tore off the wrapper, and bit off a hearty chunk, savoring the sweet chocolate. How sanguine she’d been just a year ago! Those first few months when she’d met Alice, Marilyn, and Shirley, when they’d formed the Hot Flash Club and giddily resolved to solve each other’s problems, those days had been almost like the first sweet weeks of a love affair, wild with possibility.
But it
hadn’t
been an illusion, Faye reminded herself, biting off another hunk of candy. The Hot Flash Club
had
changed her life, and
she
had helped change
their
lives. She’d changed herself, too, or she thought she had. Right now her self-esteem was so low, she couldn’t
imagine
how she’d taken on the role of suburban secret agent she’d so blithely—and, she had to admit, successfully—adopted then.
Faye smiled, remembering what fun she’d had, how much the danger and intrigue had made her pulse race. She’d actually succeeded at her assignment—no, more than succeeded. Not only had she found out whether Lila Eastbrook was marrying Marilyn’s son for his money, Faye had also discovered the secret at the Eastbrook family’s heart.
Family heart.
Her mood collapsed. Of the four members of the Hot Flash Club, Faye knew she was the most maternal—or she could just turn that thought around as the other three would and admit she was the most dependent on her maternal role!
Shirley, who’d been married and divorced three times, didn’t have any children, and her life’s dream of establishing a wellness spa had come true. She lived her dream every day.
Supercompetent Alice had managed to raise two sons as a single mother while holding down a high-powered executive position in a national insurance company. One of her grown sons was happily married, living in Texas. When Alan, her other son, showed up divorced and depressed, Alice had supported him in every way, but she hadn’t been obsessive with worry the way Faye would have been. And now Alice was
opposing
Alan’s happiness, all because of her stubborn ideas. Alice, whose son lived just as close to Alice as Faye’s daughter did to Faye,
Similar Books
