As Young As We Feel Read online

  "Somewhere down by the docks," he told them. "That way the fishermen could get in on it too."

  "So it really could be like a mini Pike's Place," Marley said. "Really smart!"

  "Victor was always smart," Janie told them.

  "Yeah, the academic geek who made good."

  Caroline couldn't stand the suspense any longer. "Do you have family here in Clifden?"

  "My parents moved to Florida quite some time ago."

  "No kids? Or wife?" Caroline persisted. She knew she was being obvious now, but she decided she didn't care. This guy was goodlooking, intelligent, probably well-off, and perhaps even available.

  "My wife and I split up about ten years ago. My fault mostly. I was an incurable workaholic back then, and she found someone with more time for her. But we have two grown sons. The oldest recently graduated from Northwestern. The younger one is in his second year at Lewis & Clark."

  "Was that part of your motivation to move back here?" Janie asked. "To be closer to your younger son?"

  He nodded. "To be honest, it was a pretty big part. I was pleased when Ben chose my alma mater for college. I thought it would be nice to be nearby. In fact he's stayed with me for most of the summer. He's turned out to be a pretty good surfer too."

  "He surfs in this cold water?" Caroline questioned.

  "He wears a full wet suit. He's even gotten me out there a few times. It's pretty invigorating."

  "I used to surf," Caroline told him. "But never in Oregon. And never in a wet suit."

  "You should give it a try."

  "Is there a place to rent boards?" she asked. Not that she was seriously interested. Not in surfing anyway.

  "We have a couple extra boards," Victor told her. "You could borrow one if you like."

  "What about the wet suit?"

  He sort of sized her up, then smiled. "We've got some of those, too, but they're designed for a more masculine figure."

  Caroline wondered how far she was willing to go with this. "I wonder if there's a place in town."

  "They have them at the Outdoorsman Shop," he told her.

  "And you'd really let me borrow a board?"

  He grinned. "Why not?"

  Caroline tried not to imagine herself wiped out with broken bones and a bad case of hypothermia. "Why not?" she said. "Especially in light of what happened to Cathy last night. Why not live life to the fullest while we still can, right?"

  He nodded. "My sentiments exactly."

  "So you're really going surfing?" Marley looked slightly skeptical. "This I'd like to see."

  "So would I." Janie wore a hard-to-read expression, and Caroline hoped it wasn't jealousy. She knew she had the capacity to bring that out in her female friends, and there was a time when she hadn't cared. But for some reason, she really didn't want to turn Janie, or any of the Lindas, against her.

  "Why don't you all come out to my house?" Victor offered. "You can all go surfing if you want."

  "Not me." Marley firmly shook her head. "I'm not crazy like some people. Besides, I have to go home tomorrow."

  "I'll pass too." Janie's eyes twinkled now. "Although I wouldn't mind watching Caroline take the plunge."

  "Hopefully I won't take the plunge too hard," Caroline told her.

  They continued to talk about surfing and living life to the fullest, and Caroline sensed some good-spirited rivalry going on between her and Janie. But Janie seemed to be up for it, like she was able to hold her own. In a way, that was kind of fun. However, it was slightly unnerving for Caroline to realize she was actually going head-tohead with a woman who had previously been one of the homeliest girls in high school. And they seemed to be competing over the guy who'd once been the class geek. Wasn't life interesting?

  Chapter 7

  ABBY

  "You're crying?" Paul said when he found Abby in the bedroom that evening. "Are you feeling sad about Cathy again?"

  Abby sniffed and shook her head. "No, I wish I could say that was it."

  "What then?"

  "I'm feeling sad for myself."

  "Why?" He sat down on the bed next to her, putting his arm around her shoulders. "Did I do something?"

  She considered this. To be honest, she wasn't too pleased with how friendly he'd been to Ron's new wife, Cleo, but then maybe that was just Abby being paranoid. "No," she told him. "It's not you."

  "Should I be relieved or worried?"

  "I'm just so sad to see my friends all leaving."

  "All your high-school friends?"

  "Not all of them. Good grief, I'm relieved to see most of them gone."

