The First Wives Club (9 page)

“Yeah. I finally finished a screenplay.”

They were to her door. She fumbled for her key, then fumbled at the lock. He took the key from her and quickly, smoothly, fitted it into the keyhole, easily twisting the door open. She hesitated for a moment, took a step in, and turned to him, about to say good-night.

But Aaron had his hands up, cupping her face. He was tilting her head up, he was kissing her! Oh, the softness of his mouth on hers. His smell, his taste. Annie wanted time to stop. Just let her melt into this moment, be lost in him.

He stopped kissing her. She opened her eyes to find him looking at her face.

“Same old Annie,” he said again, and adroitly closed the door behind them.

“You looked beautiful tonight.” He hugged her. Then he took her by the hand and led her to the bed. He reached around her, to the back of her neck, and began to unbutton the Gaultier. He pulled down the top of her dress, revealing her neck, her shoulders. He bent forward, laying his head there, breathing against her.

“God, Annie. Cynthia’s death did something to me. It shook me up.”

He paused.

“Time is so precious,” he said, his voice thick.

Annie reached up to his head, caressing his smooth hair. It felt so good, so right to have him pressed against her. It was all she wanted.

And for now, at least, she had it. Thank God, thank God.

He undressed her, quickly stripped off his own clothes, and lay beside her.

Then he made love to her. It was perfect, having him against her, holding her.

It had been so long. The pain of Cynthia’s death, of Sylvie, of losing Dr. Rosen, all floated away. There was only the warmth of his body, his arms, the comfort of his smell, his breath.

He moved inside her, and then, before he came, he gasped, “I love you.”

”Oh, Aaron, I love you, too.” Tears poured out of her eyes. Maybe the nightmare was over. Maybe they could be a family again. “I love you, too.”

Keeping busy was the answer. That was what Annie told herself, and of course, there were plenty of things to do instead of sitting around waiting for his call. After their night at the Ritz Aaron had said he couldn’t ride to the airport with her and the boys yesterday because he had to drive to New Hampshire on business. She hoped there hadn’t been an accident. Don’t be such a worrywart! she told herself. He just got caught up with business. You know how Aaron gets, she thought, and smiled.

Today she had planned to do some pruning and shaping of her bonsai trees. Two of them desperately needed her attention, they made her feel guilty. She knew most of her friends didn’t bother with plants or flowers, Elise had told her about a service that actually picked up your orchid plants after they had bloomed and didn’t return them until they were ready to bloom again. Somehow, Annie felt that was unfair.

Maybe even unwholesome, and certainly unnatural.

You had to pay for the loveliness of plants by nursing them through the unattractive, ungainly times. Her Protestant work ethic was amazingly strong for a girl who had grown up Catholic.

The doorman’s phone buzzed from the lobby, and Annie heard Sylvie running to answer it. “Hello. This is Sylvie Paradise.”

“Who is it, Sylvie?” Annie asked, joining her daughter in the foyer.

Sylvie’s face lit up. “Nestor said Chris is coming up to see me,” she squealed with delight.

Annie remembered Chris’s asking in Boston if he could take Sylvie out alone on her last day at home. From the moment Sylvie had come into their lives, Chris had bonded with her. Alex, so like Aaron, had been more emotionally removed from the baby, and when after a time Sylvie’s limitations became obvious, Alex distanced himself further. But Chris never stopped seeing Sylvie as a joy. And that joy was evident now as he helped Sylvie on with her cardigan.

“Where are you kids going today?” Annie asked, feeling Sylvie’s excitement.

“Should we tell her, kiddo, or keep it our little secret?” Chris asked Sylvie, tousling her hair.

Sylvie paused for a moment, struggling with her loyalties, but couldn’t keep the secret. ‘We’re going to do three things,” she said, holding up the corresponding number of fingers. “We’re going to the zoo to see the black-and-white birds that walk funny.”

“That’s right, the penguins,” Chris encouraged. ‘Then what?”

Sylvie thought for a moment, then said, “Then Chris is going to let me row a boat.”

”And what else, kiddo?”

”And then …” She hesitated while watching Chris’s face intently, trying to remember. Chris smiled and waited patiently.

Sylvie remembered, “Lunch. I’m going to eat pasghetti for lunch.”

Sylvie beamed, proud of her accomplishment.

