THE SWEET DELILAH SWIM CLUB
ACT ONE
Scene 1
Lights come up on the living room of a simple and charming North Carolina beach cottage. It’s late afternoon. Lively beach music plays on a radio. Upstage center is a table cluttered with grocery bags and a small ice chest. Down right is a screen door to the porch and parking area. Upstage center is the doorway to the hall that leads to bedrooms and the bathroom. Down left is a door to the kitchen. Liquor bottles, an ice bucket, a pitcher of iced tea and assorted glasses sit on a small table outside the kitchen that serves as a bar. On the wall above is an old, weathered sign that reads “Sweet Delilah Cottage.” A couch, easy chairs, lamps and end tables are arranged center stage. There is a potted plant on the stage right end table. A suitcase sits nearby. Sheree Hollinger, mid-forties, dressed in khaki shorts, polo shirt and tennis shoes, dances to the music as she unpacks and organizes the room. She gets into the music and dances with abandon. Lexie Richards, mid-forties, in a sexy off-the-shoulder sundress and a large straw hat, enters unseen through the screen door with a suitcase and a bundle of roses. She watches Sheree’s energetic gyrations, pulls a phone from her purse, then snaps a picture as Sheree shakes her fanny. Sheree whirls around, startled.
SHEREE. Lexie! (Snaps off the music.) You can’t sneak up and take a picture of someone when they think nobody’s watching.
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LEXIE. Yeah, that’s what my second ex-husband said, but it was the look of surprise on his assistant’s face that got me the big divorce settlement, wasn’t it?
SHEREE. (Laughs.) Oh, hush. (Gives Lexie a hug.) It’s so good to see you.
LEXIE. You, too, Sheree. Lord, I just live for these weekends. (Walks to the “picture window” that looks out onto the ocean, i.e., out toward the audience.) Oh, look. Isn’t that the most gorgeous thing you’ve ever seen?
SHEREE. (Joins her.) Yeah, there’s nothing more beautiful than afternoon sun sparkling on the Atlantic Ocean.
LEXIE. Actually, I was talkin’ about me. I just caught my reflection in the window and these highlights in my hair are divine.
SHEREE. What took you so long to get here? There wasn’t any traffic coming in from Raleigh.
LEXIE. Well, there was this very attractive young man selling blueberries at the stoplight. So, I rolled down my window and told him, “If you can show me a cute tattoo, I’ll buy a pint of blueberries.”
SHEREE. Yeah. And…?
LEXIE. Well, I am here to tell you… (Leans out the screen door and brings in two large bags filled with berries.) It’s surprising all the places you can put a tattoo. (Hands Sheree the bags.)
SHEREE. So, I guess we’ll be having these on…everything.
LEXIE. Y’all can. I’ve never been a big fan of blueberries. (Puts roses into a vase.)
SHEREE. Lexie, those roses! You always bring such beautiful flowers.
LEXIE. I can’t help myself. I thrive on the lovely things in life: flowers in sterling vases, hand-lettered place cards and flickering candlelight. Blame my refined and genteel Southern nature for the— (Drops all pretension.) Ooh, iced tea! I’m drier than a cow chip in a dust storm. (Pours herself a glass of tea.)
SHEREE. Did you bring the propane lighter for the grill?
LEXIE. Uh, sorry, I forgot it.
SHEREE. You forgot it last year, too. Not to worry. I’ve got it.
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LEXIE. Well, if you were gonna bring it, why did you ask me to?
SHEREE. Same reason I buy every gadget that promises painless underarm hair removal: I keep hoping for a miracle. (Picks up a note pad.) I was just about to go over my list when you drove up: Turn in rental contract for cottage, check. Confirm Sweet Delilah for next year, check. Emergency kits…oh, shoot! I forgot the nori.
LEXIE. Nori? What do you need seaweed for?
SHEREE. My hors d’oeuvres.
LEXIE. For your—? (Covering her alarm.) Why, Sheree Hollinger, after you whipped up all those…delightful snacks last year, we agreed the rest of us would bring them this year. You shouldn’t have to do everything.
SHEREE. Hey, once team captain, always team captain. Besides, y’all know I’m all about good nutrition. At least this way you girls eat healthy once a year. (Pulls a Tupperware out of the ice chest.) Let me just put these in the fridge. Ooh, this is fabulous: mung bean paste with goji berries and herring oil. Try it.
LEXIE. No, I don’t think I— (Sheree pops one into Lexie’s mouth and exits into the kitchen with grocery bags. Disgusted, Lexie spits the snack into a potted plant.)
SHEREE. (Calls from offstage.) What do you think?
LEXIE. (Loudly.) I think you’ve outdone yourself. Hey, are we going to Colonel Shad’s Flounder Palace for supper tonight?
SHEREE. (Reenters.) You mean, the place they asked us to leave last year because every time the waiter leaned down, you licked his ear?
LEXIE. Sheree, he’d recently arrived from Honduras. I was merely showing him how hospitable we North Carolinians can be. (Reacts to Sheree’s look.) Oh, don’t worry, I no longer behave like that in public.
SHEREE. Today’s tattooed blueberry boy notwithstanding.
LEXIE. Temporary lapse. Won’t happen again.
SHEREE. Until you spot the first guy on the beach with tight abs.
LEXIE. Well, I am strong, but I’m not made of stone. (Dinah Grayson, mid-forties, steps into the cottage dressed in executive chic.
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She brings in a shoulder tote bag, a suitcase on wheels and a portable bar in a case.)
DINAH. Out of the way, girls. I’ve got a martini shaker and I’m not afraid to use it.
SHEREE. Dinah! (They hug.) How was the drive from Atlanta?
DINAH. It took forever. Then some idiot buying blueberries had traffic backed up all the way to the bridge. (Sheree gives Lexie a look, as Dinah gives Lexie a hug.) I had no idea it would take this long to— (Pulls back and looks at Lexie.) Oh, my God, Lexie, you had your eyes done.
LEXIE. Why, yes I did. (For Sheree’s benefit.) It’s so nice when someone appreciates personal improvement.
SHEREE. Okay, Dinah. I missed it. How did you notice that right off?
DINAH. Please, I’m a lawyer. The second thing they teach you in the shark pool is “developing an eye for detail.” It comes right after “negotiating top dollar for your soul.”
SHEREE. Don’t you think it’s a bit early to opt for cosmetic surgery, Lex?
LEXIE. Well, don’t look now, sugar, but we are forty-four. We’ve got to stay on top of gravity from here on out. I mean, just look what it’s already done to Dinah’s chest.
DINAH. I’ll remember that remark. Especially when you beg me to file suit after your next eye job turns you into a Siamese cat. (Sets her portable bar up on the table and starts mixing.) Now, excuse me while I slip into something chilled.
SHEREE. Oh, eat this first, Dinah. You probably didn’t have a thing for lunch.
DINAH. No, I actually had a—
SHEREE. (Pops an hors d’oeuvre into Dinah’s mouth.) I’ll get the ice. (Grabs the ice bucket and exits into the kitchen. Dinah is frozen with the hors d’oeuvre in her mouth.)
LEXIE. I share your pain. (Holds the potted plant up.) Fire away.
DINAH. (Spits into the plant.) That tastes like moldy grout. What is it?
LEXIE. Go with the grout. The truth is worse. (Eyes Dinah’s bag.) That bag looks suspiciously like a briefcase to me. I think someone’s
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forgotten the “special weekend” rules: No men, no kids, no work. Just us girls. Sheree’s going to be mighty sore if she finds out.
DINAH. (Low.) Okay, look, I’ve got a case that’s turned into a real bear. I had no choice but to bring some things I’ve got to tie up. Give me a break, it’s the first time I’ve breached the rules in twenty-two years. Just don’t mention it to her.
LEXIE. Okay, but this is going to cost you.
DINAH. Like how?
SHEREE. (Reenters with another tray.) There are plenty more snacks. I know how much you girls love these.
LEXIE. Well, no one loves them more than Dinah. Here you go, Hon’. (Pops an hors d’oeuvre in Dinah’s mouth.) You can have my share.
(Dinah shoots Lexie a look just as Vernadette Simms, mid-forties, flies through the screen door toward the hall that leads to the bathroom. Vernadette, in baggy pants and an oversized Hawaiian shirt, has one arm in a sling. She rolls her suitcase in behind her.)
VERNADETTE. Hi, y’all! Everyone’s lookin’ great. Ooooh, Lord! I don’t know if I can make it! Eeeekkkk! (Exits to bathroom.)
DINAH. I’d say Vernadette has arrived.
SHEREE. I swear that woman’s bladder gets smaller every year.
LEXIE. (Looks out the screen door.) Wow. How did a pickup that old actually make it all the way to the Outer Banks?
DINAH. (Glances over Lexie’s shoulder.) It does look like she’s had some repairs. I’m positive that’s brand-new duct tape holding the bumper on.
LEXIE. Bless her heart, a dark cloud’s been following that girl since the day she was born.
SHEREE. Did y’all hear Burl lost another job?
LEXIE. Great. An unemployed husband. That’ll put the spring back in her step.
SHEREE. Wonder how Vernadette hurt her arm.
DINAH. I know the answer: When that tree crushed their roof and knocked the deer head off the wall, she thought she was strong enough to catch it. Turns out, she was wrong.
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LEXIE. Oh, Lord. Can things get any worse?
VERNADETTE. (Reenters, having heard the end of their conversation.) Of course they can. Now, you know I hate to brag about my children, but a warrant was just issued for Eddie Mack’s arrest.
LEXIE. I had to ask.
VERNADETTE. One more precious memory in a lifetime filled with oh, so many.
DINAH. What did your boy do this time?
VERNADETTE. You know, I rarely bother asking anymore. Unless I see a chalk outline on the living room floor, I feel the less I know, the better. But I’m pretty sure Eddie Mack’s hiding in the root cellar under the shed out back of the house.
LEXIE. Aren’t you going to tell the police?
VERNADETTE. No, ma’am. I am not.
SHEREE. That’s right, Vernadette. A mother does not betray her child.
VERNADETTE. Absolutely not. Until there’s a bounty on his head and money to be made, the cops are on their own.
DINAH. (Hands her a drink.) Here, Vern. You need this more than I do.
VERNADETTE. At least Zandra hasn’t gone sour on me yet. Kinda makes me proud to know one of my kids has never been zapped with a police taser. (Looks around.) The table looks great, Lexie. You’ve got the touch.
LEXIE. Well, you know my credo, “Fresh flowers and a starched tablecloth turn little parties into big celebrations.”
DINAH. I thought your credo was “If it’s male, willing and breathing, it’s fair game.”
LEXIE. Don’t confuse credos with mantras. And every great party planner has a specialty. I’m known for my floral arrangements and tablescapes at all the fine catered affairs in the Chapel Hill area.
SHEREE. I keep telling Lexie we don’t need anything so elegant.
VERNADETTE. Now, I’m going to have to disagree with you, there. Let me tell you a story: After church, an adorable little girl comes up to the preacher and he says, “That is a beautiful dress, all
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those bows and ribbons and pleats and flowers.” The little girl sweetly replies, “Thank you, Preacher. But Mama says it’s a bitch to iron.” You see what I’m saying?
DINAH. Yeah, the preacher should’ve smacked the brat with the foul mouth.
SHEREE. (To Lexie.) And that’s why Auntie Dinah’s never invited to go to church with me and my children. (The phone rings in the kitchen and she exits to get it.)
