It may be raining but there's a rainbow above you,
You better let somebody love you
Before it's too late...
"Desperado," the Eagles song turned into Foreigner's melodramatic "Blue Morning, Blue Day," as she entered her sister's dirt driveway. Instantly, she was out the door and she accompanied her sister inside the big old New England farmhouse.
"Look what we did to the house today," her sister led her through the keeping room.
"Oh," Debbie gasped, "look at that." She pointed to a corner with a new stained glass window and remnants of a black wrought iron gate. "It reminds me of New York."
And, "Oh, creative," as she looked at the upturned desk beside a chair.
"The table's set," Sherri said.
Outside in the summer evening, blue plates were set beside blue glasses. Yellow and lavendar flowers graced the white picnic table. the umbrella stood strangely closed. Couldn't we open it, she wanted to ask.
"Ooooh, it's so relaxing here."
Tall, tall flowers, lavendar and white phlox grew in the no maintenance garden. "We mow it every year," Red would joke.
They ate chunks of cucumber and tomatoes and warm red potatoes seasoned with fresh herbs. Debbie could tell they were fresh because, she grew them at their parents' home in the back yard. The steak was ready and she pulled bits of it with her knife while big Black Cat gnawed at his share on the ground, his furry back hunched over.
"He's an oink-oink," Sherri said.
And then, she recalled her high school prom. Mike Brooks had asked her to be his date. Mom had said, "No. You're not going." Sherri went to the prom anyway. Then, Mike Brooks had left her to dance with her best friend, and shortly after that, they started dating.
"In church, the next day, Father McGillicuddy said how important it is to forgive your neighbor. And Marilyn was my neighbor!"
Debbie laughed.
"And I cried!" Sherri clenched her fists to her sides and bared her teeth.
Debbie laughed again. "And now, you could probably both laugh. And it seemed so unforgivable then."
"If we don't hurry now, we won't have time to get ice cream." And Sherri began tearing the clothes off the clothes line. Debbie carried the straw tray piled with dishes to the house. Tropical Carribbean zydeco music serenaded them from the CD player.
It's so peaceful here, she wanted to say. Why don't we skip the ice cream?
Sherri backed her black Volvo out of the driveway and Debbie followed her in her brown Pinto. In front of them at the stop sign, a fire engine wailed. A policeman stood in the middle of the road, waving them through the blinking red stop light. Traffic lined the country road on both sides. The fire engine turned right, toward the direction of the casino. Sherri turned into the Red Rooster parking lot and Debbie followed, just before an oncoming car approached. They selected ice cream flavors. When Debbie started licking the cone, Sherri said, "No. We don't have time," and requested cups.
When the road was clear, Debbie followed her, smoothly out of the parking lot. On the highway, she lost her. A large truck loomed in front of her. On the exit ramp, Debbie caught up with Sherri.
The clouds were pale pink, the sky a deep blue on this late summer evening. Connecticut was so beautiful, it seemed surreal. Debbie listened to a song about "time and space between me and you," which she usually thought depressing, "A Prayer for the Dying." The cars were going faster and faster, it seemed, as time raced into the future with the building of the new casino.
