Citizen Insane

Chapter Four





WALDO SLAPPED A HAND OVER his mouth.

“What?” My right eye twitched once.

“I shouldn’t have said that.”

“But you did.” Twitch.

“Pretend you didn’t hear it.”

“I can’t.”

He checked his watch. “I put a flan in the oven before taking my walk. Must take it out. Be good, stay healthy and nurture the spirit within you.” Waldo touched my forehead lightly then turned and sprinted through the woods on the path that led back to his own house.

Colt watched him scurry away. “Never trust a man that makes flan.”

“I need a vacation—from life.” My cheek puckered, indicating the genesis of a cry. We trekked down my driveway toward the road.

“What was that all about?”

“Long story.” I stopped. “Is Howard having an affair? Tell me the truth.”

“Oh, geez.”

“I saw him last night in a restaurant getting all cozy with a blonde.”

“Shouldn’t you be asking him this question? Remember that talk we had about putting me in the middle? I’m just the roommate.”

We did make that agreement. It worked for more reasons than one. Like the fact that even after many, many years, Colt still carried a strongly lit torch for me. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Roz was waiting for us at the end of my driveway. “Is your mother still in the house?”

Colt looked frantically at the Mini Cooper he had parked behind. “That your mother’s car? I’m getting outa Dodge. Listen, I just came to tell you that I reserved an hour at the indoor range—Straight Shooters Gun Shop in Manassas. Day after tomorrow, one o’clock. Can you do that?” He was running backwards, jangling his keys.

“Chicken.”

“I admit it.” He flapped his arms to imitate a freaky foul. “One o’clock?”

“Sure.”

“Meet you there—call me if you need directions.” He was in his car and gone faster than Smokey chasing The Bandit.

“Does your mother scare everyone?” Roz asked.

“No. Only my friends.” The twitch was growing in intensity. I pressed a finger on the corner of my eye to stop it.

“You don’t look good. Is everything okay?”

“I’ve been better. This throbbing headache snuck up on me about two minutes ago and it feels like there’s a Mexican jumping bean under my eyelid.”

“Let me get the girls for you—I’ll send them up to the house. You go in and relax.

“My mother is in there. How can I relax with her around?”

Roz cut her eyes toward the top of the driveway. “Look, she’s leaving now.”

She was right. My mother was cramming into her spit-fire red Mini Cooper. Miraculously, she actually managed to fit her hulking frame into that tiny box. I suspected her knees knocked her chin every time she shifted gears.

“Good,” I agreed. “You’re right. I think I’ll go lie down. Thanks.”

“You’ll pay me back tonight by going to that PTA meeting,” Roz grinned. “I’ll pick you up at seven forty-five.”

My mother backed down the driveway and stopped to talk. Her window was rolled down and her sunroof opened wide. “Sweetheart. You look terrible.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but Howard called while you were out. He said to tell you he can’t stop by tonight. Something about working late.” She had that you’re-married-to-such-a-loser look on her face.

I sighed. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Can I give you the name and number of that single fella? He’d be a real catch.”

“Fella? No one says ‘fella’ anymore Mom.”

“You’re avoiding my question.”

With the nervous tick kicking in at full speed, I avoided her question real good by walking away, stomping into my house, flopping onto my lonely marital bed and letting out the bawl of the century.





Callie was a gem and cooked dinner for Amber and Bethany while I wallowed in my self-pity pit. By seven o’clock, I was on the phone with Roz trying to wheedle my way out of the PTA commitment. She’d have none of it, arguing that I should get out of the house, rather than sitting and moping about Howard. She also thought I’d get a good laugh or two from the dramatic antics and fireworks that would be unleashed in the wake of her announcement. Deciding she was probably more right than wrong, I gave Callie her babysitting instructions and stood waiting in the driveway at 6:45. Roz arrived promptly, as usual.

By 8:00 we were seated in the cushy green chairs of the Tulip Tree Elementary School library. Roz set up camp at the head of a long table and worked with exaggerated concentration on a stack of paperwork in front of her, reading, paperclipping, reading, paperclipping. I knew she was engaging herself in busy work, nervous to start the meeting and the deal with the uproar that would follow her bad news. I purposely sat several chairs away, just in case I needed to make a quick and discreet get-away.