  "You mean the other Lindas?"

  She nodded and sniffed again.

  "It was odd how close you girls seemed to get." He stood and stretched his back. "But don't you think that had to do with Cathy's, uh, her sudden death?"

  "That was the catalyst," she admitted. "But there was something more. Something about being in your fifties and wondering about what's important in life. It makes me value friends more, and it reminds me that I don't have that many. Not really good ones anyway." She started crying again.

  "Do you think this could be a hormonal thing?"

  That made her really want to throw something at him, but she controlled herself. "No, I do not think it's hormonal-but thank you for asking!"

  "Well, you know how you're always telling me about menopause and-"

  "And you know what MEN-o-PAUSE really is?"

  "Huh?"

  "It means give me a break-a pause-from men. Time to take a `men a pause."'

  He chuckled but wisely backed away. "Fine. I'll give you a break. Some of the guys are getting together at Mike's Place to play pool."

  She peered curiously at him. "Mike's Place?" That musty old pool hall had never been one of Paul's favorite hangouts.

  "For old time's sake. You know, `Remember the good of days."'

  "Have fun," she said curtly. "I'm sure you'll enjoy the escape from hormone hell. And Mike's Place is probably just dripping in testosterone."

  He frowned. "Hope you feel better."

  Abby turned away from him, folding her arms across her chest like her granddaughter sometimes did. Then she listened as he left the room, left the house, and finally started up his Corvette. The car had been his fiftieth birthday present to himself a few years ago, and he babied it more than he'd ever babied any of his children or his wife. If the car got wet, although he rarely drove "her" in the rain, Paul would use a special chamois cloth to wipe it down. He probably kissed her good night, too. Abby had gotten him snob plates, with the initials MMLCC, which stood for My Mid-Life Crisis Car. She'd only driven the car once and that was with Paul sitting nervously in the passenger seat, acting as if Abby intentionally planned to total it.

  As she heard the Corvette engine roaring down their street, she felt guilty for pushing Paul away like that. Especially since he was trying, in his own way, to be understanding. But any more comments about hormones or menopause would only take them down a very bumpy road. Really, men could be so dense sometimes. Even if she was hormonal, which she was sure she wasn't, she was still genuinely bummed to realize that three of her best friends all lived so far away. In fact the circumstance reminded her, in a way, of her three daughters. She loved them all so much. They'd had so many good times together while growing up, and yet she rarely saw them anymore. Now she'd reunited with these three friends only to say good-bye again. It just seemed so unfair. It was as if God was punishing her for something. But what? What had she done to deserve this?

  Abby got up and looked at her bedraggled image in the mirror. With her flushed, tear-streaked cheeks and red, puffy eyes, she looked worse than usual. And old. Really, really old. Why was it that when she peered into the mirror these days, she didn't see Abby looking back? Instead she looked more like her mother, and sometimes it seemed that her mother looked more youthful than Abby. Why was that? Of course, her mother had interests. And friends. That probably kept her young.

  Abby sighed
as she looked around her picture-perfect bedroom: old fir floors, oriental carpets, antique furniture, and a gorgeous pastel quilt that she had made herself while the house was being built. Yes, she lived in a lovely world, one she had helped to create, but it just wasn't enough. And yes, she had her hobbies-quilting and gardening and cooking-to occupy her time, although the truth was she'd been doing less and less of these things the past couple of years. Those activities were satisfying on some levels, but it was not the same as talking and laughing and sharing good times with good friends. Domestic hobbies were not enough to fill a life. Suddenly she wondered why she had settled for so little.

  "Hello in the house!" called an all-too-familiar voice. For some reason Abby's mother had a problem with knocking before entering. Paul said she had boundary issues, but Abby suspected she was simply hoping to catch someone off guard, possibly doing something embarrassing or interesting. Like the time she'd walked in on Nicole and a boyfriend, which Abby had actually appreciated, since they had been getting carried away.

  "I'm in here, Mom," she called as she reached for a tissue to blow her nose.

