Wifey by Judy Blume Read Free Book Online Page B

Funky asked.
    “I’m not a late sleeper,” Norman said.
    “So, you’d have time for a quickie,” Ben said.
    “We just love our Sunday-morning quickies,” Luscious told them all.
    Gish put his arm around Sandy’s shoulder and whispered, “I’d like to make it with you, quick or slow, your choice.”
    “And Sandy,” Brown said, “once you take lessons you’ll love it like everybody else. We’re not all born athletes like your husband.”
    “I’ll bet you don’t need any lessons in the sack,” Gish whispered.
    “And on Thanksgiving and Mother’s Day and all the other holidays you’ll always have a nice place to go,” Funky said.
    “And The Club does a terrific job on affairs,” Brown said.
    Affairs?
Sandy thought.
    Myra stood up. “I think I have a Club booklet somewhere.” She went into her bedroom and returned with it.
Green Hollow Country Club. Rules and Regulations.
“Read this, San, it’ll give you a better idea.”
    “Thanks.” Sandy stood up too. “It’s been very nice,” she said, “I hope you’ll excuse me . . . I’m really tired . . .” She looked across the room, at Norman.
    “Sandy’s recuperating, you know,” Myra said. “She’s been quite sick. Take care, San. Get a good night’s sleep.”
    “I’ll be in soon,” Norman told her.
    “Yes, see you all tomorrow.”
    Sandy got into bed with the green booklet.
Had Gish been serious? No, it was just a joke.
She opened the booklet. There were General Rules, Golf Course Rules, Tee Off Procedures, Club House Rules, Guest Rules, Tennis Regulations, Pool Regulations, Rules Pertaining to Children on the Premises, Rules Pertaining to Restaurant Minimums, and Rules Pertaining to Sons of Members Who Wished to Caddy.
    Suppose Gish had been serious? He was attractive.
    No, it was out of the question. He’d just been kidding around. Flirting, but not seriously.
    There were Lessons For All, including but not limited to Private Tennis Instruction (by the hour or half-hour), Golf (by the hour or half-hour), Playing Lessons (nine holes or eighteen), Having the Pro Play in Your Foursome . . .
    Sandy dozed off, the bedroom light still on.

6
    T WO DAYS LATER Sandy, Myra, and the twins were having their lunch on the patio. “It’s just wonderful to be able to share your vacation with your family,” Myra said, squeezing Sandy’s hand in a sudden burst of enthusiasm. “You’re looking so much better, San. How do you feel?”
    “Stronger . . . healthier . . . I always feel good with a tan.”
    Myra inhaled deeply and stretched. “I can’t think of any place on earth I’d rather be.”
    “Well, I can!” Kate said. “And I’d also like to know why we can’t ever have anything besides blended salad for lunch?”
    “Because blended salad is good for you,” Myra said. It was her latest kick in fad foods. She bought romaine lettuce by the crate. Sandy found it hard to take herself, but instead of complaining she just waited until the others left for their afternoon activities, then made herself a peanut butter sandwich.
    “Green mush!” Kate moved it around on her plate.
    “Seaweed!” Connie added. “And Bucky and Jen are in the kitchen eating hamburgers and fried bananas, is that fair?”
    “Bucky and Jen are little children,” Myra told them, “but you are young women and need to watch your weight.”
    “Bullshit!” Kate said, pushing back her chair.
    “I thought I told you to watch your language,” Myra said, clenching her teeth.
    “Oh, come off it, Mother. Aunt Sandy knows we’re human. Let’s go, Con.” She and Connie got up and stalked off.
    Myra tried to laugh it off. “Just wait until Bucky and Jen reach adolescence.” She sipped her mint iced tea. “It isn’t easy.” She flicked her hair back. “Did I tell you I made appointments for them with Dr. Saphire?”
    Dr. Saphire had performed Myra’s breast reduction surgery.
    “No, aren’t they too young?”
    “Nose jobs . . . not the