“Is anyone sitting here?” asked a female voice.

I lifted my head to see Shashi Kapoor, the school crossing guard. Shashi was one of my favorite people at Tulip Tree. She could always be relied on for a truthful and un-edited account of happenings at the school—both in front of and behind the scenes. She had no kids of her own, but participated in school events with dedication and enthusiasm.

“Hi, Shashi. Sit down. I’d love to have you as my neighbor tonight.”

Beautifully adorned in a shimmery, banana yellow sari, Shashi’s bright white smile lit up the room and helped me to forget my worries.

“How are things weeth you, Barbara?” She always said my full name and enunciated every syllable.

“Fine, thanks.” I smiled.

“You never come to these meetings.”

“That’s true.”

“Roz, she brings you because she needs . . .” she looked for the right word, “moral support, eh?”

I wasn’t sure how much other people knew about the yearbook debacle, so I tried to play dumb. “No. Just thought it was time. Do my part and all of that.”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Barbara.” She smiled a wily smile. She leaned in and whispered in my ear. “I know all about thees yearbook problem. Thees meeting should be a wild one.” She smiled again and elbowed me. “There’s another problem there, eh?” She pointed at Michelle Alexander who sat across the table with her arms crossed and her mouth pinched tight. Granted, Michelle’s grim attitude wouldn’t win her Miss Congeniality, but I had no idea what Shashi was getting at. I gave her a questioning look.

“Just watch. Any second now.”

As if on cue, Bunny Bergen floated in. She smiled widely. “Hi, Barb! Shashi.” She was acting sane and happy, which was pretty bizarre considering the episode just hours earlier. When she saw Michelle though, her demeanor went from Jekyl to Hyde. The two women exchanged angry leers, and even though an empty chair stood next to Michelle, Bunny made a show of choosing another one farther away. She sat with exaggerated grace and shot an evil eye at Michelle.

Taken completely by surprise, I whispered to Shashi. “I thought those two were BFFs.”

“They were. Thees is a new development.”

“Do you know why?”

Shashi shrugged. “But I heard about Bunny’s leettle trip to your house today,” she said with a wink.

“News travels fast, doesn’t it? She has more than a few screws loose if you ask me—I’d stay away from her if I was Michelle too.” I was still bothered by Waldo’s comment about Bunny being obsessed with Howard. I wanted to ask Shashi if she knew anything, but was too embarrassed.

“Well, soon enough I’ll know what is wrong weeth these two. Like you say—news travels fast.”

Two more women arrived and took seats at the far end of the table, then Roz called the meeting to order. Mind numbing conversation and the reading of the last minutes took more time than I liked. I fought off several yawns.

Finally, Roz took a deep breath and I knew she had no choice but to bring up the dismal topic of the sabotaged yearbook. The color had drained from her face. She cleared her throat.

The room went silent.

She took a sip of water.

Poor Roz, I thought. It was like a death walk to the gallows.

With a jolting THWAP, the double doors of the library flew open and Peggy tumbled into the room, breaking the silence and the somber mood.

“Wait!” she yelled. “Don’t blame Roz! There is an answer. I’ve fixed everything!”

One of the women at the table asked the obvious question. “Fixed what? What needed fixing?”

“The yearbook!” smiled Peggy, very pleased with herself. She stood next to Roz now at the front of the long table. “I was thinking about it all afternoon, and it kept nagging at me. Nag, nag, nag. Then the lights clicked on—Little Kevin McIntyre!”

Roz frowned. “What?”

“Little Kevin McIntyre. Actually, he’s not little anymore, he’s probably, oh, six feet three or four, but we call him Little Kevin because there’s a Big Kevin and we don’t like to get them confused. Not that we could really get them confused, because Big Kevin died last year—undiagnosed sinus infection. Ate up his brain. It was really awful and unexpected. His wife kept telling him to go to the doctor, but he—”

Roz, sweating by now, jumped in. “Peggy! What does this have to do with the yearbook?”

“I told you. Little Kevin McIntyre. Don’t you pay attention?”

Roz’s jaw was locked and she spoke through gritted teeth. “WHO is Little Kevin McIntyre?”

