A
little book about the friendship between Jenna, the actress trying to adjust to
life as a widow, Natalie, who chose a career instead of marriage and Liz, wife/mother/grandmother/volunteer/former
cabaret singer. They think their lives are settled; they don't expect any
drastic changes but they are in for some surprises. Travel, internet dating,
family problems, new friends, computer classes, a career change, a romance and
more give them a lot of things to discuss and plan at their weekly luncheons.
They find that they can adapt to and even welcome and enjoy the life changes in
spite of or because of their age; they are (shush, don't tell) over seventy!
Check out this
excerpt from the book!
NATALIE
NATALIE’S WEEKLY PLANNER
MONDAY Luncheon
show
at
River House Center—do all holiday songs
TUESDAY Appointment with
photographer re new head
shots
WEDNESDAY Spa day, massage, pedicure, manicure
THURSDAY Dinner show at Ivy House, learn
some Spanish songs
FRIDAY SAMA party, Liz and Joe
will pick me up
SATURDAY Theater with
Clay
SUNDAY Pot-luck
dinner in
building, bring dessert
Natalie stood in
the middle of her
huge walk-in closet looking for a solution to her
favorite problem—what
to
wear. The first
lines of a poem she read in some magazine ran through her mind.
I look in my closet, there’s nothing.
Though It’s true lots of clothes are hanging in there.
That could have been written about me, she thought. The huge, walk-in closet was completely stuffed. There were pant suits and cocktail dresses and jeans and glitzy tops; a
cabinet with six
shelves
held over
30 pairs of
shoes neatly arranged by
style, sneakers on one shelf, sandals on another and high heels and dressy
flats on still another. The shelves on the bottom held purses of
every size from tiny evening bags to practical carry-ons and the shelves
on the top held hats. There was a rainbow of caps, four beach hats and a bright red hat which
she
wore when she went to a meeting of The Red Hat Society. Natalie loved to shop; she took great care
of her clothes and she never gave anything away. It might come in
handy someday, she reasoned.
So there were clothes she bought last month mixed with clothes from ten, even
twenty years ago .
The right
front of the closet held
over 10 cocktail dresses, long skirts and sequined
tops;
they were what she called her working
clothes.
She hadn’t gained more than a few
pounds in the many
years she had been singing because, although she loved to eat, she was very careful. She got on the scale every single day
and
if she gained a pound on Wednesday
she
made sure to lose it by Saturday. “It’s
easy to lose one or two pounds, but I'd sure hate to have to lose five or fifteen” she told
friends when
they
asked how
she
stayed so thin. “I’m careful about what I eat and I exercise and play tennis and I take long walks a lot and, you know, carrying all of
my equipment around to my shows is like weight lifting.”
Nothing!, she thought in disgust. Nothing looks
right
for
tonight.
The party she was
going to attend was the SAMA (Singers and Musicians Association) annual holiday
gala. It was very important
that she look just right
because all of
her
professional
friends
and associates
would
be
attending ; it
was
also a good time to meet casting directors and talent agents on an informal basis. Natalie was a singer; she used to perform at
nightclubs
and on cruise ships, but for the last few
years, she worked mostly at country clubs and private parties and sometimes retirement communities.
She knew
the entertainment world has changed a lot in the almost 40 years she had
been singing.
Her agent kept telling her that she needed a Web
site
and business cards and a demo video and she knows he’s right, but
somehow, she hasn’t gotten around to doing these things.
Maybe I have time to run out
to
the store
and buy a new dress. No! That’s
ridiculous.
I don’t need any
more clothes.
I don’t
wear even half
of the things I have.
I’ll just close my eyes and pick something. She realized
that
she’d been standing in the closet thinking for about
ten minutes so she closed her eyes, pointed, opened them and groaned.
No, not the turquoise beaded jacket; the only think it goes with is a long black skirt and
I think it’s at
the
cleaners. I’ll try again
or is that cheating?
She laughed at herself.
Who would
know
or care? So, she closed
her
eyes tightly, turned
around twice for good measure, opened them
and
looked at where her finger was pointing.
