spot-on impersonation of Ralph Gordon. “‘Well, Marty, UMass is fine as state schools go, but it’s a shame he didn’t get into Harvard, like Mark did.’” He looked over, the pain evident in his eyes. “Why can’t they be proud of me for once?”
“I totally get it.” She offered a sympathetic smile, and poured out her frustrations of living in Rachel’s shadow, concluding with the stone-skipping contest.
“So how did you do?” Jack had asked.
Hannah snorted. “I’ve never skipped stones in my life. How do you think I did?”
He’d chuckled, and her mood brightened as their shortcomings became a common bond. Jack raised his glass. “To us, the family disappointments.”
Hannah laughed and tapped her glass to his. “To us.”
That night, he’d asked her to dance, and a few days later, he called to invite her to a movie. By summer’s end, they were a couple—a transition so natural that Hannah had to pinch herself. After all these years, Jack had realized what everyone else knew all along. They were meant for one another.
No other woman understood him the way she did, and no squeaky-voiced dental hygienist was going to come between them.
When Deena had finished with Hannah’s hair, Rox applied makeup so subtle it hardly seemed there at all. Lupe brought out a flowing, brightly colored dress.
“I thought I would be wearing my own clothes,” Hannah said.
“Tonight, we want you in something special.” Lupe held up the dress, and a pair of low-heeled sandals with wide brown straps.
The dress’s large floral print made it look like cruise wear for a woman her mother’s age. Not Hannah’s taste at all, but it was loose fitting and would disguise what needed disguising. The clunky shoes looked comfortable—probably a good thing, if she had to stand for hours. She paid no attention to fashion; these women were professionals who must know what they were doing. “Thank you,” she said. “It’s beautiful.”
Twenty minutes later Cynthia Bishop and a camera crew arrived. “Oh, she looks
per
fect.”
“Exactly the look we’re after.” She turned to Hannah. “Nervous?”
“A little,” she replied.
Cynthia gave Hannah’s hand a squeeze. “Completely understandable. The first night is always nerve-racking, and you’re about to meet your flings. Why don’t you have a glass of wine before we start our pre-party interview?”
She’d already had two, and nothing to eat, but Rox took her glass and refilled it. Cynthia led Hannah to the balcony where the camera crew was setting up. A female sound tech fastened a tiny lavalier microphone inside the neckline of Hannah’s dress as she sat in the chair facing the eye-level camera and squinted. “The sun’s in my eyes. Can I move a little?”
The cameraman shook his head. “Nope. The light’s perfect right where you are.” The camera’s little red light flashed on. “Rolling now,” he said.
Off camera, Cynthia glanced at the clipboard in her hand. “So, Hannah, Eric told me you weren’t totally on board with the idea of the show.”
Oh God, did they have to start with this? Hannah took a generous drink of wine, though she was already feeling the effects. “Umm...not at first, but it meant so much to Jack that I didn’t have the heart to say no.”
“Jack was eager to come on
Last Fling
?”
“Very. As soon as he heard about it, he was really excited.”
“And you went along with it? Personally, I think that’s great, but a lot of women wouldn’t have been so agreeable.”
Hannah laughed, but it sounded nervous and forced. She smiled without feeling it. “Jack has always wanted to be on TV. I love him and want to support him in the things that are important. Just as he does for me.”
“What does he do for you?”
“Well, he...” Suddenly her mind was blank. The question had come out of nowhere, and she wasn’t ready with an answer. The longer she paused, the more awkward the silence became. Jack did many things
“I totally get it.” She offered a sympathetic smile, and poured out her frustrations of living in Rachel’s shadow, concluding with the stone-skipping contest.
“So how did you do?” Jack had asked.
Hannah snorted. “I’ve never skipped stones in my life. How do you think I did?”
He’d chuckled, and her mood brightened as their shortcomings became a common bond. Jack raised his glass. “To us, the family disappointments.”
Hannah laughed and tapped her glass to his. “To us.”
That night, he’d asked her to dance, and a few days later, he called to invite her to a movie. By summer’s end, they were a couple—a transition so natural that Hannah had to pinch herself. After all these years, Jack had realized what everyone else knew all along. They were meant for one another.
No other woman understood him the way she did, and no squeaky-voiced dental hygienist was going to come between them.
When Deena had finished with Hannah’s hair, Rox applied makeup so subtle it hardly seemed there at all. Lupe brought out a flowing, brightly colored dress.
“I thought I would be wearing my own clothes,” Hannah said.
“Tonight, we want you in something special.” Lupe held up the dress, and a pair of low-heeled sandals with wide brown straps.
The dress’s large floral print made it look like cruise wear for a woman her mother’s age. Not Hannah’s taste at all, but it was loose fitting and would disguise what needed disguising. The clunky shoes looked comfortable—probably a good thing, if she had to stand for hours. She paid no attention to fashion; these women were professionals who must know what they were doing. “Thank you,” she said. “It’s beautiful.”
Twenty minutes later Cynthia Bishop and a camera crew arrived. “Oh, she looks
per
fect.”
“Exactly the look we’re after.” She turned to Hannah. “Nervous?”
“A little,” she replied.
Cynthia gave Hannah’s hand a squeeze. “Completely understandable. The first night is always nerve-racking, and you’re about to meet your flings. Why don’t you have a glass of wine before we start our pre-party interview?”
She’d already had two, and nothing to eat, but Rox took her glass and refilled it. Cynthia led Hannah to the balcony where the camera crew was setting up. A female sound tech fastened a tiny lavalier microphone inside the neckline of Hannah’s dress as she sat in the chair facing the eye-level camera and squinted. “The sun’s in my eyes. Can I move a little?”
The cameraman shook his head. “Nope. The light’s perfect right where you are.” The camera’s little red light flashed on. “Rolling now,” he said.
Off camera, Cynthia glanced at the clipboard in her hand. “So, Hannah, Eric told me you weren’t totally on board with the idea of the show.”
Oh God, did they have to start with this? Hannah took a generous drink of wine, though she was already feeling the effects. “Umm...not at first, but it meant so much to Jack that I didn’t have the heart to say no.”
“Jack was eager to come on
Last Fling
?”
“Very. As soon as he heard about it, he was really excited.”
“And you went along with it? Personally, I think that’s great, but a lot of women wouldn’t have been so agreeable.”
Hannah laughed, but it sounded nervous and forced. She smiled without feeling it. “Jack has always wanted to be on TV. I love him and want to support him in the things that are important. Just as he does for me.”
“What does he do for you?”
“Well, he...” Suddenly her mind was blank. The question had come out of nowhere, and she wasn’t ready with an answer. The longer she paused, the more awkward the silence became. Jack did many things
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