Chris smiled broadly. “Hey, right. Spaghetti. Now tell Mom-Pom good-bye till later,” Chris urged, his hand on the door handle. Annie kissed them both, her eyes meeting Chris’s. “You have a good day,” Chris said. “And thanks, Mom.”

Then they were gone.

Annie closed the apartment door and returned to the conservatory and her task, feeling suddenly unneeded. Keep busy, she told herself as she considered the shape of the tree on the table, preparing herself mentally before beginning the pruning.

Later that morning she would have her regular exercise class with Roy and Bernie at their gym. She was meeting Brenda there. At last Brenda had agreed to start exercising. Then they’d lunch. In the late afternoon she had an Italian class, and then there was the dangerous hour when she used to see Dr. Rosen at half past five. She missed her therapist, but she’d get through it.

She’d get through whatever she had to. Because soon Aaron would call.

She looked out over the landscaped terrace to the playground where she used to take Sylvie, until the other children became too cruel.

Please, God, let this new place be a true home for her, Annie prayed.

She looked to the east, beyond the East River, and beyond that the Triborough and Whitestone bridges. She could see a plane thrusting into the air from its takeoff at LaGuardia, and a train crossing the railroad trestle from Queens, a ship passing on its way to the harbor, and cars moving along the FDR Drive. Yet up here, suspended above the city’s movement and frenzy, there was perfect silence and perfect calm.

Sometimes Annie felt that this was her perfect place as well. But today, as she anticipated Aaron’s call, was not one of those times.

Everything seemed flat—except for those champagne bubbles of anticipation, arising from somewhere deep inside her. Aaron, each one said. Aaron. Aaron.

Without Aaron, her life seemed to stretch in front of her, an empty calendar.

Fill up the month, fill up the week, fill up the day. Fill up the next five minutes. There was nothing to look forward to, nothing to feel excited about.

She would miss Pangor, she would miss Sylvie, she missed her sons. She missed Dr. Rosen. She missed Aaron. And she needed Aaron. She longed to hold him.

For a moment, Annie felt guilty, thinking how hopeless Cynthia must have felt.

I should be sorrier Cynthia is dead. But how sorry should I be? she thought.

She didn’t want the sadness of Cynthia’s death and Sylvie’s leaving to intrude on her newfound hope. I am among the living, Annie thought, and hope keeps me going. Aaron will call and I hope we’ll be together.

But poor Cynthia will always be in the ground alone. What had Cynthia said in the hospital that awful day?

Her mother never loved her and, like a curse, no one else seemed to have either.

Please, God, let Aaron love me, Annie prayed, and then went into the bedroom to dress for her exercise class.

Why did I agree to this? Brenda thought as she rode up in the elevator with Annie to the aerobics class in the Carnegie Hall Rehearsal Building. But she knew the answer. She looked like shit and she felt like shit. Even Angela had mentioned it. Soon, they’d have Field Day at Tony’s fancy prep school, and she didn’t want to embarrass the kid.

She winced as she remembered the kids at her own school teasing her about her father. She had to do something. Also, she was curious about the exercise styles of the rich and famous. Brenda knew that Bernie and Roy were the most exclusive personal trainers in town. But if they were anything like Siegfried and Roy, she didn’t want to be one of their trainees.

They entered a room that reminded Brenda of the Julia Richman high school gym but without the smell. She followed Annie to the lockers.

“Can’t I just have periodontal surgery today? It hurts less and it’s cheaper,” Brenda begged, not leaving but not undressing either. Annie ignored Brenda’s protest.

“You have five minutes. Get to it, Brenda. Anyhow, it’s my treat.

And you’ll feel better after it, I promise.” Annie smiled.

She certainly is cheerful today, Brenda thought resentfully. Next to her, Annie smoothly stripped out of her skirt and sweater, exposing her thin, flat little body. Brenda watched as Annie put her skirt and sweater on a hanger and reached into her gym bag for her spandex workout suit. Brenda still didn’t move. “Get going, Brenda, we don’t have all day. And Bernie and Roy don’t like it when we’re late.” For a moment, Brenda hated the bitch.

“Fuck em. I have to call in the Army Corps of Engineers to help me put on my panty hose, and you want me to take an exercise class where I’m expected to raise my legs higher than ankle height?” Brenda flashed on the image of dancing hippos in Fantasia, then she shrugged. Oh, well, what the hell, she thought, and began to undress.

”You’ll see, Brenda, you’re going to love it. You’ll become positively addicted. If I miss even a single class, I feel guilty.

