Lauren nodded.
The three entered, and Arden quickly was blinded: The Rendezvous was pitch black, save for a few weak overhead lights and some candles flickering on the tables.
The Rendezvous had originally been built as a bar for local hunters and fishermen. The only windows in the place were narrow and sat high, like eyebrows, at the top of the restaurant. It became known as “The Hunter’s Mistress” because the “widowed wives” of the outdoorsmen couldn’t tell whether or not their husbands were inside unless they entered. And few had the nerve to do so.
Over time, the Rendezvous morphed from hunting bar to supper club, with jazz musicians from Chicago and Detroit heading north for summer getaways to jam together and test out new songs. A lot of the greats had played here—though they may not have remembered they did—including members of The Rat Pack.
Arden braced herself.
“I had drinks with Sinatra,” Lolly said loud enough to get the attention of a few diners. “We were quite a pair!”
Lolly told the same story every time they came to the Rendezvous.
“There’s our picture!”
Lolly pointed to an old framed photo on a wall over by the narrow bar that fronted the small stage where musicians still jammed.
“What a place! What a dame! Can’t wait for my next rendezvous at the Rendezvous!” Sinatra had written.
The supper club’s walls were crammed with mounted deer heads and big fish, glassy-eyed wildlife meant to be showcased in all their outdoor glory, but dressed over time by drunken customers in Santa hats, leis, and sunglasses. Autographed photos of musicians sat alongside the wildlife, the singers and piano players looking even more glassy-eyed than their counterparts.
The bar was stuffed with stools, the restaurant with small tables and mismatched chairs.
“We have your usual table reserved, Lolly,” an elderly waitress with sky-high hair said while chomping on a piece of gum.
“Thanks, Trudy,” Lolly said.
The trio followed Trudy’s ample rear, which bumped the tight tables—drinks wobbling unsteadily—as she moved quickly to the back of the restaurant.
RESERVED FOR LOLLY LINDSEY
Trudy picked up the yellowed sign from the table.
“You still got that old sign?” Lolly asked.
“This old thing will never go away,” Trudy hacked, grabbing her big behind, “like this old thing. Now, what’ll I get for you ladies?”
“Three mugs of your summer pale ale,” Lolly said. “Make ’em icy.”
“Back in a flash,” she sang.
Lolly had barely been seated when she looked up and said, “Well, well, well! If it isn’t Nurse Ratched.”
Arden turned and gasped. “Mother!”
“What?” Lolly said, mocking confusion.
“Your memory is a little bit better than any of us thought, isn’t it? Tonight’s dinner isn’t a coincidence at all, is it?”
Lolly shrugged like an innocent child.
Sitting a few tables over—downing an icy mug of beer and laughing with a big group—was Jake. He smiled, waved, and then began ambling toward their table, like a good-natured version of the stuffed black bear that sat near the bar with a perpetual grin on its face, a mug of beer in its paw, sunglasses on its snout, and a Scoops hat on its big head.
Arden dropped her head into her hands as Jake approached.
“Back of your head isn’t an appealing look, my dear,” Lolly said.
“What are you ladies doing here?”
“Well, we thought we’d have a quick drink and bite…”
Arden cut her mother off. “Don’t dig yourself a deeper hole, Mom. I know this is all a setup.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Jake said sweetly, as Trudy reappeared with beers. “I’m just glad you’re here. It’s such a fun place. Would you two mind if I stole Arden for a few minutes? I’d love to introduce her to some of my friends.”
Arden shot a glance at her mother and daughter, hoping they might intercede to save her. Neither was biting.
“I’m here with my family,” Arden said. “I promised my mom I’d have dinner with her.”
Lolly tapped her daughter dramatically and then gave her granddaughter a wink. “I think we’ll be okay, won’t we, Lauren?”
Lauren laughed, winked back, and then lifted her mug of beer to salute her mother. “We will, Grandma. Have fun, Mom!”
“We can get beer and perch together any old time, can’t we?” Lolly said, winking again, her fake eyelash softly landing like a butterfly on her cheek.
“I’m buying,” Jake said as incentive.
Arden stood hesitantly. Jake pulled out her chair, put a hand around the middle of her back, and escorted her to his table, where he began introducing her to his friends.
Lolly polished off half her beer in one big gulp, then held up two fingers to Trudy before she dashed away. “We’re gonna need them to watch this train wreck.”
Lauren smiled, in spite of herself.
“So what’s going on?” Lolly asked Lauren. “You’re definitely not yourself.”