Distant Shores

At the college, she paused momentarily outside the closed classroom door, then went inside.

The faces were familiar this time, and welcoming. Mina, dressed in another floral polyester housedress, stood talking to Fran, who seemed to be listening intently. Cute little Joey, the waitress from the Pig-in-a-Blanket, was talking animatedly to Sarah. Kim stood back at the coffee table, fiddling with a pack of cigarettes.

At Elizabeth’s entrance, Joey smiled and made a beeline across the room.

“I didn’t think you’d come back,” Joey said, taking a bite of bagel, chewing it like a chipmunk.

Elizabeth was surprised that anyone had thought about her at all. “Why not?”

Joey looked pointedly at Elizabeth’s left hand. “Big diamond.”

Elizabeth glanced down at her wedding ring—a one-and-a-half-carat solitaire on a wide gold band. She didn’t know what to say.

“Most of us were dumped. A few, like me, landed on our heads. On concrete floors. From ten stories.” Joey grinned. “Fortunately, I bounce.”

“All women bounce,” Elizabeth answered, surprising herself. “It’s either bounce or splat, isn’t it? My husband has worked in about eight cities in the past fifteen years. Believe me, I’ve done my share of bouncing.”

“Wow. Military?”

“No.” She didn’t want to pinpoint his career. The last thing Elizabeth needed was for everyone to know she was married to Jackson Shore. It always sparked a round of how-lucky-you-are conversation, and that definitely wasn’t what she needed from these women. But she had to say something. “He has trouble staying focused on one thing.”

Joey giggled. “Well, he’s got a dick, doesn’t he? They’re all that way.”

At the front of the room, Sarah clapped her hands together. “Good evening, ladies. It’s great to see so many familiar faces.”

Joey grabbed Elizabeth’s arm and led her to side-by-side chairs, where they sat down.

Sarah was in the middle of her opening remarks when Mina popped to her feet. She was smiling so brightly her face was scrunched up like a dried apple. “I drove here!” Her lower lip, made fuller by pink lipstick, trembled. “I can go anywhere now.”

The applause was thunderous.

Elizabeth was surprised by how deeply those few words affected her. I can go anywhere now.

What a feeling that must be. How was it that she’d never imagined such a thing, though she’d been driving for years? Freedom had always been there for her, available every time she started the car. Available to any woman who dared to look up from the preplanned route and wonder, Where would that road take me?

When the applauding died down, the women returned to their seats. This time, because there were no “new” faces, Sarah led the group in a discussion that delved into previously expressed dreams.

Joey was the first to speak. “I took the kids to the dentist yesterday. I just love all that clean space.” She sighed. “The dental hygienist just bought a brand-new Volkswagen Bug. Can you believe it? I’d love to drive that car.”

“Have you ever thought about becoming a hygienist?” Sarah asked.

“Yeah, right. I barely got through high school. I think my grade point average was a negative number.” She tried to smile, then bent down and rifled through the huge diaper bag at her feet. “I did think about someone’s dreams this week, though. One of my customers left this on the table last week.” She pulled out a paintbrush and handed it to Elizabeth. “Is that, like, karma, or what?”

It was a Big K quality paintbrush, probably from a child’s paint-by-number set. A cheap little brush no self-respecting artist would ever use.

So, why did Elizabeth feel like crying?

“Thank you, Joey,” she said, taking the brush. When she touched it, her heart did a funny little flop.

“Tell us about your painting,” Sarah said.

Elizabeth took a deep breath. “In college, my professors said I had talent. I was accepted into several fine-arts graduate programs.”

“Did you go?” Joey asked, her voice hushed with awe.

“No. After the girls were born, there wasn’t time. Later, when Jamie started first grade, I tried to go back to my painting, but when I picked up a brush, nothing happened. I just sat there.” She looked around at the women’s faces. Every one of them understood. Sometimes you missed your chance.

And yet … when she looked down at the paintbrush in her hand, something happened. Nothing major, no Voice of God or anything, but something.

She remembered suddenly how it had felt to paint. It was like flying … soaring.

Suddenly, she couldn’t think about anything else.