Dena had to laugh.
“You know, all you rich and famous people have to put up with people who knew them when, so you’re going to have to put up with me for life. That’s your cross to bear, honey. That’s what you get for being a star. Besides, can’t you get a later plane?”
“I would love to but I can’t. I have to tape some spots back here at five.”
“Well, all right, but I’m still coming. I need to lay my eyeballs on you in person. Anyhow, don’t you want to see me? I would think you would be pining away to see what I look like now that I’m old and feeble.”
She had to give in. “Oh, all right. I can see you’re not going to take no for an answer.”
“That’s right. Now, tell me where you are staying and I’ll come to wherever you are and we can meet there, OK?”
“OK, but I’m not in my office and I don’t know where they put me. I’ll have to call you and let you know where and what time.”
“Now, you better call me back because you’re not getting off the hook. I’m going to keep up with you whether you like it or not, Dena Gene Nordstrom!”
“All right. And Sookie …”
“Yes?”
“You are still the silliest girl I ever met.”
Sookie laughed. “Well, at least that’s something.”
When Dena hung up she had to smile. Of all the girls she had been in school with, Sookie had been her closest friend, so maybe it might not be so bad. It could even be fun.
Old Times
Atlanta, Georgia
1973
A week later, after Dena had given her speech, she did not get to sleep until 3:00 A.M. When her wake-up call came the next morning, she had to drag herself out of bed. What had sounded like fun a week ago now felt like sheer drudgery. What had possessed her to set up a breakfast date with Sookie? As she showered she thought the only consolation was that at least she would not have to do much of anything but listen because Sookie would do all the talking. She packed, threw her raincoat on over a pair of slacks and a sweater, and went downstairs.
Walking into the coffee shop, she immediately saw Sookie over in the corner, waving madly. Dena would have known her anywhere. She had on a neat cotton shirtwaist dress and still wore her short red hair in bangs, exactly as she had in college. She looked like she had dressed in a time warp. Sookie stood up and ran over and hugged her and jumped up and down, and squealed like a teenager. “Oh, Dena … I am so excited! I’m so glad to see you, oh, sit down and let me look at you. I’m so nervous, I’m about to have an epileptic fit. Here you are in person, and I hate to say it, but you still look the same, same gorgeous pale skin, absolutely glamorous!” They sat down.
“Take those dark glasses off,” Sookie said, “and let me scrutinize you good.”
As tired as she was, Dena found that she was glad to see Sookie, who still had the personality of a game show contestant and her enthusiasm was hard not to get caught up in. Dena removed her sunglasses. Sookie squinted at her and then sat back in mock disgust.
“Well, I just knew it! Not a stitch of makeup … and here I have to slap on enough makeup to paint a battleship just to look decent and there you sit, gorgeous and as young-looking as ever. I was hoping to see at least one or two crow’s-feet, but no.” She leaned in. “Look at me, honey, I’m getting new crow’s-feet right in front of your eyes. Earle says they’re laugh lines—of course he’s blind as a bat. Marry a nearsighted man and you’ll never look old.”
“Sookie, you look great.”
“I do? Well, I’m just an old married woman, with children now. My youth is a thing of the past, gone with the wind.”
Dena laughed. “Oh, stop it. You don’t look a day older than the last time I saw you. Now, tell me what’s going on with you.”
“Nothing, same old stuff, raising my kids, you know, nothing. But forget about me, you’re the one with the exciting life. I still can’t believe you’re here. Do you know how long it’s been?”
“No.”
“Well, I’m not even going to tell you. But I want to hear about everything; tell me about the dinner last night. Weren’t you just thrilled with your award? What an honor. Was dinner wonderful?”
Dena dismissed it. “It was all right as those things go.”
“Didn’t they give you some big award?”
“No, it was just a plaque.”
“Oh,” Sookie said, taken aback. “Well, I’d be thrilled if someone gave me an award and wanted me to speak.”
“No, you wouldn’t. Not after a while.”