Oh, good! That’s much better, she thought as she took
a silver sparkly
dress
off its hanger.
I love this
dress and I’m almost sure I didn’t wear it
to
the holiday party last year. Now, what
shoes? What jewelry? Which purse?
Sometimes, I really
wish I had a husband to give me advice about
what
to
wear. Although, from what I hear from my f riends, they aren’t
much
help. Liz says Joe is colorblind and poor Jenna
said her
husband always told
her
she looked wonderful, even if she was wearing ratty
old jeans and no make-up. I wonder what it would have been like to be married, to be a wife. Don asked me to marry him, but he wanted
me to give up singing in clubs
at night and traveling and I didn’t
want
to
do that. I’m
pretty sure Alex would have asked
me,
but I was taking care of Mom …poor Mom, she was so sick for a few
years, and then there
was
What’s-his-name? Martin? Melvin? I don’t even remember. Anyway, it isn’t bad being single. I have enough money to
do
anything I want; I
have a great apartment, good friends… Hey, it’s getting late. I better stop thinking and start getting ready.
She carefully put
the
dress on the bed, selected shoes and jewelry, and then sat down at
the
dressing table to, as she put
it,
start the magic. She carefully
applied foundation, concealer, blush, eye shadow, false eyelashes and lip
gloss. The whole process took almost an hour and
then she started on her hair.
“Why didn’t I go to the beauty
shop?” she moaned as she fashioned a glittery clip into
her blond curls.
Okay, she thought as she twirled in front of the mirror; this is as good as it gets; not bad for a woman
who’s been singing for over forty years. Forty years! How is that possible
when I still feel like twenty-five?
She draped a
black, silk shawl over her shoulders, grabbed her evening bag and went downstairs to wait
for
her friend Liz
and
her husband who had
offered to pick
her up. “It’s silly for you to take your car; you’re right
on our way,” they insisted.
The party was in full swing when
she
walked into the room; she was immediately surrounded by
friends.
“Natalie, it’s
so wonderful to see
you.”
“Natalie, it’s been too long; where have you
been keeping yourself?”
“Natalie, you look terrific.
I always loved that dress
on you.”
“Hi, everyone, it’s so great to see you too.”
She hugged and air kissed several people. Damn, she thought,
What did she mean she always loved this dress on me? Did
I wear it last year?
Oh my, as a pair of arms grabbed her, a bear hug!
“Mike, you scared me. How are you? What?” she said
to
a woman who was shouting something to her. “I can’t hear you; this music is so loud. Oh, you want
me
to sit at your table? I’d love to. Is there room for Liz
and
her husband? They're parking the car.”
“Natalie, you need a drink,” Clay Carter, wearing blue jeans and a hot green tee shirt
(he
was
opposed to jackets and didn’t even own a tie), appeared at her side holding two glasses of
wine.
“How
are you, Sweetie?” he kissed her cheek. “When
are we going to have another singing session?
Call me tomorrow.
I’ll
go get us some snacks.”
“Who was that?” Grace, a fellow singer who Natalie didn’t
particularly
care for because she was known as the group gossip, nudged
her
and whispered loudly, “I mean, who in
the world
was
that? He’s absolutely
yummy! Listen,” (she lowered her voice) “ I heard you were seeing some guy, a
younger guy.
Is that him?
I bet
it is. How
old is he? Why you devil! Are you a, what do they call them?
Cougars! Are you a cougar?”
“Don’t be silly,” Natalie answered as she sipped
her
wine. “Clay is a friend;
we’re just
friends. He’s
a singer, too, and we like to sing together sometimes.”
“Sure! I get it,” Grace winked. “I won’t
say another word. “Anyway, I want to show
you something. I’ve got
pictures
of my
grandson’s birthday party! Look, they’re right here on
my phone. See, here
he
is blowing out the candles and
here is
his
friend who was crying
and here is his cake and…”
“That’s so interesting,” Natalie said as she backed away. “I’m just going to…uh, look for
Liz and show
her
where we’re sitting.”
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