VERNADETTE. No, the story has a moral: Making something beautiful is hard work, a real labor of love. We should be grateful Lexie cares enough about this junk to do it for us. (Picks up an hors d’oeuvre.) I mean, look at this. I bet it tastes… (Puts it in her mouth and freezes. She tries not to chew or swallow.) Sheree made these, didn’t she?
LEXIE. She sure did. And I would’ve stopped you if you hadn’t referred to my fine things as “junk.”
DINAH. (Offers her the plant.) Do it. (Vernadette spits into the plant.)
SHEREE. (Enters from the kitchen.) Jeri Neal’s just made it over the bridge. I told her we’ll decide where to eat as soon as she gets here.
DINAH. Well, wherever we go, tonight’s on me.
SHEREE. No, you don’t. You treat us all the time.
DINAH. We’re celebrating. Because you are looking at the only woman on the legal team that just won the fourth largest settlement ever awarded in the State of Georgia.
LEXIE. Oh, yeah. She is so buying my supper tonight.
VERNADETTE. And if we happen to pass a used car lot and you’re still feeling generous, don’t hold back.
SHEREE. Way to go, Dinah. Well, since we’re sharing good news… my darling Eliza was named captain of her school swim team.
LEXIE. Ah, the apple doesn’t float far from the tree.
SHEREE. And my son, Trent, is now my assistant at the Y. And their grandfather couldn’t be more proud.
LEXIE. Oh, that is fantastic. How old is Coach now?
SHEREE. Seventy-three and doing great. He said to tell all y’all “hello” and that we’re still the very best swim team he ever trained.
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DINAH. Tell that father-in-law of yours we couldn’t agree more. (Gives Sheree and Lexie martinis.)
LEXIE. Okay. I have news, too. (Dramatically.) And I don’t mean to darken the mood, but I wanted to tell you in person…I’m getting a divorce.
VERNADETTE. (Beat.) Well, whadda ya know? Dinah, hit me with a little more of that happy-juice.
DINAH. You think I need to pull back on the vermouth?
SHEREE. Oh, no. And I wish I’d remembered to bring some of those pistachio stuffed olives to—
LEXIE. Now, just hold on a minute! I’ve given y’all some very important, life-altering news and I want to talk about it. (Sheree, Dinah and Vernadette sigh simultaneously.)
VERNADETTE. Well, you have been married three years. That’s kind of your limit, isn’t it?
SHEREE. Lex, honey, she’s right. Remember, we did go through this with you and Randall.
DINAH. And then you and Clayton.
VERNADETTE. And now you and Troy.
LEXIE. I have been holding onto this news for weeks so I could turn to my closest friends to help me work through the pain. After all, aren’t we supposed to be here for one another? Vernadette, don’t we get you through every disaster that comes up?
VERNADETTE. Just the ones I tell you about. The really bad ones I only share with Ma. Now that she’s in the coma, she’s not nearly so judgmental.
LEXIE. Dinah, we helped you with the decision to switch law firms ten years ago. And Sheree…well, if there ever was anything you couldn’t figure out in your perfect life, we’d talk you through that, too. I mean, why else do we come here if it isn’t to give each other advice and not wear bras for three days?
DINAH. She’s right. We should be supportive. Let me give it a shot: Lexie, Troy was a rat. You deserve better. (Then.) Sorry, that’s all I’ve got.
LEXIE. That’s it?! Where’s the hand-holding? Where’s the shoulder
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to cry on? Don’t you understand? I gave that man the thinnest years of my life.
SHEREE. Honey, you know we care. But you’ll bounce back. You always do.
LEXIE. Well…the truth is…I do have my eye on a certain someone. He is exquisite, a god among men. Unfortunately, his wife feels the same way and if she weren’t my boss, the situation might hold more promise.
DINAH. Okay, now stop. That’s exactly why we can’t talk about your men problems. It would suck up all our time.
SHEREE. Not to mention our will to live.
LEXIE. Perhaps if you’d had more experience with men, Dinah, you’d be a little more sympathetic.
SHEREE. She’s had men…a few.
DINAH. Honestly, a few less than a few.
VERNADETTE. Probably ’cause you scare ’em. Remember back in college when Coach had us compete against the guys from Antioch? You swam against that guy you had a crush on and creamed him in the breaststroke. And if that wasn’t a big enough blow to his ego, you told him, “Hey, don’t think of it as losing. Think of it as having been beaten by a girl.”
DINAH. Okay, so I’m aggressive. That’s what makes me a good lawyer.
LEXIE. Maybe you need to soften your nature. I mean, sure, sometimes aggression is fun in the bedroom, but you’ll never get a man in there if you don’t make yourself more approachable. Time’s a-wastin,’ Dinah. A good man is hard to find, and now even the mediocre ones are getting scarce.
DINAH. So after I’ve softened and marinated myself appropriately, how do I snare this elusive prize?
LEXIE. You go to some of those high-end networking socials for business professionals. Our catering department hosts them all the time at the hotel. Wear something sexy, wait until a cute guy breaks away from the herd, then sidle up to him and say, (Lowers the neckline of her sundress and performs in an ultra-seductive attitude.) “I don’t know what I find harder to believe, that I’m attending a singles social,
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or that someone with eyes as beautiful as yours could actually be single.” (The girls howl at her performance.)
DINAH. Oh, God, I hope I’m never that desperate.
VERNADETTE. If I had used a come-on like that on Burl, he would’ve stroked out before I got him off the barstool. Speaking of which, I wanted to thank you for all the sympathy calls when Burl left me. And I really want to thank you for all the sympathy calls when he came back.
SHEREE. So, what was Burl’s reason for leaving this time?
VERNADETTE. Same as every time. He says he can’t handle my PMS. I told him to get over it, it’s natural. It’s even referenced in the Bible.
LEXIE. PMS is mentioned in the Bible?
VERNADETTE. KJV. Right there in black and white: “Mary rode Joseph’s ass all the way to Bethlehem.”
LEXIE. Jeri Neal said she was praying for you and Burl. Do you think that helped?
DINAH. Not as much as another martini will. Let me top you off, Vern.
VERNADETTE. I’m at your mercy, Counselor.
SHEREE. Maybe we should wait for Jeri Neal—
DINAH. Sister Mary Esther.
SHEREE. Come on, we don’t have to use her convent name except at church functions.
LEXIE. Oh, it’s probably good that we’re getting the sex talk out of the way before she gets here. I mean, haven’t any of you ever felt a little funny talking about your intimacies in front of a nun?
SHEREE. We’ve always been able to talk about anything with Jeri Neal. She’s the most non-judgmental woman I know. Besides, I don’t think of her as a nun. She’s our friend, our teammate.
DINAH. And our own little ray of sunshine. I have always wondered how anyone can be that sweet and innocent.
VERNADETTE. Believe me, she is. I’ve seen the woman genuflect when she buys a jar of Miracle Whip.
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SHEREE. What does it matter? We love Jeri Neal. But she has been hard to reach lately. When she called just now, that’s the first time I’ve actually spoken to her in months.
LEXIE. I haven’t talked to her in forever.
SHEREE. She says she has big news.
LEXIE. Well, she’d better get here and tell it if we’re going to get our first group swim in before— (A car horn is heard outside.)
SHEREE. (Runs to the screen door.) She’s here!
DINAH. So, Sister Mary Esther has big news. Five bucks says the boiler at the convent broke. We could be in for some titillating dinner conversation, girls.
VERNADETTE. I bet ten she’s been fast-tracked to Mother Superior.
LEXIE. No, I bet she’s going to Rome for an audience with the Pope. (Jeri Neal McFeeley, mid-forties, enormously pregnant and dressed in beach-appropriate maternity wear, enters.)
JERI NEAL. Hi, girls!
VERNADETTE. (To Dinah.) All bets are off.
LEXIE. (Chatters non-stop.) Why, Jeri Neal, it’s so good to see you, we just never thought you’d get here and look at that cute little top you’re wearing there’s just a glow about you probably from driving all that way in the heat (To the others, without stopping.) she’s pregnant, isn’t she?!
JERI NEAL. Eight months and counting. (Beat. Everyone stares at her open-mouthed.) So…anybody going to say anything?
DINAH. Looks like they’ve relaxed at least one of the rules at the convent.
VERNADETTE. Oh, honey. Not even Miracle Whip’s going to get you out of this one.
LEXIE. Jeri Neal, what have you done?
SHEREE. We know what she’s done, what we want to know is who she did it with.
JERI NEAL. Okay, so now you know my big news, and I’ve left the convent.
DINAH. Naturally, we’d expect one to follow the other.
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JERI NEAL. Good, that’s out of the way. Now, I’m starving. Where are we going for dinner?
LEXIE. Oh, no, no, no, no. This isn’t like you’ve just changed your hair color. Start explaining, Sister Mary Esther Hot Pants.
JERI NEAL. Can I get something to drink first?
SHEREE. Sure. But don’t tell any of the good stuff ’til I get back. (Races into the kitchen.)
JERI NEAL. (Calls.) Oh, I never would. Granny McFeeley always said, “Don’t strike the match ’til you got all your kindlin’ in the stove.” (Then.) Ooh, that looks good. (Reaches for an hors d’oeuvre.)
DINAH and LEXIE. (Lexie grabs her hand.) No!!!
VERNADETTE. We can’t let you do that to the baby.
JERI NEAL. Oh. Sheree, right?
SHEREE. (Hurries in with a martini glass of milk.) Here we go. Now, start talking.
JERI NEAL. Well…Y’all remember how I’d gotten the calling right after graduation? Guess what? I got another one.
LEXIE. Darlin’, we are not Catholic. You’ll have to walk us through this.
JERI NEAL. Okay. One day I was working at the shelter and a mommy asked me to hold her baby while she fed her two-year-old. When I held that tiny, little thing, I had the most incredible sensation. I looked into that baby’s eyes and it was like a jolt of electricity just shot right through me. I realized I wasn’t supposed to be a sister anymore, I’m supposed to be a mother. So, I decided to leave the convent and had myself artificially inseminated.
LEXIE. (To the others.) Isn’t that sweet? She doesn’t even know the other way’s more fun.
SHEREE. You know, you could’ve shared this with us before now.
JERI NEAL. I wanted to surprise you and there’s been so much to do. Boy howdy, leaving the Sisters and moving home to Roanoke to live with Mama has been an awful lot to handle.
VERNADETTE. You’re certainly bringing this baby in under the wire.
JERI NEAL. I know that’s going to present its own set of challenges,
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but it’s like Granny McFeeley would say, “When you change horses mid-stream, you better count on gettin’ your boots wet.”
DINAH. Your grandma was a talkative old gal, wasn’t she?
JERI NEAL. Oh, she sure was. After the chimney collapsed and that brick hit her in the head, no one could shut her up.
LEXIE. Look, Jeri Neal, if you’re happy about this, we’re happy.
JERI NEAL. I’m very happy. (Holds out her arms.) Group hug? (They do so.) Now, I don’t want this to make the weekend weird for anyone, but honestly, we’ve made so many wonderful memories here, I knew this was the only place for me to share my news with you.
SHEREE. And to that end, we’re fixin’ to kick off our weekend right. Come on. Lift ’em up, girls.
EVERYONE. (They rise, helping Jeri Neal to her feet, and lift their glasses.) The faster we swim, the sooner we win! (They take a drink.)
VERNADETTE. That still gives me a tingle after all these years.