“Yes, I would, honey, I’d take any award they handed me and run like a thief!”
“I tell you what,” Dena said, smiling, “next one I get I’m going to put a blond wig on you and send you. Come on, let’s don’t talk about me, you know what I’ve been up to; tell me about yourself.”
“Me? Like I said, everything’s the same. We moved out of Earle’s mother’s old house downtown and moved out to this cute little house in the suburbs and we love it, and I do some work in the community, you know, all that stuff.”
The waitress came up to the table. Dena ordered coffee but Sookie told the waitress, “I don’t want anything with caffeine, I’m so nervous now I’m about to faint. Dena, what time is it?”
Dena assured her that they still had some time before she had to leave. “OK,” Sookie said, “bring me some Sanka, iced!”
“How many children do you have?”
“Honey, I’ve had two more since the last time I saw you. I’m like the old woman in the shoe—so many children I don’t know what to do. I have three now, can you believe it, three little girls, Ce Ce, Dee Dee, and Le Le.” Sookie whipped out a photograph of herself and three little miniature Sookies, bangs and all. “I wanted to bring all the albums to show you but Earle wouldn’t let me.”
“They are very pretty.”
Sookie beamed. “I think so but I’m their mother. But Earle is beside himself; he thinks all three are going to grow up and become Miss Alabama. Of course, we’re going to have to get their ears fixed before they start dating.”
“What?”
“You can’t see there, but unfortunately all three have the Poole ears. You remember how Earle’s ears stick out. Daddy said at first that he looked like a taxicab with both back doors open. Anyway, thank heavens they’re girls so I can just puff their little hair over them.”
Dena looked at the photo again. “Sookie, are those mother-and-daughter dresses?”
“Yes, and don’t you make fun. I know it’s corny, but Earle’s running for city council and he thought it was cute—for the poster and all.”
“Oh, no, don’t tell me Earle is going into politics.”
“Oh, yes. He says it’s good for business. Besides, he’s very civic-minded. You can keep that picture, we have hundreds of them.”
“Thanks. What about you, Sookie? Are you still busy trying to be Miss Popularity? You ran for every office on campus, I remember that.”
“Now, you’re not going to remind me of how silly I used to be. Honey, what did I know? When I hit SMU, I was straight out of Selma. Besides, that’s not my fault. You remember Mother.”
“Oh, yes, Lenore the Magnificent. How is she?”
Sookie rolled her eyes. “Unfortunately, fine, still terrorizing everybody within a hundred miles. Anyway, it was all her fault. She said I had to make all A’s or else be popular. She said if you can’t be smart, be bubbly … and Lord knows I bubbled.”
The waitress served them their coffee and a woman came up to the table behind her and spoke to Dena. “Excuse me, could I have your autograph, please? I’m one of your biggest fans.”
Sookie was pleased and chatted happily with her while Dena had to dig through her purse looking for a pen and a piece of paper because the woman had neither. “Dena and I roomed together in college in the Kappa house.”
“Is that right?” the woman said.
“Yes. I drove all the way over from Selma, Alabama, t
his morning just to visit with her for a few minutes. We haven’t seen each other in years. But she looks just the same. I said to her, I said, ‘Dena, here I am getting so old I’m falling in a heap and you look the same.’ ”
The woman smiled. “Well, isn’t that nice that you girls could get together.”
Dena finally found a pen and an old envelope and asked, “Is this for you? Or do you want me to sign it to somebody else?”
The woman said, “Oh, no, it’s for me,” and continued talking to Sookie. “I had a cousin who married a girl from Selma. Lettie Kathrine Wyndam.”
“Oh, I know the Wyndams. They are a lovely family!”
“Well, Lettie was certainly a lovely girl.”
Dena interrupted again. “Excuse me, I need to know how you want this made out.”
“You can just make it out to me, honey.”
Dena tried to be polite. “Could you tell me your name?”
The woman said, “Oh … I’m sorry … just make it out to Mary Lib Hawkins.”
