As Young As We Feel Read online

  "That's how we all feel," Marley told him.

  "It puts a real damper on this reunion," Caroline said.

  "I'd like to do something at the barbecue today," Abby said slowly. "Something to remember her by. I'm not even sure what exactly. But I do hope you'll come, Victor."

  "Yes," Caroline urged him. "Do it for Cathy."

  He nodded. "All right, I will."

  Abby was already writing down her address on a napkin. "Here, just in case you don't have your reunion packet. It begins at two."

  He tipped his head to them. "Nice seeing you ladies. Hopefully I'll see you again later." Then he left.

  "Hasn't he grown up into a great-looking man?" Caroline said as soon as he was out the door. "Although I honestly don't remember him from school."

  "I'm sure you probably never noticed him," Janie said as she sat down and picked up a small paper menu. "Did you girls order yet?"

  "No, we were waiting for you," Marley said.

  "When we're ready, we order at the counter," Abby explained. "So were you and Victor good friends in school, Janie?"

  Janie looked up and sort of laughed. "Not exactly. I mean, we spoke occasionally. And he was on the debate team. As I recall, he was very smart."

  "What does he do now?" Caroline asked.

  "I have no idea," Janie admitted. "We didn't really get that far."

  "Hopefully he'll come to the barbecue." Caroline chuckled. "And then we can grill him good."

  They all laughed as they went up front to place their orders. But as she waited for the others, Janie felt caught off guard by a slight twinge of envy toward Caroline. The emotion seemed ridiculous and unfounded, but it was there all the same. As much as Janie hated to admit it, her jealousy was related to Victor. So silly. As juvenile as grade school. In the two years since Phil had died, Janie had not so much as looked at a guy-not once. She didn't plan to start now.

  "And for you?" asked the young man behind the counter.

  Janie ordered a skinny latte and whole-wheat bagel, plain, and was about to pay when Abby stepped up. "Is that all you're having?" she demanded. "Good grief, Janie, that wouldn't keep a bird alive."

  "I'm not that hungry," Janie told her. "Besides I don't usually eat breakfast."

  "Don't eat breakfast?" Caroline frowned. "Don't you know that's terrible for your metabolism?"

  "Doesn't look like it's hurt anything as far as weight goes," Abby said a bit sheepishly. "But it's just not healthy, Janie. You really need to start your morning with a good breakfast-especially as you get older."

  "She's right," Marley agreed. "I always like to start my day with protein."

  "I'll make Janie eat some of my eggs," Abby said in a sneaky tone.

  Janie laughed as she dropped a dollar in the tip jar. "I feel like I'm having breakfast with my mothers."

  "Thanks a lot," Abby told her. "But I'm afraid mothering comes naturally to me. I have three daughters and they never listen to me."

  Janie patted Abby on the back. "Thanks, I appreciate that you care." It actually was rather sweet to be mothered, especially since Janie's own mother had never seemed overly concerned about Janie's health one way or another. This had always seemed odd to Janie, considering how her mom had been obsessed with health and medicine in general. Except Mom had always fretted over her own health, not the health of others. From as early as Janie could remember, her mother thought she was dying. She'd had Janie late in life and attributed many of her unusual maladies to that fact. When she claimed to have things like malaria and leprosy, though, Janie and her father started to wonder. They did what they could to convince Mom otherwise, but eventually Janie began to understand that her mother simply suffered from a bad case of hypochondria. Ironically she lived to be eighty-seven.

  As the four of them ate breakfast together, they joked and reminisced about grade school. "Remember when Bradley Moore hid a snake in Mrs. Denfeld's desk?" Marley was laughing so hard she could barely speak. "And the poor woman was so frightened she actually wet herself?"

  "I feel sorry for her now that I'm in my fifties," Abby admitted. "I can see how something like that could happen."

  "Or how about when Mr. Peters suspended the four of us just because we said we'd rather have recess than school?" Caroline reminded them. "My parents were furious."

  "Caroline," said Abby, "do you remember when Allen Reynolds held you down and kissed you?"