SHEREE. It helped us win a lot of swim meets.
JERI NEAL. (Gets her purse.) Ooh, that reminds me, look what I found when I was packing my things at the convent. (Hands them a photo.) This was taken right after we won the Conference Swim Meet.
DINAH. Just look at the five of us: the Pemberton College Champion Swim Team. We were so young and beautiful!
VERNADETTE. Look at my fabulous thighs. I was gorgeous. How come I didn’t know that?
SHEREE. I think we still look pretty good.
LEXIE. Yeah. But some of us a little more than others.
JERI NEAL. And I’ve still got the medal. That was the happiest moment in my life. (Pats her stomach.) Soon to be demoted to second happiest.
VERNADETTE. Did Coach take this picture?
SHEREE. No, I remember this distinctly. It was Richie Walker; Antioch’s men’s team captain. You know, the one who put the “ohhh” in Speed-o.
JERI NEAL. Whew, Richie Walker! Now that’s a fella who could eat crackers in my bed any old time.
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DINAH. Wow, when you stop being a nun, you really stop being a nun, don’t you?
LEXIE. Hey, leave her alone. She’s got a lot of catching up to do.
JERI NEAL. But right now I’ve got to go to the bathroom. (She exits.)
VERNADETTE. (Calls after Jeri Neal.) Now, hurry, Hon’. We’ve got a busy weekend ahead that you’ll be able to tell your baby about—
(Back to the others when Jeri Neal’s out of earshot.) Oh, my God, she’s having a baby at forty-four! And she quit her job! And she’s forty-four!
LEXIE. Her body will never come back from this.
DINAH. She has no concept of how much it costs to raise a child.
SHEREE. Hold on, girls. We told Jeri Neal we support her and we’re going to make good on our word. Now, she needs this to be one of our regular weekends, so… (Gets her scheduler.) we’re going to make sure we have fun. Here’s the layout, fast and dirty: seven a.m., group swim. Then coffee, breakfast, jogging on the beach—
DINAH. Which, I assume, is optional for the pregnant or the disinterested.
SHEREE. (Ignores her.) We leave at ten o’clock and get back to the mainland for that fantastic woven art show at the County Museum. Lunch at Salty Jack’s—it’s lobster bisque day—they use real butter, no preservatives—nap at three, another group swim, cocktails and for supper we grill on the deck. Everyone got it? (Jeri Neal, unsteady on her feet, reenters from the bathroom.) How’s it going, sweetie? You feel like having supper?
JERI NEAL. Actually, I feel a little more like having a baby.
DINAH. Excuse me?
JERI NEAL. Girls… I’m in labor.
SHEREE. What?! Are you sure?
JERI NEAL. Well, I felt a little uncomfortable on the drive, but I just thought it was the burrito grandes and the chocolate shake. But now I’m positive I’m having contractions. Surprise! We’re gonna have a baby.
VERNADETTE. Jeri Neal, you cannot have a baby this weekend. LEXIE. Yeah, it’s not on Sheree’s schedule.
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JERI NEAL. I don’t think we have any say in this. So…what do I do now?
DINAH. Don’t look at me. I’m barren and Lexie’s too vain to have kids.
VERNADETTE. And when I had mine, I told the doctor to knock me out and wake me up when the kids graduated high school.
SHEREE. Okay, now everyone get a grip. We’re going to get Jeri Neal to the hospital. Vernadette, grab those throws off the couch and some pillows. Lexie, go get all the towels you can find.
LEXIE. Right, and I’ll get the Valium.
DINAH. She can’t have Valium.
LEXIE. It’s not for her. It’s for me! (Exits to the bathroom.)
SHEREE. Dinah, we’ll go in your car, it’s the biggest—
DINAH. We will not. I just had it detailed.
VERNADETTE. Forget my truck. The rope holding the passenger door on gave out just as I pulled up the drive.
SHEREE. Fine. We’ll take my car. Whose phone is charged?
LEXIE. (Reenters with way too many towels.) Mine is. I’ve got it.
SHEREE. Okay, team. Now, let’s—
JERI NEAL. (A contraction hits. She moans.) Here we go!
LEXIE. Ooh, Sheree! What do we do, what do we do?
SHEREE. (To Jeri Neal.) Now, breathe slowly and rhythmically. (Jeri Neal does so. Behind Sheree, the others join in.) Okay, girls. Let’s get to the car. (Breathing slowly, Dinah, Lexie and Vernadette help each other to the screen door.) Girls? (She turns just as Dinah, Lexie and Vernadette exit.) Oh, for heaven’s— (Another contraction hits Jeri Neal, she moans.) Okay, honey, stay calm. (Starts moving Jeri Neal slowly to the screen door.) We’re going to get you to the hospital and everything’s going to be just fine.
JERI NEAL. I’m so sorry I’ve ruined the weekend for everyone.
SHEREE. Ruined it?! Oh, no, sugar. You know all those wonderful memories we’ve made in this cottage? Well, we’ve just topped ’em all. (Sheree and Jeri Neal exit. Blackout.)
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Scene 2
Five years have passed. The women are in their late forties. It’s mid-morning and oppressively hot. Lights come up on the living room of the beach cottage. Different throw pillows on the couch, new lamps and other subtle changes suggest the passage of time. Jeri Neal is dressed in her robe and seated on the couch. Dinah, wearing tailored pajamas, paces behind the couch and sips what appears to be orange juice.
DINAH. You do realize if you get this position, you’ll have to work overtime.
JERI NEAL. Well, I wasn’t aware of that, but I guess I could.
DINAH. You “guess”? Ms. McFeeley, if you want this job, it’s either “yes” or “no.”
JERI NEAL. (Fans herself.) Do you really think they’ll talk to me like that? I mean, it wasn’t very friendly.
DINAH. Jeri Neal, you asked me to help you rehearse for job interviews. You’ve got to stay focused.
JERI NEAL. Oh, let’s be honest, nobody’s going to hire me. I don’t have any skills. All I’ve done in the last twenty-five years is cook for a bunch of nuns, take care of a baby and read Mr. Popper’s Penguins in silly voices.
DINAH. Look, there’s bound to be a good job out there for you.
JERI NEAL. If there is, it can’t be any harder than motherhood. I mean, chasing after a five-year-old boy is like trying to put socks on an octopus.
DINAH. I have wondered how you’ve been handling it.
JERI NEAL. Well, I try to take it one day at a time, but honestly, every now and then, several days sneak up and attack me all at once. (Then.) Did you ever want a kid?
DINAH. Not as much as I wanted a Mercedes. I never had the maternal instinct. Every time I got a doll for Christmas, I’d sell it to the highest bidder for cash.
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JERI NEAL. You know, I’m not so sure I’ll need you to baby-sit for Kenny any time soon…or ever, really. Ooh, I’m parched. (Takes Dinah’s drink.) I just need a little sip— (Before Dinah can stop her, she swallows and gags.) That’s not orange juice!
DINAH. Well, technically there is some orange juice in it.
JERI NEAL. It’s only nine-thirty. How can you drink in the morning?
DINAH. You’re a forty-nine-year-old former nun who’s the unemployed mother of a hyperactive preschooler. How can you not? (Sheree, dressed in her usual outfit of khaki shorts, polo shirt and white tennis shoes, enters from the hall door, fanning herself.)
SHEREE. This heat is unbelievable! I just got out of the shower and I’m already sweating.
DINAH. Well, it is August in the South. But better here than Hot-Lanta. And isn’t it a little late for you to be getting up? I thought by this time you’d have run ten miles, done a thousand squats and boiled us up some free-range prunes for breakfast.
SHEREE. (Clearly tired and on edge.) I was afraid if I came out of my room Lexie would corner me again.
DINAH. We haven’t seen her yet. Guess she’s still asleep.
SHEREE. She’s probably exhausted from keeping me up half the night. After you two abandoned me and went to bed, Lexie parked herself in my room and rehashed everything she’d already told us at dinner, which she’d already told me on the phone last week. It really put me in touch with my darker instincts.
JERI NEAL. Poor Lexie. She has such rotten luck with husbands. By the third time she’d told us how making love with Leonard had gotten so boring it made her want to jump off a cliff, I was kinda sorry she hadn’t gone ahead and done it. And I only mean that in the nicest possible way.
DINAH. This one’s name was “Leonard”? I always called him “Number Four”—makes it easier not to get attached.
JERI NEAL. Sheree, I don’t think you ought to get into it with Lexie. She’s always gonna do like she’s always gonna do. It’s like Granny McFeeley said, “Never wrestle a pig in the mud. You both get dirty and the pig enjoys it way too much.”
25
DINAH. Something tells me Mawmaw liked her a nip of moonshine.
JERI NEAL. She sure did. That little old gal could knock it back like a Merchant Marine.
DINAH. So Sheree, how did you get rid of Lexie last night?
SHEREE. I asked if that was a moustache or just the way the light was hitting her upper lip. When she ran to the bathroom to look, I locked the door.
DINAH. Pure genius. Say, would you like a screwdriver?
SHEREE. It’s a little early in the day for some of us.
DINAH. Yes, but it’s already tomorrow night in Guam. (Noticing Sheree’s scowl.) Don’t give me that disapproving team captain look. We all have our hobbies: You garden, Jeri Neal paints, Lexie stares at herself in the mirror and I enjoy the occasional cocktail. And this would be one of those occasions.
SHEREE. Well, when it’s morning in Guam, we’re cuttin’ you off. Now, have we heard from Vernadette?
JERI NEAL. No. And even with her lousy luck it’s not like her to miss an entire day of our weekend.
SHEREE. Well, if she doesn’t call in the next half hour, we’re calling her. I’ve got activities mapped out for the entire day and I need to make sure she’s going to be here to participate.
JERI NEAL. While we’re waiting, I’ll run go put on my interview suit for y’all to see.
DINAH. Jeri Neal, I bought you the perfect handbag. I got myself one just like it when I made partner. It’s in there on my suitcase.
JERI NEAL. Oh, that’s so sweet of you.
SHEREE. And… (Holds up a pair of earrings.) I brought these earrings for you to wear to your interviews. Coach gave them to me one year for my birthday.
JERI NEAL. (Takes them.) Oh, they’re gorgeous. Thank you! I’ll be very careful and make extra sure Kenny doesn’t flush this pair down the toilet. (She exits.)
DINAH. I meant to tell you, I got the nicest thank you note from Eliza. Most brides take a full year to get them out, so I figured you’d threatened to hold the family china hostage if she didn’t get on ’em.
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SHEREE. She’s an adult; she makes her own decisions. I’d be shocked if she consulted me on anything anymore.
DINAH. Okay, I’ll play. What’s wrong with you? And don’t tell me it’s nothing, because I’ve cross-examined too many hardened criminals who are far better liars than you.
SHEREE. I’m just tired from last night. Who knew we’d have to deal with another Lexie divorce-a-thon this weekend? As long as nobody else springs another surprise on us, I’ll be fine. (Vernadette enters on crutches, dressed in a clown costume without the makeup or wig. She quickly makes her way toward the bathroom.)
VERNADETTE. Hi, everyone! Where’s Jeri Neal and Lexie?
Eeeekkkk! I don’t know if I can make it! (Exits.)
SHEREE. (Beat.) Did you just see a clown on crutches hobbling toward the bathroom?
DINAH. Oh, thank God you saw it, too. I brought way too much vodka to stop drinking now.