Sookie continued on. “I tried to get Dena to come over to Selma and visit for a few days but she’s so busy, she has to fly back to New York to tape something this afternoon. Can you imagine that, making her work on Sunday? They must be heathens, if you ask me.”
Mary Lib was sympathetic and looked at Dena. “Oh, you poor thing.”
Dena handed her the envelope. “Here you go,” she said, “and thank you.”
“Thank you. And I hope you girls get in a nice visit.”
Sookie answered for both of them. “Thank you, ma’am, we will.”
After she left, Sookie turned to Dena, excited. “Wasn’t she nice? I’ll bet you get people coming up to you all the time. Doesn’t that make you feel important? I feel important just sitting here with you. Don’t you just love it?”
“No, not really.”
“You do too love it, all that attention. Who wouldn’t?”
Dena smiled. “It’s all right. It’s just … sometimes I don’t feel like being nice.”
“Well, you better be nice to me, Dena Nordstrom, with all that I’ve had to put up with because of you.”
“Because of me?”
“It wasn’t easy being roommates with the best-looking girl on campus. It’s a wonder it didn’t warp me for life. I had to work for hours getting my hair to do right and get my makeup on. And you would just get out of bed and go and look better than all of us. Remember how you used to eat like a lumberjack while I had to practically starve myself? All I could have was one lettuce leaf for dinner, to keep my thighs from jiggling, and you still haven’t put on a pound. I should just kill you in the name of all womanhood.” Sookie laughed. “Oh, and Dena, do you remember that electrosizer machine I bought that was supposed to reduce your thighs? Right before the homecoming dance? I stayed hooked up to that thing for hours, made myself black and blue, and I still looked like a sack of grapefruit in that dress.”
“Sookie, you were one of the most attractive girls on campus and you know it.”
“Ha! Just when I’d get some boy interested, you’d walk by and he would leave me in the dust. The only reason I got Earle Poole was because he was nearsighted.”
“Oh, don’t be silly. Earle adored you.”
Sookie said, “Well, don’t forget Wayne Comer. When he saw you, he dropped me like a hot potato and started chasing after you. Broke my heart.”
“For God’s sake, Sookie, you never loved that geeky boy. He was an idiot!”
“Well, I know that now. Speaking of that, who’re you dating? Anybody special?”
“Yes. I guess …”
Sookie’s eyes lit up. “Oh, anybody I know?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Oh, pooh, I was hoping you were having a wild romance with some big movie star. Well, are you at least in love, then?”
“No, thank God.”
Sookie was surprised. “Don’t you want to be in love?”
“No, I tried that … and I hated it. Never again. It is better to be the one who is loved than the one who loves. Take it from me, that’s my motto.”
“Oh, Dena, remember in college when I was so in love with Tony Curtis and you were in love with that writer … Tennessee Williams? You had his picture over your bed.”
“That’s right, my gosh … how do you remember that? I had almost forgotten.”
“How could I forget? Don’t you remember, you dragged me all the way up to St. Louis, Missouri, on some sacred pilgrimage to see some dumb shoe factory where he had worked. And you cried like it was some sort of shrine!”
“My gosh, that’s right. The International Shoe Company …”
“And then we took the streetcar out to some old ugly apartment building where he had lived.”
“God, I had forgotten all about that.”
Sookie sat back, pleased. “Now, see … aren’t you enjoying yourself, remembering old times? Now, aren’t you glad you came? I knew you were trying to wiggle out of it. I told Earle, I said she’s going to try and wiggle out of it. Now, aren’t you glad you didn’t?”
“Yes.”
“I always had to force you to be social. If it hadn’t been for me pushing you, you wouldn’t have ever been a Kappa. You wouldn’t have known anybody except those weirdo theater majors if it hadn’t been for me; now admit it, isn’t that the truth?”
“Yes. I guess.”
“Remember how shy you were? But I pushed you out into the world. As a matter of fact, I am completely responsible for your success today. At least that’s what I tell everybody—so don’t you dare tell anybody any different.”