  "What are you doing in here?" Mom asked as she came into the bedroom. As usual, she had on her baggy jeans topped with an oversized plaid flannel shirt, like she thought she was part of a rapper band.

  Abby just shrugged.

  "Where is everyone? Where's Paul? I thought you were having some big shindig here today."

  "We were. We did. They went home and Paul is at Mike's Place."

  "Mike's Place?" her mother looked confused. "Why?"

  "He's hanging with his old high-school buds-remembering the good old days."

  Her mom chuckled. "Oh, I get it." Now she peered curiously at Abby. "What's wrong with you? Have you been crying?"

  Abby wondered why it wasn't possible to have a good cry without half the world invading her bedroom to investigate. "As a matter of fact, yes."

  "But why?" Her mom's expression was one of genuine sympathy now-a sure way to get Abby to unload on her. Maybe that wasn't such a bad idea.

  "I think I'm depressed, Mom." Abby went to the pair of pale blue club chairs flanking the big window and sank into one. She pulled the pillow out from where it was wedged behind her and stuck it in her lap, then punched it.

  Her mom sat in the other chair and kicked off her Earth sandals, putting her feet up on the oversized ottoman between them. "What makes you think you're depressed?"

  So Abby told her about Cathy's unexpected death and how the Four Lindas were reunited and how great that had been. "And now it's over."

  Her mom sighed. "I heard about Cathy's death. Very sudden, and sad. I can see how that might have you feeling low."

  Abby nodded, swallowing against the lump that was still in her throat.

  "But I think it's wonderful that you've been spending time with the other Lindas." She laughed. "I always did like those girls. And it was so clever how you created your club like that. I felt badly when it disintegrated."

  "But now they're all leaving."

  "Yes. Life goes on."

  "But I don't even have a life, Mom!"

  She chuckled. "Of course you have a life. You have Paul and your girls and your home and your hobbies and friends and-"

  "No." Abby shook her head stubbornly. "I do not. It might look like I have those things, but it's just an illusion."

  "An illusion?" Her mom's faded brown eyes looked concerned. "What do you mean?"

  "I mean, I sort of have Paul. But Paul has, well, all kinds of friends and interests that don't necessarily include me. You know that. And the girls, well, they're off living their own lives. And Nicole is so far away."

  "But she'll be home by fall."

  "As for my hobbies, I don't really do them much anymore. Not really."

  "I noticed you've given up gardening since you moved into the new house. And I haven't seen any new quilts in the works. But you still love to cook."

  "And eat." Abby frowned. "All that does is pile on the pounds."

  "Well, you need to get out and walk." Mom nodded out to the wide-open beach. "And it's not that you're lacking a place to do that."

  "I know." Suddenly Abby felt like a spoiled brat. Really, she had so much. Why should she sit here complaining and feeling sorry for herself? Of course, that only made her feel worse. Quiet tears began streaking down her cheeks again.

  "Oh, Abby." Her mom looked sad. "I hate to see you like this."

  Abby blotted her nose and tears with her crumpled tissue. "Me, too."

  "I understand how you must feel. You've enjoyed your old friends, and now they're leaving. But do you know what I think that means?"

  "No." But Abby was sure she was about to find out. Some people thought her mom had a special gift-a way of knowing things-but Abby had never really appreciated it much. In fact it felt intrusive.

  "I think the old Lindas are supposed to be a reminder to you."

  "A reminder?"

  "That you need friends in your life."

  "Oh."

  "And I know that you've always been a homebody, and that your girls took a lot of your time. But I think you've neglected to build any really good friendships."

  "There was Michele." Abby got up and went for the tissue box. If she was going to talk about Michele, her old best friend, she would need a lot of Kleenex.

  "Yes, there was Michele."

  "She was always there for me, the whole time our kids were growing up. Whenever I needed to talk or vent or laugh or cry or do play dates or volunteer for PTA. She was always there with me."

  "I know." Mom nodded. "And you were a good friend to her too. Right down to the end."

  Michele had suffered a rare form of stomach cancer when she was only forty. She'd undergone treatments but eventually passed away almost ten years ago. The hole she'd left in Abby's life remained empty. "I still miss her."