SHEREE. What on earth could’ve happened? Nobody in her right mind would wear something that ridiculous.
JERI NEAL. (Enters in an ugly, ill-fitting suit, carrying a gorgeous handbag, wearing Sheree’s earrings.) Ta-da!
SHEREE. I spoke too soon.
JERI NEAL. Mama made it for me. What do you think?
DINAH. You look like an upholstered footstool…with fabulous accessories.
JERI NEAL. It doesn’t exactly scream “Hire Me!” does it?
SHEREE. Jeri Neal, you can’t even wear that outfit for a phone interview.
JERI NEAL. The problem is Mama’s eyesight. Ever since I caught her trying to stitch me up a pair of capri pants on the dehumidifier, I’ve been thinking her days at the Singer may be numbered.
DINAH. Do you have anything else you can wear?
JERI NEAL. Well, Lexie did bring me one of her outfits she thought might work.
SHEREE. Let’s see that one. It couldn’t be worse than this.
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JERI NEAL. Golly, it was so much easier to dress when I was a nun. (Exits to the bedroom.)
DINAH. (Goes to the bar.) Sure you wouldn’t like a little eyeopener?
SHEREE. I give. It’s probably best not to be sober for the next outfit.
VERNADETTE. (Reenters.) Girls, I apologize for being a day late and way more than a dollar short, but here I am. What’s goin’ on?
SHEREE. You first.
DINAH. And you can start with either the crutches or the clown suit, your choice.
VERNADETTE. Right. Uh…crutches: Last week, the phone rings and Eddie Mack’s been arrested. Again. So, being the model parentslash-doormat that I am, I rush to the courthouse to post bail. Again. At the top of the steps, while I’m glancing up at the statue of “Blind Justice,” I trip and bounce all the way back down to the sidewalk where I’m sideswiped by a court reporter on a Vespa. This ankle never stood a chance.
SHEREE. I guess it’s too late for me to say I’m sorry I asked, right?
VERNADETTE. You bet. Moving on: As you know, Burl’s never been a fan of the five of us getting together for our “special weekends.” So, this year he refused to “allow” me to come to the beach. When I finished laughing at him, I got in the shower to get ready. But before I had time to towel off, Burl had ransacked my closet and driven off with every stitch of clothing I own.
DINAH. And yet, the mystery of the clown suit lingers.
VERNADETTE. Well, lately I’ve been moonlighting as Toodles the Clown at kids’ parties, you know, to make extra money for little luxuries like food and electricity. And because you never know when someone’s going to need a balloon giraffe, I always keep my costume under the seat of my truck. That’s what my loving husband failed to remember.
SHEREE. You’ve put up with an awful lot from that man.
VERNADETTE. Yep, I never knew what real happiness was ’til I got married. But, by then, it was too late. Now, y’all catch me up.
DINAH. We’re getting Jeri Neal ready for her job hunt with a
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debatable amount of success and, here’s a surprise, Lexie’s getting another divorce.
SHEREE. And here’s another surprise: She won’t shut up about it.
DINAH. With each divorce she seems to get more and more bitter. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so blue. (Lexie bursts through the screen door, wearing a sexy cover-up and sporting a new hair color.)
LEXIE. (Ecstatic.) Hello, my darlings! Isn’t it absolutely the most glorious morning you can remember?
VERNADETTE. Wow. I would kill to feel that blue just once in my life.
LEXIE. Oh, my. Clown outfit. Crutches. Do I want to know?
VERNADETTE. I doubt it. It’s not about you.
LEXIE. ’kay. (She and Vernadette hug.)
DINAH. Well, your mood has certainly improved. Did a wealthy investment banker just wash up onshore?
LEXIE. Almost as good. I just met the most divine creature on the beach. He’s tall, has the most gorgeous black hair with beautiful silver touches at the temples and he has the most breathtaking physique! His arms are taut and hard, his calves fairly vibrate with power and his chest is like sculpted steel.
SHEREE. He sounds like the underside of my car.
LEXIE. Meeting him out there on the dunes just reminded me that I’m still young and sexy and beautiful and sexy and won’t have any trouble at all finding another man… Admit it, I have the neck of a thirty-year-old.
VERNADETTE. And when they find the rest of her, you’re gonna be in big trouble.
LEXIE. I paid a lot of money for this neck and I don’t think it’s very nice to poke fun at a person’s appearance. (Jeri Neal enters. She’s wearing the outfit Lexie brought for her; the neckline is too, too low, the hem is too, too high. She carries Dinah’s handbag.)
DINAH. You mean, after we finish with her, right?
JERI NEAL. Okay, everyone. What do I look like?
VERNADETTE. A hooker who stole an expensive handbag.
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SHEREE. Jeri Neal, that outfit’s not going to work, either. Don’t worry, we’ll come up with something.
LEXIE. Now, wait. This is a very chic ensemble.
DINAH. Come on, Lex. That outfit’s too young for Jeri Neal.
JERI NEAL. Hey, wait a minute. I was always taught, “Just ’cause there’s snow on the branches, don’t mean the dogwood won’t bloom in the spring.”
SHEREE. Granny McFeeley, right?
JERI NEAL. No, that was Granddaddy’s. It was the line he used to pick up women after Granny died. But it fits this situation, too. (Then.) Ooh, Vernie! Cute outfit.
VERNADETTE. Thanks. It’s what all us underpaid public school teachers are wearing these days.
JERI NEAL. Well, I bet it makes learning that much more fun for the students.
LEXIE. Vernadette, I suppose the girls have already told you my news.
VERNADETTE. Yeah, I hear another marriage bit the dust.
LEXIE. I just finally got tired of Leonard’s negative attitude and his insults. He had the nerve to tell me our relationship wasn’t working because we’re both in love with the same person. Me!
DINAH. Then you were right to leave him. Obviously he was too honest to be trusted.
LEXIE. I couldn’t agree more. But the divorce was very painful. Leonard left the courthouse with a smile on his face and all I’m left with is the house, two cars, a jet ski, some stocks and bonds and a few pieces of jewelry.
VERNADETTE. (To the others.) Tell you what, if y’all hold her down, I’ll beat her to death with my crutch.
LEXIE. Looking back, I see now I never really knew Leonard. Sure, once in a while a woman might fake an orgasm but I swear, some men are capable of faking entire relationships!
JERI NEAL. Well, just give yourself time and I know you’ll find closure.
30
LEXIE. Jeri Neal, I’ve found my closure. He’s six-foot-three and thinks I’m the cutest thing on two wheels. So run get out of my dress. I’m going to wear it to dinner with him tonight.
SHEREE. Oh, no you’re not. We only get to be here together once a year and you are not skipping out now that you’ve found some new heartthrob in flip-flops. Our friendship deserves better than that.
LEXIE. You’re one to talk. You’ve been distant, acting all preoccupied ever since we got here. I don’t know why you have to take your bad mood out on me.
SHEREE. And I don’t understand why you’re surprised your marriage ended. Leonard looked like hell at my party and told me he’d been miserable for a long time.
JERI NEAL. What party?
LEXIE. So, that’s what this is all about. You’re still mad about what happened at your birthday party.
JERI NEAL. Sheree had a birthday party?
SHEREE. (To Lexie.) Well, yes I am, now that you’ve stopped talking about yourself long enough to mention it. You almost ruined the entire evening.
JERI NEAL. Have you had other birthday parties I haven’t known about? (The fight heats up and tempers flare during the following section.)
SHEREE. Lexie, you were completely out of line and you are lying to yourself if you don’t admit it. You were falling out of your dress and flirting with every man at the party—one in particular being my husband, Carl.
VERNADETTE. Whoa! This is more dirt than we’ve had in years! Let’s burn some trash, girls! Dinah, you got any more of those screwdrivers?
DINAH. Coming up! (Goes to the bar.)
JERI NEAL. Let me get this straight, you’ve been having birthday parties all these years and everyone’s been invited…but me?
SHEREE. Jeri Neal, this is not the important issue here. It was only one birthday party and my not inviting you wasn’t a slight. I knew the amount of effort it would take for you to get to Raleigh. I only wanted to spare you the stress and expense.
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JERI NEAL. Sheree, it’s not your job to organize everybody’s life all the time. So, you made this decision and then what, you all agreed to keep this a secret from poor, pitiful Jeri Neal, the unwed mother, the nun gone bad?
VERNADETTE. You left out “hooker with a stolen handbag.”
LEXIE. For your information, Sheree Hollinger, I was neither falling out of my dress nor was I flirting! Everybody knows that’s just the way I communicate with men.
SHEREE. You licked my husband’s ear, which we all know has historically been one of your favorite tricks. In fact, Randall told Dinah that’s exactly the same stunt that broke up your marriage to him twenty years ago! (At the bar, Dinah motions for Sheree to shut up.) I’m thinking it’s high time you found a new way to “communicate” with men.
LEXIE. (Beat. She wheels on Dinah.) Randall? My Randall told you that?
SHEREE. (Realizes she’s just revealed a secret.) Uh…leave Dinah out of this. We’re discussing your inappropriate advances toward my husband, remember?
LEXIE. That can wait. Right now I’m a whole lot more interested in Dinah’s inappropriate advances toward my husband. So, Dinah, when, exactly, did you see my Randall?
DINAH. (To Sheree.) Thanks for keeping that confidence. (To Lexie.) The truth? I’ve been spending quite a bit of time with Randall since he moved back to Atlanta. And correct me if I’m wrong, but weren’t you the woman who, years ago, told me to go out there and find myself a man?
LEXIE. Yes, but I didn’t mean my man.
DINAH. Oh, please, Randall was your man two men ago!
LEXIE. Ah ha! This is exactly the same thing you did our senior year of college. When I broke up with Richie Walker, it wasn’t a week before you were throwing yourself at him.
DINAH. If all your exes were off limits, there wouldn’t be a man left in the South to date!
JERI NEAL. Sheree, not allowing me to make my own decision to
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either come to your party or decline the invitation was exclusionary, controlling and insensitive. And I’m sorry if that sounds cruel.
VERNADETTE. Wow! Now we’re gettin’ somewhere. You’re not going to take that, are you, Sheree?
LEXIE. Will you stop it, Vernadette? You haven’t got any bones to pick, so just stay out of this!
VERNADETTE. Only if you girls keep sluggin’ it out. These weekends with the four of you are the only fun I have all year. I need the entertainment.
SHEREE. We are not going to keep fighting. Lexie’s going to apologize for being a self-centered, needy jackass, and then we’re just going to let it go.
LEXIE. I am not apologizing for anything, but I am glad we’re getting things out in the open. And speaking of which, and everybody here would agree, we’re sick and tired of you ramming those horrible little hors d’oeuvres down our throats when we’re trying to have a good time!
VERNADETTE. Okay, now we’re back on track!
SHEREE. Is this true?
DINAH. Hey, you gave me up to Lexie. Hell, yes, it’s true!
LEXIE. You bring a load of your regurgitated ferret food in here every year and the minute you leave the room, we throw the whole steaming pile out the window! Haven’t you noticed the radioactive circle of scorched earth by the terrace? That’s where your nasty, healthy hors d’oeuvres go to die!
SHEREE. You throw my hors d’oeuvres out the window? Well, that’s just great! And quite a revelation after twenty-seven years of friendship!
LEXIE. Well, it’s obvious to me even if no one else wants to admit it—maybe twenty-seven years is enough!