  Caroline made a face. "And that was before we were boy crazy. I was so upset, I washed and washed my mouth, afraid that I'd have boy germs forever." She sighed. "I wonder where Allen is now."

  Abby laughed. "Last time I saw him, he was bald and wearing suspenders."

  "Suspenders?" Caroline made a face. "Seriously?"

  "Oh yeah." Abby nodded. "A lot of the good-old boys in these parts favor suspenders."

  "Now that's something you don't see in Manhattan," mused Janie. She leaned back and sipped her coffee, listening as the others recalled funny stories she could barely remember. It felt strangely familiar to be with these three friends from her past, and comforting, too. And yet it was all so unexpected.

  After breakfast they headed to the beach. Parking their cars at the jetty, they all got out, took off their shoes, and proceeded to walk along the water's edge. After a while they paired off. Marley and Janie walked in front, with Abby and Caroline following.

  "I know you live in Seattle," Janie said to Marley, "but I'm not sure what you do."

  "I work in a friend's art gallery."

  "Oh, that sounds fun."

  "I suppose, but I'd rather be doing my own art full time."

  "So you still do art?"

  "When I get the chance."

  "Why don't you do it full-time?"

  Marley laughed. "Because I'd rather be selling someone else's art than living as a starving artist."

  "Right. So what does your husband do?"

  "My exhusband is a commercial pilot."

  "Oh, I didn't know you were divorced."

  "It's only been a few years. The last reunion I was still with him."

  "Has that been hard?"

  "Financially. But in every other way, it's been wonderful. I wish we would've divorced ages ago."

  "Really?"

  Marley paused to pick up a shell, dropping it into her cardigan pocket. "Absolutely. It was a rotten marriage."

  "How so?"

  Marley sighed. "Well, for starters, John was one of those pilots who felt that being away from home entitled him to sleep with other women. You know, a woman in every port. Airport, that is."

  Janie chuckled. "That must've been hard."

  She nodded. "But that wasn't the worst of it. He was also emotionally abusive. I mean, I could never do anything right as far as that man was concerned, whether it was having his uniform looking picture-perfect, or dinner, or my hair. Everything was always wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong." She kicked the sand with her bare toe and swore.

  "That couldn't have been fun."

  "Nope. The main reason I stuck it out for so long was for our son. I told myself that when Ashton graduated high school, I'd leave John."

  "How old is Ashton?"

  "Almost thirty." Marley shrugged. "Yeah. I stayed with John a little longer than I'd planned. The truth was, I was scared to go out on my own. I'd never really had a career. My excuse was that I was an artist, except I wasn't doing much art. My marriage sort of sucked the life out of me. It's like I never had the emotional energy to do much of anything."

  "But you do now?"

  "Isn't life funny? Now I have the right kind of energy and a desire to do art. Unfortunately I don't have the time. I put in about fifty hours a week at the gallery."

  "Oh."

  "But at least I'm happier." Marley turned to Janie. "How about you? What's your story? I know your husband died a couple of years ago, but that's about all I know. Do you have kids?"

  "Yes. Two. A girl and boy. Twenty-two and twenty, respectively."

  "Respectively,
" Marley imitated, then laughed.

  "I know. Sometimes I sound just like an attorney." Janie took in a deep breath of fresh sea air. "My son, Matthew, is starting his junior year at Princeton."

  "Mmm. Princeton. Impressive."

  "It was Phil's alma mater. I went to Stanford. Anyway, Lisa is my oldest and she's had, well, some challenges. We're a little out of touch at the moment."

  "Out of touch?"

  Janie stopped and faced Marley. "I don't normally tell people this. It's not easy to say. Lisa has a drug problem. She's been in treatment twice, but it just doesn't seem to stick. I haven't spoken to her since June." She felt tears in her eyes and wondered why she'd just confessed this dark secret to a woman she barely knew. Even some of her closest coworkers were unaware of what was going on with Lisa.

  To Janie's surprise, Marley hugged her. "I'm so sorry," she said quietly. "That has to be really hard."

  Janie nodded as the two of them stepped apart. "It is."