  "I know you do, honey. We all do."

  "It's just never been easy for me. I mean, making new friends. Really good friends. I have a number of casual, sort-of friends. The kind you can chat with at the grocery store."

  "Maybe within that group of friends, there's someone who needs to have a close friend, Abby. Someone like you."

  Abby just shrugged. "I don't know."

  "But you do know that you need friends, don't you?"

  "I guess."

  "Because I think the Four Lindas getting back together, even if it was only briefly, was meant to be a wake-up call. Sometimes that's how God works."

  "Maybe."

  "I also know that as we get older, we need a strong support unit around us." Mom smiled. "I am so thankful for my friends."

  "But you've had them forever, Mom." Abby felt a rush of jealousy as she considered her mom's tight circle of friends. They were so close-closer than sisters-that sometimes Abby felt left out, almost as if her mother didn't need her. At least not the way Abby seemed to need her own daughters. It was frustrating. And yet she was glad for her mother, especially after Abby's father died. Without her supportive friends Mom would have suffered greatly.

  "Speaking of friends," her mom said, "that's why I dropped by. I'm having everyone over for lunch tomorrow, and I wanted to borrow your ice-cream maker. I got a bunch of lovely blackberries and I thought they'd be great with some homemade ice cream."

  Abby pushed herself up from her chair. "I just hope I can find it. Paul helped me put things away when we moved, and it's still a challenge to figure it all out."

  "You're welcome to join us tomorrow if you like," Mom offered as they hunted through the kitchen cabinets. "I'm sure the girls would love to see you."

  Abby knew her mom was just feeling sorry for her. She also knew, from experience, that she did not fit in with her mother's friends. They were nice enough, and interesting, too. But they were also old. Old enough to be Abby's mother. After spending time with them, she usually came away feeling even older than she normally felt. "No thanks, Mom." She spied the ice-cream maker in the back of the pa
ntry and pulled it out. "I was thinking I might try to get together with Caroline and Janie, if they're not too busy. Marley will be heading back to Seattle. But the other two are here for a few days. Janie's putting her folks' home on the market. And Caroline is helping her mom."

  "Poor Mrs. McCann." Mom shook her head sadly. "I saw her a few weeks ago, and she looked terrible."

  "Terrible?"

  "Like she's not in her right mind. She didn't even know me, and when I tried to explain who I was, she got frightened."

  "Caroline said she's got Alzheimer's or something." Abby dampened a paper towel and used it to remove the dust from the top of the ice-cream maker.

  "Well, I hope I never wind up like that. If I do, I think I shall simply go for a nice long swim in the ocean. Due west."

  "What?" Abby was shocked. "Are you kidding?"

  "It would be similar to what they do in Alaska. Old people go sit on an iceberg until they fall asleep. And that's the end of it."

  "Mother!" Abby frowned at her. "And you, a good churchgoing woman!"

  "Which is exactly why I have no fear of the afterlife. I know where I am going."

  "You'd take your own life?"

  "I merely said I'd take a swim in the ocean. A nice, long swim."

  "Oh, Mother, really!"

  "Well, think about it," she said as she picked up the ice-cream maker. "How would you like to be in Mrs. McCann's shoes? Confused and crazy, probably about to be locked up in some loony-bin nursing-care home, where someone changes your Depend diapers, and you're fed mushy peas and pudding and-"

  "Good grief, Mother, it sounds as if you've given this plenty of thought."

  Mom just laughed. "At my age you have to consider these things."

  "Well, don't think too hard about it."

  "I'm just saying, Abby." Mom headed for the door. "If I ever start losing it, you know, heading in that direction, I might seek another alternative."

  Abby just shook her head as she followed her mom outside. Why should this even surprise her? Really, her mother had always been a little offbeat about a lot of things. Paul said it came with the artistic temperament, but Abby always thought maybe she just wanted attention.

  "So if I hear about the Coast Guard dragging some waterlogged old lady out of the ocean some day, I should probably call and make sure it's not you?"