JERI NEAL. (Shouts.) Wait! Calm down! Everyone, just stop it right now! (Beat.) What are we doing? For heaven’s sake, we’ve been friends more than half our lifetimes. I look at you and see the eighteen-year-olds I met at the pool that day in Winston-Salem. What happened to “the faster we swim, the sooner we win”? Is anything we’re fighting about really so important?
33
DINAH. (Long beat. Then.) Of course not.
JERI NEAL. And if it’s not that important, then why are we risking our friendship over it? I don’t want to, do you, Lexie?
LEXIE. (Softly.) No.
JERI NEAL. I can’t hear you.
LEXIE. (Louder.) I said no, I don’t want to lose this. Our friendship is the one sure thing I’ve always had to hold onto.
VERNADETTE. Aside from the house, two cars and the jet ski?
LEXIE. Well, there is that…and the jewelry.
SHEREE. Jeri Neal’s right. I say let’s all just drop it and start over. Okay?
LEXIE. Of course…just as soon as Dinah promises never to see Randall again.
DINAH. Ladies, I give you Lexie Richards, a portrait in selflessness. (She wheels on Sheree.) Teach me to put my trust in the wrong person.
SHEREE. That’s not fair.
LEXIE. And who are you to decide what’s fair? You didn’t invite Jeri Neal to your party when the rest of us were there. (The fight quickly reheats.)
JERI NEAL. Vernadette made it, too? Then I really was the only one you didn’t invite. That’s just plain mean!
SHEREE. (To Lexie.) Don’t you think you’ve done enough damage?
VERNADETTE. Yeah, even I don’t need this much entertainment.
DINAH. (To Sheree.) Lexie’s done no more than you have by betraying my confidence!
LEXIE. So, you admit it! You two plotted to keep this a secret from me! Do you and Randall spend leisurely weekends with Sheree and Carl and laugh at me over cocktails? Well, do you? You do, don’t you? I know you do.
SHEREE. Lexie, will you please stop it! You are not the center of the universe! It’s not all about you! We have lives, too. Things happen to us that are just as earth-shattering and I’m going to be a grandmother and I just can’t stand it!
VERNADETTE. (Beat.) Did you just say what I think you did?
34
DINAH. You’re going to be a…grandmother?
JERI NEAL. Why did you wait ’til now to tell us?
LEXIE. What do you mean, it’s not all about me?
SHEREE. It’s just that…I can’t wrap my mind around it. Trent’s only been married a year and all of a sudden he calls and tells us he and Pam are having a baby? How could they do that?
VERNADETTE. With me and Burl, it always started with a six pack—
SHEREE. That’s not what I’m talking about. I mean, I’m just not ready for this.
DINAH. But you’ve always said you couldn’t wait to be a grandmother.
SHEREE. I didn’t mean it! That’s just something you say to reassure other people that the horror of raising children hasn’t soured you on the perpetuation of the human race.
VERNADETTE. I’ve never felt as close to you as I do at this very moment.
SHEREE. Of course I told my son I was thrilled, but I’m not, and you’re the only ones who can know it. I didn’t plan on being a grandmother for at least another five to seven years. I’m not even fifty yet. It’s just too soon. It makes me feel…old.
JERI NEAL. Oh, Sheree, honey, you are old.
SHEREE. What?!
JERI NEAL. I mean, compared to a newborn baby you’re old. But then, there was Noah who lived to be nine hundred and fifty which is really, really old. So, compared to him, I guess forty-nine is still kind of young. Of course, no one actually lives to be nine hundred and fifty anymore, so that puts you right back into the “old” category, doesn’t it?
LEXIE. Well, I positively refuse to give in to age, no matter what has to be sucked, tucked, lasered or lifted. And my advice to you, Sheree, is if you’re ever caught in public with that grandbaby, you swear on a stack of Southern Living magazines that it is your very own child.
DINAH. Well, now we know why you’ve been in such a weird mood since you got here.
35
SHEREE. Well, it’s not just that. (Beat.) Coach isn’t doing so great. I take him to the doctor almost every week now and Carl’s having a terrible time watching his dad get so frail. It’s just so hard to watch what age is doing to him. We all started out as athletes and this is what we have to look forward to? Is this really the reward for living a healthy life?
VERNADETTE. Bingo! When I realized exercise, vitamins and fresh air only added years to the end of your life when you’re slumped in a wheelchair, gummin’ tapioca anyway, I gave up. That’s when I traded in my treadmill for stretch pants and a deep fat fryer.
DINAH. Face it, girls. Aging’s no day at the spa. Inside, I still feel like I’m twenty years old, but sometimes when I pick up my martini, a middle-aged woman’s hand is holding the glass and I can’t believe it’s mine. Although, the more I drink, the younger that hand starts to look.
LEXIE. And that is the most terrifying reality. I cannot tell you how many plastic surgeons have assured me there is no viable age-reversal procedure for the hands. These (Looks at her hands.) are the only dead-giveaway that I’m not really in my early thirties.
DINAH. (Turns to Vernadette.) Don’t you wish we’d drowned her in the deep end back when we had the chance?
JERI NEAL. We’re not gonna beat aging. But we can help each other through it. Hey, we’re still a team.
SHEREE. Guess it’s just like the weekend we had to compete against the squad from Joslyn U. We didn’t have a prayer against the state champs, but we did our best and had one helluva good time anyway.
DINAH. And that’s exactly what we’re doing now.
SHEREE. There is comfort in that.
DINAH. Look, the news just took you by surprise and threw your little schedule off by a few years. But the truth is, you’re going to be a terrific grandmother and you’re going to love it. And you’ll bore us to tears with pictures of that grandkid.
SHEREE. I’ll make sure you’re the first one to get a copy. (Then.) I’m sorry for all the things I said.
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JERI NEAL. Me, too.
DINAH. So am I.
JERI NEAL. And since we don’t get that much time together, let’s not waste any more of it. We’re through fighting. Okay, Lex?
LEXIE. All right. I’m sorry for what I said, too. And I will cancel my dinner date so we can all be together…which is going to be very hard for me…considering I can’t seem to remember the guy’s name.
VERNADETTE. Look, I didn’t just jeopardize my happy marriage and drive all the way from Spivey’s Corner in August in a clown suit to have a pity party with all you old women. Let’s go do something fun to celebrate this hellish heat.
SHEREE. Well, how about a group swim?
DINAH. I’m in. Everyone get up, let’s go! (She starts unbuttoning her pajama top.)
LEXIE. Hold on! We need to run go get our swimsuits.
DINAH. (Sassy.) Who said anything about wearing swimsuits? (No one can believe she’s serious. They all look at Sheree. Beat.)
SHEREE. Last one in has to wear Depends! (She kicks off her shoes and exits out the screen door with a holler and tosses her polo shirt back inside. With much laughing and squealing and taking off shoes and unbuttoning shirts, Lexie and Dinah run out the screen door.)
JERI NEAL. (Following after them.) Oh, please, Lord, don’t let anyone be out there with a camera. (Crosses herself and exits out the screen door.)
VERNADETTE. (Hobbles to the screen door as fast as she can on her crutches, dodging flying clothes.) Hey, wait! One of y’all’s gotta rub sunscreen on my butt! (Exits. Blackout.)
End of Act One
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ACT TWO
Scene 1
Five years later. The women are now in their fifties. It’s night at the beach cottage. The living room has changed only slightly in the time that has passed—a new chair or table, different colored draperies. Jeri Neal, five years older and dressed like someone ten years younger, quickly straightens up the living room as she talks on her cell phone.
JERI NEAL. …Brice, honey, I’ve got it. You’re going to call if the Storm Center says the hurricane is turning… What?… Stop… No, Brice! I mean it. I can’t talk sexy to you right now. One of the girls could walk in. Tell you what, (Unseen, Vernadette enters from the kitchen, her hair now streaked with gray, wearing a neck brace, carrying a baggie of cookies.) when I get home we can play our favorite game, TV Cameraman and the Naughty Weather Girl. (Sexy laugh.) Okay. Bye, sweetheart. (Hangs up, then realizes she’s not alone.) Umm… Vernadette, did we bring these playing cards or were they here?
VERNADETTE. They came with the cottage, “Weather Girl.”
JERI NEAL. Look, I know it’s against the weekend rules to be taking all these phone calls, but Brice is really concerned about this storm… and, besides, I miss him. It’s the first time we’ve been apart since we got married.
VERNADETTE. Trust me, it gets a whole lot easier.
JERI NEAL. So, are you through in the kitchen?
VERNADETTE. Almost. And here are all the leftover cookies for you to take to Kenny.
JERI NEAL. Good heavens, the last thing Kenny needs is more sugar. He’s so high-energy, I couldn’t have made it this year without that trampoline Dinah bought him. Sometimes I feel a little guilty
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when all the other mothers are calling their kids in to go to bed and I’m hollering, “Keep jumping, baby! Don’t even think about coming in ’til you’re good and tired!”
VERNADETTE. Look, nobody knows better than me that raising children is hard. If you’ve found a way of controlling your kid without having to sic a pack of snarling dogs on him, I say keep a-goin’.
JERI NEAL. Hey, we all know you did your best with your kids.
VERNADETTE. I think so too. Eddie Mack didn’t get to be Inmate of the Month because I dropped the ball. And if we could find the cult Zandra disappeared into this year, she might even be able to squeeze out a good memory or two.
JERI NEAL. So if you had to do it all over again, you’d still have kids?
VERNADETTE. Oh, sure. Just not the same ones. (We hear the sound of wind against the cottage.)
JERI NEAL. Golly, listen to that. (Sheree steps in through the hall door. She wears khaki trousers, white polo shirt and tennis shoes. Reading glasses hang from a lanyard around her neck.)
SHEREE. I just heard on the radio the storm’s gaining strength, but it’s still not moving. So, I’m going to finish packing all our suitcases in case we have to evacuate. (She exits to the bedrooms.)
VERNADETTE. I’m surprised she didn’t check to make sure we’re all wearing clean underwear.
JERI NEAL. If the storm turns, you think water can get all the way up here to the cottage?
VERNADETTE. Great, you just had to mention water. (She races toward the bathroom.) Eek! Hope I can make it. (She exits. Dinah and Lexie enter through the screen door. Dinah has become an elegant older woman and Lexie, ever youthful, has a noticeably enhanced bust size.)
DINAH. I’m telling you, a slipknot won’t hold in a strong wind. All that deck furniture’s going to end up in Nags Head.
LEXIE. Will you just trust me on this? I’ve dated enough yachtsmen to know my way around knots. And if I can’t get out of ’em in a fit of passion, it’ll take more than a gale force wind to loosen ’em up.
DINAH. Only you could work kinky sex into hurricane preparedness.
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JERI NEAL. (Low, to Lexie.) I need to ask you a few questions before I go home to Brice, okay?
LEXIE. (Brushing herself off.) Aw, shoot. I’ve got sand in my bosom.
JERI NEAL. That’s what they’re using now? Well, I guess it does make sense, it’s cheaper and there’s plenty of it. But I bet you have to be really careful when you take a shower. Sand gets pretty clumpy when it’s wet.
LEXIE. What are you talkin’ about? I do not have sand in my breasts.
DINAH. Of course she doesn’t. To get breasts that size, they have to use lots of high-grade silicone, which also certifies her as a flotation device.
LEXIE. Okay, three years of listening to catty remarks about my breast enhancement is sufficient.