“OK.”
“You know I’m kidding, but really, Dena, aren’t you glad you got over your little theater and artsy phase?”
Dena was confused. “My artsy phase?”
“Oh, don’t you remember how you used to go to that stupid movie house all the time, the one that showed all those weird pictures?”
“Do you mean the Lyric?”
“Yes. You made me go see some old stupid clown picture that wasn’t even in English.”
“Children of Paradise? It was French.”
“Well, it was awful, whatever it was. You used to drag me to the craziest places, like I was a rag doll, and I let you. Mother said I had a weak mind and I guess she was right, but we had fun, didn’t we? You used to do the craziest things, always acting like a fool. Remember how much trouble we would get into giggling all night? Remember Judy Horne, the one with the sinus problem? Used to bang on our wall trying to get us to shut up. Remember on Kappa alumni day when you pretended you were a transfer student from Sweden? You wore some funny outfit and had an accent; it was a scream.”
“I did?”
“Yes, oh, and oh, my God—Greek week and that crazy song you wrote for the Kappa skit.”
Dena looked puzzled.
“Oh, you know! You made us all put balloons in our sweaters and we all sang ‘Thanks for the Mammaries.’ We were silly and happy as clams, we’d laugh from morning till night.”
“Really? I remember that you and I had fun but I don’t remember being all that happy all the time.”
“You were; nothing fazed you. You were always happy-go-lucky.”
“I was?”
“Yes.”
“Huh. Are you sure?”
“Of course, I was your roommate. I guess I know.”
“That’s funny. I remember being sort of unhappy at school.”
“Oh, you were not! You were just a little moody, that’s all. And I just chalked that up to dramatic temperament; you had all the leads in those awful plays. You used to spend hours over at that theater doing something, all night long, and I’d have to sneak down and leave the back door unlocked for you. You spent so much time over there, everybody thought you had a secret boyfriend and you just wouldn’t tell us. And don’t you remember the night Mitzy McGruder and I—by the way, she’s married now … finally—snuck over to the theater and there you were at two o?
??clock in the morning prancing all over the stage all by yourself. You’d sing, then you’d laugh, and then you’d dance awhile; it was hysterical, you were a riot. What were you doing?”
Dena shook her head. “Lord knows. Acting, I guess, fooling with the lights. Who knows?”
“Well, whatever you were doing, it paid off. Here you are a big star. Now, tell me who all you’ve met.”
“Like who?”
“Stars. Did you ever meet Tony Curtis?”
“No.”
Sookie was visibly disappointed. “Oh, why don’t you interview him sometime? I’ll bet a lot of people would like to see that. You should listen to me, Dena, I’m the general public.”
Then a heavyset waitress came over and stood staring at Dena and asked her what her name was.
Dena looked up. “Excuse me?”
“What’s your name? Somebody said you were a celebrity or something.”
Sookie was happy to tell her. “This is Dena Nordstrom; you’ve seen her on television.”
The waitress, who had no idea who Dena was, said, “Can I have your autograph then?”
Sookie, an old pro by now, answered, “Sure, you can. Do you have a pencil and a piece of paper?”
The waitress handed Dena her check pad. “Here, put it on the back of this … make it to Billie.”
Billie turned around and yelled, “Thelma, come over here and get her autograph and get Dwayne out of the kitchen!”
Then she asked Sookie, “Can Dwayne have one?”
Sookie said, “Dena, can you do one for Dwayne?” Then Sookie asked the waitress, “Who’s Dwayne?”
“He’s the cook.”
“He’s the cook, Dena; you don’t mind, do you?”
Dena signed the other waitress’s pad. “All right, but tell him to hurry up.”
Billie handed her a piece of paper. “Here, just sign it. He’s busy. I’ll take it to him.”
Dena signed, the waitress took it. “Thank you.”
Sookie was beaming. “Oh, Dena, I feel just like a proud parent. I always knew you were going to be famous. I used to tell you that all the time, didn’t I?”