The women came to the end of Duval and headed up a twisting garden path behind the Pier House, through schefflera and hibiscus, onto a boardwalk next to a lagoon where hotel guests were throwing Chicklets to a school of feeding tarpon, then winding back to the patio until they finally stood near a hall tucked under the hotel by the supply rooms and the mops.
“This can’t be it,” said Teresa.
Sam pulled a paperback from her purse and opened to a bookmarked passage. “That must be the door.” She grabbed the handle.
A row of faces along the bar squinted at the silhouettes of five women backlit by bright sunlight. The BBB stood still in the doorway a few seconds — that awkward, territorial moment when newcomers first set foot in a regulars’ bar. They started moving again toward a table in a corner of the tiny room, hanging purses over the backs of chairs.
“So this is the Chart Room,” said Maria, shifting in her seat, straightening panties. She looked around for a waitress.
“I think this is the kind of place where you have to go to the bar,” said Sam, getting up.
Teresa turned her paperback over, scanning blurbs on the back —
Maria reached out and touched the plain cinder-block wall. “So this is where Buffett got his start?”
“Right here in this corner,” said Paige, referring to her own paperback. “Arrived with Jerry Jeff Walker. Played six-string for tips while writing his early songs.”
“Wow,” said Rebecca, and they all gazed at the ground under their feet with a sense of reverence usually reserved for mangers.
Teresa stood up. “I’ll get the next pitcher.”
And so it went. Another pitcher. Then another. Then liquor.
“How’d we get so drunk?”
“It’s a fuckin’ mystery,” said Rebecca, slamming a shot glass down on the table.
“Sam, how come you aren’t drinking as much as we are?” asked Teresa.
“Lost its luster. Half the men I prosecute are wife-beating alcoholics.”
“Prosecute? I thought you were a public defender.”
“Was. But I kind of got tired interviewing clients in jail who asked me if I liked to take it in the ass.”
“I can see how that would get tedious,” said Rebecca. Then she asked if any of the others owned an SUV. They said they didn’t and asked why. Rebecca wanted to know if anyone else had a problem with men who liked to pull up at stoplights next to female drivers in taller vehicles so the women have a clear view of them beating off.
“How often does this happen?” asked Maria.
“More like how often
“Patch up cats shot with BB guns and dogs set on fire and pelicans who’ve been thrown fish filled with needles and M-80s.”
“Who would do such things?” said Teresa.
“Obviously the work of women,” said Sam.
“I wouldn’t necessarily go easy on our own kind,” said Maria.
“You’re right,” said Sam. She raised her glass for a toast. “Fuck Dr. Laura.”
“Hear! Hear!”
The alcohol got the best of Maria. “Do you remember…” she said, then stumbled into forbidden territory.
The other four glowered at her. “We never talk about that!” snapped Teresa. The others nodded.
“Excuse the hell out of me.”
They all sighed and sagged.
“Nothing exciting ever happens to us,” said Rebecca.
Teresa suddenly straightened up and got out her organizer. “We should make a list.”
“Of what?”
“Things to do as a group to break out of our ruts. Adventures, risks.” Teresa clicked her pen open. “Okay. New bylaw. Everything that goes on the list we all have to do together. No exceptions.”
“Sounds like disaster,” said Sam.
“The psychology of group behavior. It’ll embolden us to do things we’d never attempt as individuals.”
“That’s how we got suffragettes,” said Rebecca.
“And lynchings,” said Sam.
“I don’t think I want to lynch anyone,” said Maria.
“What about your ex-husbands?”
“New bylaw,” said Teresa. “Those in favor?”
“Aye.” “Aye.” “Aye.” “Aye.” “Nay.”
“What sort of things do we put on the list?” asked Paige.
“Stuff like sky-diving,” said Maria.
Teresa sat poised with pen. “Item number one. Anybody?”
“Sky-diving,” said Rebecca.
“Okay, I’ve changed my mind. Let’s lynch my husbands.”
“I’m being serious.”
“So am I.”
“Who’s got ideas, besides Maria, who needs to get in the proper spirit?”
“Get a tattoo.”
“Use a powerful man before he uses you.”
“Watch the New Year’s ball drop in Times Square.”
“Skinny-dip.”
“Shoplift.”
“That’s going too far,” said Sam.