VERNADETTE. (Reenters, removing her neck brace and massaging her neck.) Which is why we’re thrilled you’ve just had a fanny lift. We can get at least two years of ridicule out of that. Unless it bothers you, then we can all just butt out. (Vernadette, Dinah and Jeri Neal laugh. Sheree reenters.)
SHEREE. Well, I’m glad y’all are able to stand around and enjoy a good laugh while I’m in there frantically getting things organized in case we have to make a run for it.
DINAH. You’re absolutely right. We should all be doing more to get ready. So, who wants a martini?
VERNADETTE. Ooh, good idea. It’s just what we need to wash down the biscuits.
SHEREE. What biscuits?
VERNADETTE. The ones I’m fixin’ to pull out of the oven. There’s a storm nipping at our heels and that says only one thing to me: Biscuits.
SHEREE. Vernadette Simms, there is a Category Two hurricane sitting off the coast threatening to blow us all the way to the Piedmont. This is no time to eat.
JERI NEAL. Sheree, honey, try to relax about the weather. Brice will call if anything changes. Now, let’s just enjoy our time in case the weekend gets cut short.
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SHEREE. Relax?! I’m in there making sure everyone’s got an emergency kit and Vernadette’s rolling out biscuit dough?
VERNADETTE. Well, excuse me, but that’s how I respond to danger. Some animals spit venom. Some roll themselves into balls and play dead. I consume large quantities of freshly baked fluffy mounds of fat.
SHEREE. But, Vernadette, biscuits? I just read in The New York Times that biscuits are one of the worst foods you can put into your system. Do you have any idea how many grams of fat are in a two point seven ounce biscuit? And the article said the number of carbs is unbelievable. At our age, biscuits have no place in our diets, much less our lives.
VERNADETTE. Alright, that’s it. That is it!! I’m gonna have to clarify something the tofu has obviously leached from your good sense. Biscuits are the ultimate comfort food, so fat and carbs do not count. They’re what I ate when I was sick or lonely and when company came to dinner and after we opened our presents on Christmas morning. My mama made them, and her mama before her and my great grandmama before her and I bet the same can be said for every one of us in this room. The New York Times is not going to take away this Southern girl’s biscuits!
SHEREE. Vernadette, just calm down—
VERNADETTE. Oh, we are waaay past the time for calm. You and your Times-readin’, sprout-eatin’ kind need to wake up. People who don’t give a damn about our traditions or our way of life are paving over our farms and building suburbs and coffee bars and super centers that suck the life out of every main street in every small town. And they won’t stop until they’ve made this country one big, homogenous, soulless blur. Well, I’m not going to be quiet about it anymore. They can take away our beauty pageants, they can laugh at us for using the word “y’all,” they can even bulldoze our magnolias. But as long as there is music in Memphis, as long as a peanut grows in Georgia, as long as I am alive and can remember the South of my childhood, there will be biscuits on my table! And the day I stop eatin’ ’em will be the day they pry ’em out of my cold, dead Southern hands! (She exits into the kitchen. Beat.)
DINAH. Sheree, just eat the damn biscuits.
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LEXIE. Well, in Sheree’s defense, that took me by surprise, too. Vernadette’s been on edge since she got here.
JERI NEAL. Things are going pretty badly for her right now. I mean even more so than usual.
SHEREE. I’m sure the accident didn’t help. Only Vernadette could lose an insurance settlement because the adjustor couldn’t tell if her beat-up, old truck had been hit or not.
DINAH. I think it’s not being able to find Zandra that’s really got her down. I even put one of my investigators on it. But whatever group Zandra’s glommed onto this time has really covered her tracks. And whoever she’s worshipping now—mystics, meerkats, Meryl Streep—I just hope she’s happy.
LEXIE. Oh, we haven’t seen the last of Zandra. Her cult du jour will send her home when they get sick and tired of her whining. They always do.
VERNADETTE. (Reenters with a tray of biscuits, honey and coffee mugs.) Okay, girls. Get ’em while they’re hot. Now, who wants a biscuit? (Dinah nudges Sheree.)
SHEREE. I’ll take one.
VERNADETTE. Good answer. Who else? (Everyone reaches for a biscuit. Sheree, Lexie and Jeri Neal take a coffee mug. Dinah gives Vernadette a martini.) That’s the spirit! Dig in. Let’s show that HDL who’s in charge.
LEXIE. (Takes a bite.) Mm-mm-mm, this is some kind of fine. At the hotel we go through pastry chefs like sauce through a sick cat and not a one of ’em can make a biscuit half this good.
SHEREE. (Takes a bite.) Mmm. This is exactly what I feared would happen. Now, how am I supposed to eat sprouted barley cakes after tasting this?
VERNADETTE. You’re not. So put on your fat pants and embrace your heritage.
JERI NEAL. This is nice. It reminds me of when we’d celebrate after a meet. We’d pig out on Pop Tarts in Sheree’s dorm room. And here we are, still eating and celebrating.
DINAH. Hey, you’ve got the biggest reason to celebrate this year.
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JERI NEAL. It was a beautiful wedding, wasn’t it?
SHEREE. It was perfect. And I was really pleased so many of your friends from the convent came.
JERI NEAL. Trust me, nobody loves a wedding like the Sisters. Those old gals really know how to party down.
LEXIE. I never dreamed nuns would be so talkative! They absolutely did not leave me alone even for a minute so I never got to spend any time with that darling bridegroom of yours. Ooh, I’ve got honey all over my fingers. (She exits into the kitchen.)
JERI NEAL. (Low, to the others.) I made the Sisters swear they’d keep Lexie’s tongue as far away as possible from Brice’s ear.
SHEREE. (Low.) Smart girl.
DINAH. Jeri Neal, you never told us about your honeymoon.
JERI NEAL. Oh, it was wonderful! Brice made sure I finally got to see the Vatican. And then we went to Florence and Venice. The only surprise was getting hit on so often. Turns out Italian men find women of a certain age to be very desirable.
VERNADETTE. That settles it. Y’all chip in for my airfare and we’ll meet in Rome next August.
SHEREE. But what we really want to know is, what’s it like being married to a younger man? (Cat calls from the others.)
LEXIE. (Reenters with a cloth.) Oh, yes. Do tell. We’re dying to know.
JERI NEAL. Well…I always dreamed about having a passionate, active love life…I mean, not while I was a nun, of course, but after…when it was, you know, okay to dream about things like that. Anyway, I thought raising a child was tiring, but it’s nothing compared to entering the bedroom Olympics with a man in his forties. (More cat calls.)
LEXIE. Way to go, Sister Mary Esther!
VERNADETTE. You know, I’m not entirely sure I’ve had a sex life, but those two deadbeats I raised had to have come from somewhere. Although I do remember Burl getting up from the couch once, maybe twice in the last thirty years. That’s bound to have been when it happened, right?
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DINAH. Hey, Sheree, what about you old married couples? Do you ease up on the throbbin’ hot love after you’ve been together a few years?
SHEREE. Carl and I haven’t. We make love almost every night. (Her friends all go into silent shock. Long beat. Then everyone except Sheree laughs.)
LEXIE. You really had us there for a second.
DINAH. Yeah. Every night, my foot.
SHEREE. I wasn’t kidding. (The women go silent again. Then:)
VERNADETTE. Jeri Neal, get me a pen and some paper, quick. Sheree, tell us everything we need to know.
SHEREE. Guess my staying in shape and eating all that healthy food doesn’t seem quite so foolish now, does it?
LEXIE. I may be calling you to remind me what a love life is like… since I may never have one again.
SHEREE. I really thought this marriage was going to work out for you, Lex. Phillip seemed so devoted to you.
VERNADETTE. You know, that’s the problem with husbands. They’re always saying they’ll die for you, but they never do.
DINAH. It really did seem like the perfect match. Come on, you and a cosmetic surgeon? We thought you’d hit the jackpot.
LEXIE. Oh, please. Cosmetic surgeons think they’re gods. The man was so egotistical, he screamed out his own name in bed.
JERI NEAL. Well, I thought Phillip was very nice.
LEXIE. Nice? The jerk announced he was divorcing me while he was removing the stitches from my fanny lift. There I was, flat on my face and he didn’t even have the nerve to look me in the eye.
DINAH. Oh, how I hope that image is not seared into my memory.
LEXIE. So, here I am, a string of divorces behind me and I don’t know what I’m supposed to be hoping for. I know it’s hard to imagine when you look at me, girls, but I’m just not sure I can compete in the dating scene any longer. And although I can’t stand the thought, I have to finally admit it… I’m not young anymore.
VERNADETTE. Welcome to the club. We meet here every August.
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SHEREE. (To Lexie.) So, you’re fifty-four and single. This could be the start of something wonderful that you’ve never even considered. Something that, unbelievable as it may seem, doesn’t involve a man. Let life surprise you. Look at me. Who knew I’d enjoy being a grandmother so much?
DINAH. I told you you’d love it, Granny.
SHEREE. Everyone’s entitled to be wrong once. And I made copies of Carlee’s new pictures and put them in your suitcases when I packed you up.
LEXIE. You’ve packed our suitcases?
DINAH. After all these years, wouldn’t you have been more surprised if she hadn’t?
VERNADETTE. Well, since we’re on the subject, I guess this is a good time for me to tell you… I’m going to be a grandmother, too.
JERI NEAL. Oh, that’s…wonderful?
VERNADETTE. Yes, it was a positive DNA match. Seems right before Eddie Mack left for another stay in the Big House, he found a minute to knock up his parole officer. She’s suing us for child support. It’s almost more happiness than Burl and I can stand, but I guess it really is all about leaving a legacy. (Beat.)
LEXIE. Your life is just one endless country song, isn’t it?
VERNADETTE. Yep. And the hits just keep on coming.
SHEREE. Speaking of which, I’m just so sorry about your house.
DINAH. Even with your luck, none of us could’ve imagined lightning would strike your home and burn it to the ground.
VERNADETTE. Yeah, but on the bright side, I’m never gonna have to vacuum that dump again. (The lights flicker.)
SHEREE. Good heavens! I wonder if that means the storm is moving toward us.
LEXIE. Oh, I don’t want to lose our Sweet Delilah to a hurricane. After all these years, this cottage feels like another member of our team.
JERI NEAL. I know. I can’t bear to think of us saying goodbye to this place on top of all our other losses this last year—my mom and then Randall.
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LEXIE. (She puts her arm around Dinah.) That guy sure had good taste in women, huh?
DINAH. He sure did.
JERI NEAL. And then we lost Coach.
SHEREE. You know, one of the last things Coach told me before he died was how proud he was that we’ve kept our team together all these years.
LEXIE. Wouldn’t he have gotten a kick out of it when the kids who were carrying his casket out of old Pemberton Gym slipped and almost dumped the thing into the pool?
VERNADETTE. That was a hoot. And it’s a funny thing to say about a funeral, but I think everyone who came had a real good time.
DINAH. It was the perfect send off. We really did Coach proud.
SHEREE. (Lifts her coffee mug.) Raise your glasses, girls. Absent friends.
DINAH, LEXIE, VERNADETTE and JERI NEAL. Absent friends. EVERYONE. The faster we swim, the sooner we win! (Jeri Neal’s phone rings.)
JERI NEAL. (She answers.) Brice?… Really?… (To the girls.) The hurricane’s turned toward us and it’s moving and they’re going to evacuate the Outer Banks. (Into the phone.) We’re all packed and ready to go…
SHEREE. Vernadette, you and Lex get these dishes back into the kitchen. (They get started.) If we get out now before the warning siren is activated, we’ll beat the bottleneck at the bridge. (Exits into the hall and drags out three suitcases into the living room.)