  "Well, since you told me your secret, I'll tell mine." Marley grinned uncomfortably. "My son, Ashton, is gay."

  "Oh." Janie just nodded and the two of them continued to walk.

  "I know, you're probably wondering why that would be a big deal to a free spirit like me. Aren't artists supposed to be loose and liberal about these things? The answer is yes, as long as it's someone else's kids. When it's your own kid, well, that takes some getting used to. Fortunately I'm mostly over it now. But the idea of never having grandchildren gets to me sometimes."

  "But he can still have-"

  "He doesn't want to."

  "Oh. Well." Janie sighed. "I guess we can't live our children's lives, can we?"

  "No." Marley shook her head. "I have enough difficulty just living my own."

  "I hear you." It was true. Janie's life had been nothing but difficult for nearly five years. First it was Phil's diagnosis of colon cancer. Then the treatments. Then Lisa's drug addiction, which she tried to hide from Phil. Then his death shortly after Matthew graduated high school. And most recently her parents' deaths. Sometimes she wondered how much more she could take-she felt like she was hanging on by a frayed thread. If not for her children, she might've given up already.

  Chapter 5

  MARLEY

  "Your home is absolutely beautiful," Marley told Abby as she welcomed the three of them into her new home. Marley took in the spacious and well-appointed room, with its hardwood floors, enormous stone fireplace, massive built-in shelves, and furnishings that looked straight out of Architectural Digest. Marley noticed the wall of floor-to-ceiling wood-framed windows that overlooked the ocean. Everything about this place really was stunning. Perfection both outside and in. And the view was killer.

  As much as the emotion irked her, Marley felt seriously jealous. And she wondered why some people seemed to have all the luck. Abby had married a great guy and now lived in this fantastic house. In comparison Marley's life seemed like a dismal failure. A big, fat disappointment.

  "Your view is gorgeous," Janie was telling Abby.

  Marley nodded, determined not to fall victim to these waves of envy. "If I lived here, I'd never get anything done, because I'd be glued to the windows all day long."

  "If I lived here, I'd get a dog," Caroline said.

  Abby laughed. "Yes, I've considered that. But Paul's not fond of indoor pets, and I can't see keeping a dog outside during the winter. It's too wet and cold here."

  It had been Marley's idea that they should come early to help with the barbecue, but it seemed Abby had everything under control. "I wanted to do all of the cooking myself," she told them, "but Paul insisted we get some help. Even so, I went ahead and made a few things. But I'll probably just leave them in the freezer for another day." She waved at the trays of food lining her counters and sighed. "Already this looks like far too much."

  "This is a delightful kitchen," Marley told Abby. This room, too, looked like it might've been clipped out of a magazine. It wasn't necessarily Marley's style-if Marley really had a style; she wasn't so sure-but the kitchen's warm colors were lovely just the same. And it was far nicer than Marley's tiny galley kitchen, not that she ever cooked.

  "I like that it doesn't have that stark feeling of some of the new homes," Caroline told Abby. "You know, the ones that are all granite and stainless steel."

  Abby smiled. "I was going for French country." She pointed to a big ceramic rooster perched in a corner of the travertine countertop. "Paul said if I brought one more chicken in here, he was going to start crowing."

  "Well, I think it's charming," Marley told her.

  "And it suits you," Janie added. "Sweet and homey."

  "Would you like to see the rest of the house?" Abby offered. Soon she was giving them the grand tour. "We wanted it to feel roomy and comfortable but not too big," she said as they paused in the large master suite, which also looked out over the ocean. "It's just a little over twenty-four hundred square feet."

  Janie laughed. "That sounds big to me. My apartment is less than a thousand, although that's considered roomy by some New York standards."

  "And my condo's less than eight hundred square feet," Caroline said.

  "I can beat you all," Marley told them. "My studio apartment is only six hundred eighty square feet."

  "Isn't it funny how different our lives are from each other's? And so far apart geographically," mused Abby. "And yet we all started out in the same place."

  "With the same name," added Marley, making the others laugh.

  "Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to move back to Clifden," Janie mused as they stood in the spacious master bathroom.

