off to movies, theater, parties, lectures, without the slightest self-consciousness. She’d had no trouble approaching strangers at these affairs, and now she realized how Jack’s existence in her life had accompanied her like a tag on her chest saying
chosen
. She could be independent precisely because she was attached.
The door slid open on the twentieth floor. They stepped out into an enormous ballroom. Chandeliers shimmered. A live band played light rock. Waves of laughter rose and fell as men in tuxes and women in drop-dead dresses floated effortlessly toward one another, animated and glossy with success. As Faye passed through the crowd toward the drinks table, she saw how their glances dismissed her. In this sea of life, they were mermaids, sting-rays, and sharks, while she was only a large, homely manatee, the sea’s cow.
She took a flute of champagne and a handful of cocktail napkins, then retreated to a corner to look around the room. When she spotted Eloise, she did a double take. Always before, chubby Eloise had been dressed for success in appropriate executive secretarial garb: suits and pantsuits in taupe, navy, and gray. Tonight a dazzling amber-and-gold caftan draped her full figure and set off her hair, newly dyed a shocking saffron and cut short and stiff as a whisk broom.
Eloise was surrounded. She would be all evening, so Faye began to squeeze her way through the crowd.
“Faye!” Eloise bent forward to hug her. “How nice of you to come!”
“You look amazing tonight,” Faye told her.
Eloise threw her head back and laughed. “Well, Faye, I feel amazing! I’m so excited about my plans.” Linking one arm through Faye’s, she pulled her close. “I was just getting ready to tell Marilyn and Shirley what I’m going to do.” With her free hand, she gestured, “Faye Vandermeer, meet Marilyn Becker and Shirley Gold. Faye’s husband Jack worked in Frank’s law firm. Marilyn’s son Teddy was my Jason’s best friend in high school.”
Faye nodded at Marilyn, a thin, scholarly looking woman with gray hair and glasses, clad in red tartan skirt, gray turtleneck, and burgundy plaid blazer.
“And,” Eloise continued, “Shirley has quite simply saved my life—she’s a masseuse and good witch.”
Faye thought Shirley, with her turbulent red tresses, glittering violet eye shadow, voluminous batik trousers, and multicolored scarves, looked more like a belly dancer, but she admired her audacity.
Eloise was bubbling over. “Now! Let me tell you my plans! I was so damned sad and lonely in that huge old house after Frank died, I thought I’d go mad. So I sold it, bought myself a cute little Winnebago, worked out a route with the best campsites on Internet maps, and next week I set off to drive all over the United States.”
Marilyn’s jaw dropped. “By yourself?”
“By myself! Well, I am taking Roger.” She paused wickedly, then added, “He’s my Rottweiler. He’s four years old and the biggest baby on the planet. He wouldn’t bite someone stealing his dinner, but he looks ferocious.”
Faye asked, “Won’t you be lonely?”
Eloise adjusted her gold tortoiseshell glasses as she gave Faye a reprimanding look. “You mean as lonely as I’ve been in that big old house all by myself? As lonely as I’ve been working in this corporation that’s just merged and the new people assume I’m just a fat old lady?”
“Assume,”
the academic interjected, “makes an ass of u and me.”
“Ha! Precisely!” Eloise chortled. “Look, I’ve been wanting to do this all my life. I’ve got stacks of books to read, and the addresses of a ton of old friends and acquaintances to visit, and I bet I’ll make a lot of new friends along the way. I’m going to lie on the grass looking up at the stars from every park I can find. I’m going to drive down every side road that catches my fancy and while I drive I’ll listen to opera—the entire opera, not just the arias—and country western
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