JERI NEAL. (Into phone.) We’re leaving right now. Tell Kenny I’ll call y’all once I’m in the car. Bye, punkin’. I love you both.
SHEREE. Everyone get your keys and don’t forget your suitcases. Now, listen to me: The evacuation route is easy. Just head North on Twelve, then West on Sixty-Four or North on One Fifty-Eight at Whalebone Junction. I’ve put a copy of this in each of your emergency kits, in case you forget. Now, everyone go! I’ll close up the house.
LEXIE. Sheree, I take back every hateful thing I’ve ever said behind your back about your obsession with organization.
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JERI NEAL. I don’t know if I can see these directions in the dark.
VERNADETTE. (Gets into her neck brace.) Me, either, and in this thing, I can’t be bending over trying to read.
DINAH. Sheree, you’re going to have to lead Jeri Neal and Vernadette out. I’m riding with Lexie and we’ll be fine. (She exits into the bedroom.)
SHEREE. We’re not leaving you two here—
LEXIE. It’s okay, I’m dropping Dinah off at RDU anyway. Maybe she can catch an earlier flight to Atlanta. Now, we’ll just close the windows, lock the doors and we’re out. Y’all are wasting time, now go! Go!
SHEREE. Uh…okay. But everyone calls each other when we get home, okay? (Rummages in her purse.) Where are my distance glasses?
JERI NEAL. Oh, shoot! We only got in one group swim.
SHEREE. Well, if the bridge washes out before we make it across, we might get in another one.
VERNADETTE. And if we do go into the drink, everyone just grab hold of Lexie and hang on ’til the Coast Guard finds us. (Dinah reenters with the last two suitcases. Everyone exchanges a quick hug and Sheree, Vernadette and Jeri Neal exit. Dinah picks up her martini glass and casually sits on the couch.)
LEXIE. (Turns to Dinah.) What are you doing?
DINAH. There’s never an emergency so dire that it can’t wait ’til I get to the bottom of my glass. Besides, we’re already packed. Even if we wait to leave until the siren sounds, we’re way ahead of everyone else.
LEXIE. (Sighs deeply.) So, how’d I do?
DINAH. I think you did great, considering the circumstances.
LEXIE. I appreciate you keeping my secret. I just needed this weekend to be as normal as possible, and if they knew what’s really going on with me, that’s all we would’ve talked about.
DINAH. (Teasing.) Why, you don’t know how this touches my heart. This is the first time in memory you haven’t wanted to be the center of attention. I do believe our own little Lexie Richards is growing up.
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LEXIE. You know, I never dreamed I’d have to face something like this alone. Of course, it would happen when I’m between husbands. And I guess this is what I get for not having kids.
DINAH. I didn’t know you regretted not having children.
LEXIE. I don’t. Lord, Dinah, I’m way too selfish to have even considered diverting my attention to a child. But, you know, facing this, I kinda wish I had given birth to a thirty-one-year-old, fully-educated and gainfully-employed offspring.
DINAH. Yeah, if that had been one of the options, even I might’ve checked the box. (Then.) Is the surgery still scheduled for Friday?
LEXIE. Yes, and I’m dealing with that part okay. After all the nips and tucks I’ve had in my life, I’m certainly not afraid of hospitals. Isn’t it unbelievable I’ve spent so much money and time trying to get the outside of me perfect only to have it come down to what’s inside me that’s really the problem?
DINAH. It is fairly ironic.
LEXIE. The heck with irony. What steams me is that I’ve spent a fortune keeping myself looking this good. And if it’s all been just so I could die looking firm and gorgeous, then somebody up there’s gonna have a lot of explaining to do.
DINAH. Now, here’s something I’d like you to explain. When you got the diagnosis, why did you choose to call me?
LEXIE. Because you’re the least sentimental friend I have. And in this situation I need a rock. Any one of the other three girls would hover over me like a mother hen. (Beat.) Although, if you were to find yourself between cases, I certainly wouldn’t be adverse to your dropping by and visiting me in the hospital if you really want to.
DINAH. At the risk of jeopardizing my title of “least sentimental friend,” I should tell you I’d already planned to be there in the hospital with you. Every day.
LEXIE. But how can you arrange that with your schedule?
DINAH. Well, you’re not the only one with a secret this weekend. I have one, too. I left the firm a couple of weeks ago.
LEXIE. What?! But your career is everything to you. This doesn’t sound like you at all.
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DINAH. No, this is more like me than I’ve been in a long time. See, when Randall died, I put in hundreds of hours of overtime, took cases I had no interest in just so I wouldn’t have to think about my life. Then two weeks ago, I was cross-examining a witness and raised my hand to make a point, and somehow my watchband got tangled in my pearls.
LEXIE. Not your grandmother’s pearls.
DINAH. No, the ones I bought when I was in Bora Bora. Anyhow, the strand broke and all I remember is watching the pearls drop to the floor one by one. I couldn’t speak or think, I just watched. It was like everything was happening in slow motion.
LEXIE. Now, were these pearls freshwater or cultured, black or white?
DINAH. (Annoyed.) White, cultured, sixteen-inch strand. Just try to follow me here, okay? The next thing I knew, I was in the judge’s chambers with paramedics standing over me. My assistant told me I’d crawled around the courtroom sobbing, picking up each pearl. The judge called a recess and had the bailiff carry me out.
LEXIE. You know, I’ll bet it was a weak clasp. That’s happened to me before. Was it silver or gold?
DINAH. Would you just forget about the damn necklace?! You missed the whole point of my story.
LEXIE. No I didn’t. You’ve had a life-changing experience. The pearls cascading to the floor clearly symbolized your release of the material and all the trappings of your career-driven life that are irrelevant to who and what you really are. Of course your response was to quit the firm. What else could you have done?
DINAH. (Stunned.) Wow, Lex. That was really…perceptive. That’s exactly what I felt. Geez, everytime I think I know who you are, you throw me a curve.
LEXIE. Oh, come on, Dinah, just because I’m vain and frivolous doesn’t mean I’m shallow. Beneath this gorgeous veneer runs a deep river of intelligence and understanding. I frequently mask that because it tends to scare away the more attractive men. (Then.) So, what are you gonna do now?
DINAH. I haven’t thought it through completely. Randall used to say when you turn fifty you’re closer to the final curtain than the
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overture. But I believe there’s still time to search for whatever it is I’m meant to find. Randall didn’t get that chance, so I’m going to do it for both of us.
LEXIE. Any idea where you’re going to start?
DINAH. Well, I’ve always been best when I had a project, and right now my project is to make sure my friend, Lexie Richards, lives to see another August on the Outer Banks.
LEXIE. (Beat.) They tell me I’m going to lose my hair.
DINAH. (Beat, then takes her hand.) Well, you’ve dyed and fried that mop so many times, maybe you should look on this as a fabulous opportunity to start from scratch.
LEXIE. (Laughs.) I’ll give it a try.
DINAH. And I kept your secret for the weekend but I’m telling you, Lex, you’ve got to let the rest of the team know what’s going on with you before Friday. They deserve to know.
LEXIE. You’re right. (Then.) You really think everything is going to be okay?
DINAH. Yes. We’re going to make it through this just fine. (She puts her arm around Lexie.)
LEXIE. Promise?
DINAH. Promise. (A siren bleats in the distance.) If the hurricane doesn’t get us first… (The lights flicker, the siren bleats and…Blackout.)
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Scene 2
Twenty-three years have now passed. The women are in their seventies. It’s morning and lights come up on the living room of the beach cottage. It’s almost completely empty of furniture now. The old “Sweet Delilah Cottage” sign hangs askew on the wall. The couch has a canvas tarp thrown over it, mismatched chairs sit here and there. It’s obvious the cottage is no longer in use. From the porch, we hear someone rattle the doorknob again and again.
JERI NEAL. (Calls from offstage.) I’ve just about got it…no…Yes! Come on! We’re in. (Jeri Neal enters and brushes away a cobweb. Her hair is white, she wears glasses and walks a little slower, but she’s still the perky, sunshiney gal she’s always been. She looks around the room and calls back outside.) Brace yourselves, girls. It’s not a pretty sight. (Vernadette enters more pulled together than she’s ever been. Her hair is completely silver and beautifully styled. She’s somewhat stooped and shuffles a bit, making slower progress than before.)
VERNADETTE. Well, I agree you’re no beauty queen, but you’ve probably looked worse. (She heads toward the kitchen.)
JERI NEAL. Vern? (Louder.) Vernadette?!
VERNADETTE. (Stops and turns.) Yeah?
JERI NEAL. (Loudly.) Don’t you need to go to the bathroom?
VERNADETTE. Of course I do. And quit shouting. I’m incontinent, not deaf.
JERI NEAL. But that’s the kitchen, dear.
VERNADETTE. (She studies the kitchen door.) Has it always been?
JERI NEAL. Well, it has been for the last fifty years. (Redirects her toward the hall door.) Right through there. And call if you need help, unless you want me to come with you.
VERNADETTE. No thanks. There’s only seatin’ for one. (Vernadette shuffles to the doorway and exits to the bathroom.)
JERI NEAL. (She notices the view from the picture window looking out toward the audience, then crosses to the screen door and calls.)
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Hey, come on! You’re missing the view. (The screen door opens and Lexie enters, smartly dressed, her hair dyed ash blonde. She looks quite the sexy septuagenarian.)
LEXIE. Not from where I was standing on the porch. The cutest young man in the shortest shorts you’ve ever seen just jogged by. I gave him a little wave and he waved right back. Kinda makes me want to take up jogging again.
JERI NEAL. You never cease to amaze me.
LEXIE. I was about to say the same thing to you. Where on earth did you learn to pick a lock like that?
JERI NEAL. At the convent, of course. Nuns may be known for their good works, but they’re absolutely notorious for losing their keys.
LEXIE. (Takes a long look around.) I’m just so happy to be back here, even if it is for the last time. And oh, my goodness! If these walls could talk, wouldn’t we all be in big trouble?
JERI NEAL. Well, some of us might be. Look, there’s that dent in the wall where you threw your coffee cup that morning. That must’ve been six or seven years ago.
LEXIE. Oh, yes. I prefer to remember that as the time I saved all your lives from that extraordinarily large spider. Although, as I recall, your gratitude for my heroism was underwhelming.
JERI NEAL. That’s because we were more scared of your aim than we were of the spider.
LEXIE. Hard to believe this old place will soon be gone forever.
JERI NEAL. But we never missed an August. And haven’t we been darned lucky to have had this view to ourselves for so long? (Then.) My stars! It always surprises me how hot it can get down here.
LEXIE. Oh, that reminds me. I’ve got to get Vernadette to take her jacket off before the poor thing melts.
JERI NEAL. My goodness. She even forgets to do the little things?
LEXIE. Yes. There are times when she’s almost the same, old Vernadette and in the next minute, she’ll forget my name. I do worry about how quickly her memory is going. But, considering how hard Vernadette’s life’s been, memory loss could be a real plus.
JERI NEAL. You’re an absolute angel for taking her in.
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LEXIE. She had nowhere else to go when Burl died and neither one of those kids was in any position to help her. And rather than rattle around alone in my big, ol’ house, I thought what better time to take a roommate?
JERI NEAL. Well, I can’t tell you how much I admire you for doing it.
