It was a warm Wednesday afternoon in March. The heavy morning rains had finally cleared and the sun blazed as Joan pulled her little Prius into the Country Club parking lot to pick up Dottie from bridge. Dropping her key into the center console and hitting the button to roll the window down, she turned off the car and left it right out front. She knew it would be safe and that no one would say anything. She’d only be there for a few minutes, she told herself as she walked in to let Dottie know she had arrived.
Walking past a couple of golfers, she nodded to the African-American woman dusting the front foyer table that held a giant flower arrangement. Petals fell all around the lace doily under the large Waterford vase. A painting of Beth Daniels smiled down at her as she just missed the bottom of the winding staircase that covered the entrance to the bridge room.
Inside, six elderly women gathered around one of the bridge tables as two more grabbed their things from the side sofas and prepared to leave. The six were deeply engrossed in a final round. Cards were set face down in rows in front of each woman.
“I’m here.” Joan said.
“I’ll be with you in a minute.” Dottie said dismissively, turning her attention back to the cards. The other women smiled but none spoke. They each took turns turning over their cards with great anticipation.
“A pair of fours Dottie. You’re in the lead.”
Dottie smiled. “Of course,” she puffed. “I told you I was feeling lucky today.” They all laughed.
Across the table, another woman with bright reddish pink lipstick widened her eyes as she flipped her cards slowly.
“A pair of sevens! Ha! I win.” At this they all giggled. Apparently this woman never wins and it was quite a stir.
“Oh well.” Dottie said, reaching into her little bag and tossing sixty cents into the pot. “Beginners luck.”
“Wait, Dottie” her friend exclaimed. “You’ve already put your money in the pot. Here take this back.”
“No I didn’t.”
“Yes, honey. You did. Remember, I gave you change for a dollar.”
At this Dottie looked at her with suspicion. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. I’m quite sure.”
“She’s right Dottie” another woman chimed in. I put in twenty and you put in a dollar so I owe you forty cents that I’ll bring next week. At this Dottie froze, trying desperately to arrange the numbers in her mind. Twenty, a dollar, forty, it was all so confusing. You could see the pain in her face as she tried to process so much information at once.
“Why was it so confusing? Why are they looking at me? Why don’t I remember?”
Her friends all stared at her as she stood caught in a loop of confusion. After several moments, Dottie looked at them quite sternly and said “I think you’re all telling tales, now.”
“No, honey, We’re not but don’t worry your head about it. We can figure it out next week. Just go with your daughter and we’ll see you next week.”
“She’s not my daughter!” Kitty exclaimed sternly. “This is my friend Joan. She picks me up on Wednesdays after my daughter drops me off.”
By now, Joan had heard this explanation at least a hundred times. She knew better than to try to explain to the old ladies that she was Dottie’s daughter-in-law. She knew better than to tell them she was married to Dottie’s oldest daughter. Even she knew that wouldn’t go over too well in this crowd. Best to let Dottie demote her to just a friend and usher her out gracefully.
They all gave each other awkward smiles as Joan grabbed Dottie’s purse and turned the rollater around so she could grab the handles. Dottie took the purse and placed it over her tiny shoulder leaving Joan to wonder how she could even bear the weight anymore.
“Did you have a rain coat?” Joan asked as they turned to leave.
“Why would I need a rain coat? It wasn’t raining when I left this morning.”
“Hmm. Ok. It was pouring at our house but maybe it didn’t make it across the bridge.”
“Well if it was, I would have worn a rain coat.” Dottie snorted back. Again, Joan knew better than to debate her on this.
All of the other ladies looked at each other with wide eyes as they each reached for their own rain coats. Again, they all smiled sheepishly at Joan and she looked back at them and said “Have a great day ladies. See you next week.”
They left the bridge room and Dottie rolled right under the stairwell with ease. As Joan tried to catch up with her, she banged her head into the bottom of the stairwell. “Dang! I do that every single time.”
“You’re just too tall.” Dottie chuckled.
“Yeah, must be. All 5’7” of me. So glad I have you to make me feel so tall.”
“I’m glad I could be of service.” Dottie retorted, proceeding to the front door where she waited for Joan to open the door and help her inside the car.
The cleaning woman chuckled under her breath as they nodded to each other. They both knew where they stood in this imaginary hierarchy, even if it was just in Dottie’s failing mind.
It was just another day in Other land.