You know, Catholic guilt?”

Why is she being so fuckin’ cheery? Brenda wondered. She seems distracted, not all here. “Listen,” Brenda said. “I’m half Catholic, half Jewish, and as I see it, Jews own guilt. Catholics only rent.”

“Well, if I miss more than a couple of classes, I can’t keep up, and then I feel humiliated.”

“Hey, humiliation is Bernie and Roy’s business, and it looks like business is good.”

With as little enthusiasm as possible, Brenda changed into the exercise clothes she’d bought at the Forgotten Woman boutique. Turning from the locker, she looked at herself in the cruel full-length mirror and understood how the store got its name. She followed Annie into the workout room. She immediately recognized two of the other three women there. One was the leading soap opera star of the previous year, the one Luke almost married, and the other was Lally Snow, the old society bitch. She and Duarto were working with Lally on the AIDS benefit being held next weekend. She hated the old snake. The youngish girl was Khymer Mallison, some nouveau riche kid who wanted to break into New York society. Duarto was doing her new town house.

“Annie,” she hissed, “look who’s here. I can’t do this.” Annie shrugged. Just then Melanie Kemp ran in, perfectly togged out in matching leotards, leg warmers, and sweatband. Melanie was one of those society women who decorated, first their husbands’ houses, then their friends’. Duarto hated them.

Then a door opened at the other end of the room and Bernie and Roy came bouncing in. They were both muscular and had shortcropped blond hair.

Jesus Christ, Brenda thought, they’re twins. Identical fucking twins.

Athletic.

Military. And cheerful. Ridiculously fucking cheerful.

“Okay, girls, let’s dance to the music.” Roy, or maybe it was Bernie, started it up. As Marvin Gaye’s “Sexual Healing” began to blare out of the speakers, Bernie, or maybe it was Roy, began the choreographed exercise steps. His twin moved among them, adjusting stance, correcting posture.

“And I would like to welcome the latest member to our group, Brenda.

Brenda, you know Khymer, Melanie, Barbara, Lally, and Annie. Now don’t be shy, just follow the leader.” Each of the women stretched into a warm-up split.

Through her breathlessness, Brenda muttered to herself, “I’m not a fuckin’ Rockette, Slim. Give me a break.” Brenda saw Annie stifle a laugh and try to concentrate on her workout. Why was that woman laughing? The tempo of the taped music began to increase. Left kick, right kick, step, step, step, step.

Left kick, right kick, step, step, step, step. Brenda puffed as she struggled to keep up with them.

Bernie came over to her. “I know you can kick higher than that, Brenda,” he said with a professional smile.

“Only to crotch level,” she warned him, baring her teeth.

In only minutes Brenda had been pushed beyond her limit. Christ, isn’t this the shit that killed Bob Fosse? she thought. Her face was glistening with sweat, and her forehead was knitted tightly in a scowl.

But she saw that the old viper Lally kept up. Jesus, she has to be twice my age, even if she’s half my weight, Brenda thought. She was mortified, and she sure as hell wouldn’t quit in front of Lally. For forty murderous, agonizing minutes she kept it up.

At last the class came to an end.

The twins came over to her for consultation. Well, they could fuck that shit, Brenda thought as she collapsed onto the floor, gasping for breath.

“Are you premenstrual, by any chance?”’ Roy asked, peering down at the fat, wet heap on the floor.

“Yeah, and I’ve got a bad case of PMS,” Brenda growled. “It makes me cranky and erratic, so for two days a month, I behave the way men always do. Care for some sumo wrestling?” The two backed off.

Dragging herself off the floor, Brenda was joined by Annie, and they made their way to the changing room and showers. What does Annie have to be so fucking happy about? Brenda wondered again.

Puffing slightly, Annie said, “This really picks me up… makes me feel alive … and you have to admit, they’re very attractive. Did they turn you on, Brenda?”

That, too, is unlike Annie, Brenda thought. She never talks about sex.

What’s with her? “Marat and Sade? You gotta be kidding!” Brenda exclaimed. “I feel like a James Bond martini, shaken, not stirred.”

Lally Snow, thin as she was, didn’t strip before the others. She went into one of the curtained booths and emerged immaculately dressed, if just a tiny bit overdone. She was the kind of woman, Brenda thought, who had never heard the old rule—get dressed, put on your jewelry, then take one piece off. Now, glittering, she waltzed over to the two friends.