LEXIE. Honestly, we do have such fun. I signed Vernadette up for an Aquaerobics class down at the Y. I thought it would help her to get out and be with people, but the bonus is, it gives me the chance to flirt with all those cute, retired gentlemen who congregate at the pool. Does them a world of good.
JERI NEAL. Oh, and do their wives mind?
LEXIE. Only the ones who are still alive. Anyway, Vernadette told me she just loves the water. She said when she’s swimming nothing hurts and she feels like she’s twenty years old again.
JERI NEAL. Wow, that makes you want to get back into the pool, doesn’t it?
LEXIE. Who do you think you’re talkin’ to? I just signed up for a year’s worth of classes.
VERNADETTE. (Enters and crosses to the couch.) You know, of all the things God created, elastic waistbands are my favorite.
LEXIE. (She and Jeri Neal exchange a look.) She’s back! (Then, to Vernadette.) Here you go, Vernie. Let’s take that off before you burn up. (She helps remove her jacket.)
VERNADETTE. Oh, so that’s what it is. I thought I was too old to be having a hot flash.
JERI NEAL. (Checks her watch.) Golly, wasn’t she supposed to be here by now?
LEXIE. It’s going to be so hard for her when she walks in. It’s the first summer we won’t all be together.
JERI NEAL. Somehow I thought none of us would ever— (She can’t bring herself to say it.) Hard to believe there are only four of us left now.
VERNADETTE. How many of us did there used to be?
JERI NEAL. There were five of us, Vern. (A car door slams outside. Jeri Neal crosses to the screen door.) Oh, good. She finally made it.
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VERNADETTE. Well, whoever it is, I hope she brought ice cream. (Just then, Sheree enters. Her hair is silver, her clothing sporty for a seventy-seven-year-old woman and she walks with a quad-cane. She carries a canvas bag and a purse.)
SHEREE. Hey, girls. I’m glad we all made it.
LEXIE. We were startin’ to wonder about you. (She and Jeri Neal go to Sheree and hug her.)
JERI NEAL. Didn’t lose your way after all these years, did you, Sheree?
SHEREE. No. I’ve been here for a half hour. I was sitting in my car up on the rise studying the cottage, trying to make sure I never forget how this place looks.
VERNADETTE. You could’ve saved a lot of time if you’d brought a camera, you know.
SHEREE. Shoot, we’ve all got trunks full of photographs. I was making memory pictures, that’s all. (Walks to Vernadette.) Here, give me a hug.
VERNADETTE. You got any ice cream in that bag?
SHEREE. No, I don’t.
VERNADETTE. Oh. Well then let’s hug and get it over with.
SHEREE. (She hugs her, then looks around the room. Beat.) It’s a strange feeling knowing we won’t be coming back here.
JERI NEAL. Yeah, it’s just not right without Dinah.
SHEREE. Lord, whoever thought she’d be the first to go?
LEXIE. I certainly didn’t. I figured it would be you.
SHEREE. What?!
LEXIE. Oh, sure. The way you were always shoveling down that nasty health food. I just knew it would backfire on you and get you in the end.
SHEREE. Well, I hope you’re not too disappointed, Lex.
LEXIE. Of course I’m not disappointed. Surprised is more like it.
JERI NEAL. Lexie, I have to tell you again how beautiful your eulogy was at Dinah’s service.
SHEREE. Yes, it was terrific. And enlarging those photographs from Dinah’s travels around the world was the perfect touch. Only
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Dinah could manage to look elegant standing next to a yak in front of a yurt in Outer Mongolia. You made that memorial the celebration it was meant to be.
LEXIE. Thanks. It was the least I could do after all she’d done for me.
JERI NEAL. Dinah did a lot for all of us. It still floors me she established the swimming scholarship at Pemberton.
LEXIE. She wanted to make sure our team’s legacy lives on.
SHEREE. Actually, there was something she did for us we never knew about. When I went through her papers, I found out why this cottage was always available to us. Forty years ago, Dinah took a lifetime lease on this place.
LEXIE. Why, I’m surprised she kept that from us.
SHEREE. You’re surprised? All these years I prided myself on being so organized, making sure I had the reservation in early to get the same weekend every August. The whole time Dinah already had it locked in.
JERI NEAL. She sure did love Sweet Delilah.
VERNADETTE. The bathroom works. Why don’t we just stay here?
JERI NEAL. Because erosion’s so bad they have to tear it down. Guess the ocean wants our beach back. And maybe it is time to let it go. It wouldn’t be the same without all five of us here together, anyway.
SHEREE. But it’s okay, Vernadette. I’ve rented us a very nice condo just a few miles away.
VERNADETTE. So we can keep coming to the beach?
LEXIE. As long as there are any of us left.
VERNADETTE. Good. ’Cause I’m really starting to like you people.
SHEREE. You’re going to love the townhouse. We each get our own bedroom and the kitchen is huge, with a big double sink.
JERI NEAL. Oh, remember the summer the kitchen sink overflowed the minute we got here and didn’t stop for an hour? We used all the towels in the cottage and half our clean clothes to mop up.
LEXIE. Lord, we have had some times.
SHEREE. And don’t forget the weekend you had Kenny, Jeri Neal. We took a wrong turn on the way to the hospital and by the time we got there, his head had already crowned.
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VERNADETTE. (To Jeri Neal.) Wait. Aren’t you…the nun?
JERI NEAL. Not anymore.
VERNADETTE. Bet I know why.
JERI NEAL. Vern, do you remember you’re the one who cut Kenny’s umbilical cord?
VERNADETTE. On purpose?
JERI NEAL. Yes. You muscled your way into the delivery room and when it came time, you stepped right up like a champ and did the honors.
SHEREE. While the rest of us sat in the waiting room and polished off what was left in Dinah’s flask.
JERI NEAL. Well, I can’t tell y’all how happy it makes me to announce that our little baby boy is getting married.
LEXIE. You don’t mean it!
JERI NEAL. Yes, ma’am, I do. And to an older woman, of course.
SHEREE. Like stepfather, like son.
LEXIE. Ooh. That reminds me, you know what had every tongue waggin’ at our last Ladies Only Wine Tasting? You remember my orthopedic surgeon’s father, that silver fox I’ve had my eye on? Well, the girls absolutely swear he’s fixin’ to ask me to the Seniors Prom over at the Country Club. Ladies, this could be the start of something big.
JERI NEAL. Like what?
LEXIE. Like another shot at romance. After all, I’m only seventyseven. And I can always use a new dance partner.
VERNADETTE. I think I had a romance once. His name was Merl…or Virl, one or the other.
SHEREE. Honey, his name was Burl and he was your husband. But he died several years ago.
VERNADETTE. Oh, that’s right. He’s dead. (Then.) I wasn’t convicted of anything, was I?
SHEREE. No.
VERNADETTE. That’s good. Did you ever have a husband?
SHEREE. Yes, and I still do. And he’s determined to play every
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golf course in the continental U.S. In fact, as soon as this new hip cooperates, Carl and I are hitting the road in our new RV. Anybody want to join us?
JERI NEAL. You know, if it didn’t sound so gosh-darn awful, Brice and I would be right there with you.
SHEREE. (Moves to the picture window.) I’m really going to miss this.
LEXIE. (Joins her.) Oh, just look at that. Isn’t that the most gorgeous thing you’ve ever seen? (Jeri Neal and Vernadette join them.)
SHEREE. There are few things more beautiful than afternoon sun sparkling on the Atlantic Ocean.
LEXIE. It absolutely takes your breath away.
VERNADETTE. That water looks like it goes on forever.
JERI NEAL. It sure does.
SHEREE. Haven’t we had fun?
LEXIE. Nothing’s meant more than this.
JERI NEAL. Best times of my life.
VERNADETTE. Ditto. Let’s eat. (She heads for the screen door.)
SHEREE. Hold it, Vern. There’s one last thing we’ve got to do. The reason I wanted you all to meet me here wasn’t just to say good-bye to the cottage. Since I’m executor of Dinah’s estate, we’re here to fulfill her final wish. Dinah’s here with us.
JERI NEAL. Of course she is, dear. And she always will be.
SHEREE. No, I mean… (She pats the canvas bag.) Dinah’s here.
JERI NEAL. Oh, my.
SHEREE. She asked that we sprinkle her ashes in the ocean in front of our cottage. And that’s exactly what we’re going to do.
LEXIE. Well, what do you mean? You’ve got her in a jar or something in there?
SHEREE. Oh, no. Dinah Grayson would never have stood for that. I’ve got her in something much more appropriate. (She pulls a silver martini shaker from her canvas bag.) What do you think?
LEXIE. A martini shaker?! How perfect!
JERI NEAL. She would love it!
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VERNADETTE. Huh. You wouldn’t think you could fit an entire grown woman in there, do you?
SHEREE. Oh, it was always the perfect fit for Dinah. Girls? (She holds up the martini shaker. Jeri Neal puts her hand on the shaker. Lexie takes Vernadette’s hand and places it on the shaker beneath her own.)
SHEREE, LEXIE and JERI NEAL. The faster we swim, the sooner we win. (They linger a moment, their hands on the shaker. Then:)
SHEREE. Alright, ladies. Let’s hit the beach. (They gather their things.)
JERI NEAL. You know, the first time we all met Dinah was in the water. I think it’s only appropriate we say good-bye to her there.
LEXIE. I couldn’t agree with you more. It’s a nice ending to a very nice life. (Helps Vernadette to the screen door.)
VERNADETTE. (Stops.) Hey, wait a minute. (She searches through the fog that is her memory.) Have I had a nice life?
LEXIE. (Long beat. She shares a look with Sheree and Jeri Neal, then decides there is no need for honesty.) Are you kidding? Honey, you’ve had a fantastic life. You’ve been very, very happy.
VERNADETTE. Yeah. I thought so. Will you remember that for me?
LEXIE. Of course I will. Here we go. (They exit to the porch.)
JERI NEAL. (Crosses to the “Sweet Delilah” sign, touches her fingers to her lips, places the “kiss” on the sign. Turns, notices Sheree at the picture window.) You coming?
SHEREE. Sure. I just need a second.
JERI NEAL. (As she exits to the porch.) You know, if we had our bathing suits, we could take a swim.
LEXIE. (Offstage, calls.) Since when do we need bathing suits? (Their raucous laughter fades in the distance. Sheree looks the room over. Then:)
SHEREE. (Clutches the martini shaker close.) Come on, Dinah. Group swim… (She exits. Blackout.)
End of Play
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PROPERTY LIST
Potted plant
Filled grocery bags
Small ice chest
Liquor bottles
Ice bucket
Pitcher of iced tea
Assorted glasses
Various suitcases (on wheels)
Bunch of roses
Vase
Small camera
Various purses
2 large bags of blueberries
Notepad
Tupperware container
Tray of hors d’oeuvres
Shoulder tote
Portable bar in case
Briefcase
Martini glass of milk
Photograph
Scheduler
Towels
Pair of earrings
Pair of crutches
Beautiful expensive handbag
Cell phone
Neck brace
Baggie of cookies
Pack of playing cards
Tray of biscuits, honey, cups of coffee
Dishcloth
Eyeglasses
Quad-cane
Canvas bag
Martini shaker
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Arm sling
Throws on couch
SOUND EFFECTS
Phone ringing
Car horn
Heavy wind against cottage
Cell phone ring
Siren “bleating”
Car door slam
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