  "Seriously?" Abby looked surprised.

  "Well, I still have my parents' home. I need to decide what to do with it."

  "Why not keep it for a vacation getaway?" Marley ran her hand over the slate tile that bordered the edge of the oversized tub. She didn't even have a tub in her apartment.

  "I've considered that. The truth is, I'm not sure I can afford to keep it with Matthew at Princeton. Plus I'm still paying medical bills that Phil's insurance didn't cover. Well, it might be more sensible to just sell it."

  Abby continued the tour, finally stopping off at the den, where a bartender was manning the bar. "Why don't we get something to drink?" she suggested. "Then we can sit out on the deck and relax until the other guests arrive. That is, if they arrive." She looked at her watch. "I expect they'll be finishing up that golf tournament soon."

  They got their drinks and went out to soak up some sun.

  "This is so beautiful." Marley leaned back into the padded lounge chair. She felt like Pollyanna with all her praise and positive remarks, but it seemed the only way to squelch the screaming, jealous demon inside of her. "What a glorious day."

  "It's what Paul calls a real-estate day," Abby told them. "He says you could sell anything to anyone on a day like this."

  "You could sell me," Marley admitted. "In fact I was strolling through town after our beach walk, and I started falling in love with Clifden all over again. I love the smallness and the charm, the friendly shopkeepers. Well, it's a lot different than Seattle."

  "And Manhattan," added Janie.

  "And LA." Caroline sighed.

  "Well, don't let this weather trick you," Abby reminded them. "You've all lived here before, so you know that it can be windy, stormy, foggy. Sometimes all in one day!"

  "Yes." Caroline nodded. "Like the old ifyou don't like the weather now, just wait. I never appreciated that until I lived in Southern California for a while."

  "Or how about the old joke about the coast wind?" Marley said. "How do you know when the wind stops blowing on the beach?"

  "Everyone falls down," Janie finished for her.

  "Or what about, `Oregonians don't tan, they rust,"' Abby said.

  "Speaking of tanning ..." Janie lowered her sunglasses and pointed to Caroline. "You must not be too worried about skin cancer with that tan you've got."

  Caroline shrugged
. "Hey, once you've survived breast cancer, you figure, what's the big deal?"

  The other three got quiet.

  "You had breast cancer?" asked Marley.

  "It's been more than five years," Caroline said cheerfully.

  "Congratulations." Abby lifted her hand to give her a high five.

  "Thanks." Caroline put her hands beneath her boobs now, giving them a push to reveal a fair amount of cleavage. "And I did get some enhancements out of the deal. These girls are both the result of implants."

  "Nice." Marley nodded. "I could use a pair of those myself."

  "Well, even though you're a survivor, you should be careful with the sun." Abby held out a bottle of sunscreen. "Anyone need to lather up?"

  "Hey, if I get skin cancer, it'll be from the overexposure I had as a kid," Caroline told them. "Do you guys remember that time we floated out with the tide on our air mattresses?"

  "Oh, don't remind me." Janie shook her head. "I was grounded for a month after that."

  "It wasn't like we did it intentionally." Marley took a sip of her margarita. "We were just having fun."

  "Yeah," agreed Caroline. "And girls just want to have fun."

  "But it wasn't much fun getting our backs burnt to a crisp." Abby winced. "My mother almost took me to the hospital, I was in so much pain."

  "I remember my mom put towels soaked in milk on my back," Marley told them. "It actually helped, although I smelled like a cheese factory for a few days."

  They all laughed.

  Abby set her lemonade down and turned to look at the other three. "You know, I can't remember when I've had so much fun with girlfriends."

  "I was actually feeling a little guilty," Janie told them. "I mean, when I think about Cathy Gardener and how we should be in

  mourning today."

  Caroline slapped her forehead. "Oh, I'd almost completely forgotten."

  "I know what you mean," admitted Marley. "Last night seems kind of removed from this beautiful, sunny day. It's hard to feel too sad."

  "I suppose I've gotten good at it." Janie leaned over to rub sunscreen onto her shins. "It feels like I've been grieving for years now. I guess it just comes naturally to me."