“My cousin’s—actually my cousin twice removed on my mother’s side—my cousin Aurora’s son. He got married just a couple of months ago and when I was at his wedding, I met his wife’s sister, Judy, but everyone just calls her Jude. She’s was really nice and she has three boys all the same age as mine. Our yearbook company is Time Remembered, right?”

Roz nodded, her eyes bigger than two pasta bowls. “I thought so! Jude works for them. She’s an account executive.” Peggy handed her a piece of paper. “That’s her name and number at the office. Call her tomorrow and she’ll work with you to fix everything. She said you can still have your yearbooks delivered before the end of the school year, but you HAVE to call her tomorrow.”

Roz kissed the piece of paper, jumped from her chair and hugged Peggy so hard they both nearly toppled onto the floor. She didn’t let go for almost a whole minute. Meanwhile, the other parents sat stupefied, unsure of what had just transpired before them.

Michelle spoke up. “What just happened?” she asked.

Roz released Peggy from her embrace. “Look at the time! Meeting adjourned. See you all next month, and thank you for coming!”

The room cleared out slowly with people leaving in twos and threes whispering about the bizarre gathering. Eventually, Roz, Peggy and I found ourselves alone in the library.

“See,” I said. “You didn’t need me here at all. You just needed Peggy, who, by the way seems to have missed her book club.”

She waved a dismissive hand. “I was there.” She raised her Cappuccino Corner cup to prove she wasn’t lying. “But no one had read the book, so we set a new date and I scooted out to bring Roz the good news.” She was all smiles for about two seconds. Then her shoulders drooped and she turned to me with a sad face and I-hate-to-tell-you-this eyes.

“What?” I asked.

“My news for you isn’t so good.” She put a hand on my shoulder. “Howard was there.”

“At your book club?” Howard was of Italian heritage, but he wasn’t much of a reader. I was very confused.

“No. At Cappuccino Corner.” She paused. “With HER.”

“The same woman we saw him with at Fiorenza’s?”

Peggy nodded. “I’m sorry.”

I grabbed the table for support. Pictures of Howard and the gorgeous blonde flashed through my jealous mind like a bad slide show—the two of them sipping coffee, snuggling close, staring dreamily into each other’s eyes with revolting smiles on their love-infected faces. My living nightmare was interrupted by a janitor with a vacuum cleaner and a huge set of keys who shooed us out of the library telling us he had to lock up the school.

We walked to the front of the school, silent while my thoughts raced. He’d lied. He said he had to work late. He didn’t love me anymore. I remembered Frankie’s business card sitting on my counter at home and wondered how much money he would accept to knee-cap a traitorous spouse.

The uncomfortable lull in conversation was broken when we opened the doors and stepped out onto the sidewalk. A large parking lot spanned the entire front of the school building. At the far end, Michelle Alexander and Bunny Bergen faced-off under a street light.

“Who do you think you are?” Bunny screamed.

It was harder to hear Michelle. She was probably trying to maintain some decorum. I’m pretty sure she said, “What’s your problem?” Even though it sounded like “Where’s Cloris Leachman?”

“Like you don’t know!”

They were too far away to see facial expressions, but we could hear Bunny’s outrage just fine. Michelle was definitely on the defensive.

Bunny shoved Michelle in the chest with her index finger. “Keep your big yap shut!”

“First off,” retorted Michelle, louder now, “stop shoving me!”

“It’s bad enough that other people talk about me behind my back, but you’re supposed to be my best friend. How would you like it if I went around telling people that you and Lance were in marriage counseling?”

“You’re being paranoid, Bunny.”

“Watch what you say, Miss Prissy Alexander. If I get word of you mouthing off about me again, I’ll kill you. I swear I will.” Bunny stalked off to her Jag. I don’t know if she saw us, but Michelle did for sure. She made a movement like she might walk our way, but then turned and got into her SUV. She drove away behind Bunny, whose wheels were squealing when she peeled out.

There must have been at least one other spectator, because right after they left, the lights in a black sedan clicked on and it drove off as well.

Roz, Peggy and I stood in stunned silence, not yet ready to make a comment on the events. Finally, I couldn’t help myself. I had to ask the obvious question.

“Are all PTA meetings this titillating?”