Page 65 of The Night the Lights Went Out
“Merilee!” Heather shouted, nearly hopping over to the door. She was wearing what only a model might consider workout gear—a marbled tank with a small bow in the back and matching capri pants with a flattering wide white stripe going down the sides, delicate ruching at the calves. It was in stark contrast to Merilee’s old UGA gym shorts and the ratty T-shirt she’d pulled from the ragbag when she realized she didn’t actually own workout gear.
“You look like a college coed,” Heather gushed. “You’ll need to share your secret on how you stay so youthful.” She pulled on Merilee’s arm. “Come on over and meet Laura and Lauren—they’re my Pilates trainers, so I’ve hired them tonight as a nice break from all the hard work we’ve been doing. They’re going to teach us some core-strengthening exercises we can use to look great in our evening gowns. And other reasons, too, but sometimes it’s easier to get started on something if you set short-term goals.”
Heather continued to speak as she led Merilee across the room. “They have their own teaching styles, but tonight I told them they need to have only one style—mine.” She grinned. “I love these ladies, and they’ve brought their business cards so that if anyone wants to continue, all they need to do is call. And first class is on me!”
“That’s very generous of you, Heather.”
Heather gave her a serious look. “This is what friendship is, Merilee. And I choose to be generous with my friends. Besides, everybody should take fitness very seriously. It’s not only important to our own minds and bodies, but it’s also important for our children—especially our daughters—to see us taking care of ourselves. Being fit isn’t an accident. And we certainly don’t want inactive, overweight children any more than we want to be inactive or overweight ourselves.”
Heather introduced Merilee to Laura and Lauren—she couldn’t remember which one was which. Laura—or was it Lauren?—was the tall, slender one with extraordinarily long arms and legs, and the other instructor, presumably Lauren, was shorter, with dark hair and a small yet efficient and well-toned body. They both made her nervous, like they could tell at a glance that she’d once been slim and fit and had let everything go. Not that she was overweight, but there were definitely lumps where there hadn’t been before, and if she had any muscles, they were hiding.
“No need to be nervous,” the taller one said. “We won’t push anybody to do anything they’re not ready for. It can actually be very relaxing—especially a mat class, which we’re doing here. If you come to the studio, you can see the other kinds of equipment we have for all levels.” She smiled warmly, making Merilee believe that she might actually enjoy exercising again.
“I love your lipstick,” the shorter one said. “It really brightens up your face. I always tell my clients that on days when they don’t feel like exercising to put on a pretty shade of lipstick, and it’s an instant pick-me-up.”
“Absolutely,” Heather agreed. She faced Merilee, her expression earnest. “What lipstick is that? I want to try it.”
Merilee dug in her purse and pulled out the tube of lipstick that she’d bought on a whim at Kroger. “It’s Revlon—nothing too exciting, I’m afraid. But the color does stay on for hours and I love the texture. Doesn’t dry out my lips.”
“Don’t you hate that?” Heather exclaimed. “There’s nothing worse than dry, cakey, so-called long-wearing lipstick that doesn’t last. And believe me, I’ve tried every single brand—from super expensive to drugstore—and I’m still searching. If this works, I will owe you big-time.” She took the tube from Merilee and glanced at the bottom. “Do you mind if I borrow this for a minute? I want to run to the ladies’ room and give it a swipe. I promise I’ll wipe off my germs when I’m done.” She winked, then speed walked herself in the direction of the restrooms.
Laura and Lauren were occupied speaking with two other women, leaving Merilee to glance around. She noticed several of the other committee members in the room, some of whom had already claimed a mat and most of whom were all dressed in coordinated workout outfits not dissimilar to Heather’s. Merilee self-consciously tugged on the hem of her shorts, feeling like Daisy Duke in a room full of Patty Dukes.
She spotted her carpool partner, Sharlene, behind a table near the far wall; little triangles of fabric covered the plastic folding table in front of her. Curious, she headed over to say hello.
“Hey, Sharlene. What’s all this?”
“Oh, didn’t I tell you? It’s my new business venture—Canine Couture. I’m making kerchiefs for dogs. I’ve always bought cute fabrics and made little kerchiefs for my own dogs, and then friends started asking me to make some for them, and then I just had this idea that maybe I could charge money and start a business.”
Merilee fingered through the fabrics, admiring the wide-ranging themes—school logos, autumn, Halloween, Christmas, florals, cartoon characters, and even—surprisingly—cats. “How’s it going?”
“Pretty well. I mean, not as much as if I were an interior designer or real estate agent, but not too shabby if I say so myself. I bought my ball gown using my own money. I’m thinking of expanding into a line of dog car seat covers, too.”
“Dog car seats?”
Sharlene nodded enthusiastically. “Yes. If you love your dog like family, you need to treat him like family and be concerned with his safety, just like a child’s. Coordinating your dog’s kerchief with his car seat cover will just make it more fun.”
“Good for you,” Merilee said, and because she felt bad walking away without making a purchase, she bought a UGA-themed kerchief for the dog she did not own.
Lindi Matthews arrived shortly afterward, and they each claimed a mat in the last row. Lindi wore running shorts and a tank top, which showed off her muscled legs and arms, but made Merilee feel better by complimenting her on how nicely shaped her legs were. Merilee had forgotten that, and even hated wearing clothes that showed off her legs. It had taken her years to figure out that it was probably because her legs were what her mother always told her were the only pretty thing about her.
They survived the class, and Merilee was feeling optimistic enough at the end to take a business card from each of the instructors and promise she’d call. As she headed toward the exit, Sharlene ran after her. “You forgot your kerchief,” she said, waving it in front of her.
“Oh, right. Thanks.” She said good-bye to the other mothers as they filed out into the parking lot. It was only when she got to her car and was fumbling in the dark for her car keys that she realized Heather hadn’t returned her lipstick. She looked up and saw Heather deep in conversation with one of the other tennis moms, whose first name Merilee thought might be Liz.
Not wanting to interrupt, she slid behind the wheel and shut her door, realizing that in the grand scheme of things, a tube of lipstick was a small way to begin to repay Heather for all of her kindnesses.
She waved as she drove out of the parking lot, and Heather waved back, a big grin on her face.
Twenty-three
SUGAR
“Joyful, joyful, we adore thee...” It was the closing hymn of the Sunday service and Sugar sang as loudly as she could. She’d been told often that she couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket and for many years had kept silent during the hymn-singing portion of the service. At least until the day she’d stood next to a tone-deaf child who belted out the words with such joy and abandon.
She’d learned two things that day: that singing in church had nothing to do with how good a singer you were, and that she was too old to care what she sounded like, anyway. So she belted out her favorite hymns and paid no attention at all to the heads turned in her direction.
Merilee sat next to her, also singing, and occasionally going off pitch, but most likely due to Sugar leading her astray. Merilee had a good voice, strong and clear and probably in tune if standing next to like-talented individuals. She was there because Sugar had needed a ride to church and Merilee had obliged.
