Five Women Read Online Free

angel, and the matter-of-fact sophistication of a child who has always lived among adults. Billie had told Gara once that she had been taking Little Billie to Yellowbird since he was born. Everybody adored him.
    He was there tonight, as always, doing his homework at a back booth, with his little computer and his Walkman and his plastic violence doll. There was a cot in his mother’s office in case he got sleepy. Since Billie’s formal education had been minimal due to lack of interest, Little Billie was being helped with his homework by the two transvestites Gara called the Larchmont Ladies. They dressed like middle-aged suburban matrons, wearing cheap copies of Chanel suits, sensible pumps, and wigs set in the long-outdated petal look. They had become a kind of fixture here, preferring Yellowbird to the downtown clubs.
    After the initial shock of their appearance, or the discovery that they were not what they pretended to be, the Larchmont Ladies turned out to be quiet and pleasant. One of them was an accountant, and he helped Little Billie with his math. The other one was reputed to be a cop. They were not lovers, only friends, or sisters if you will, although they both claimed to be straight. No one had ever seen either of them with a woman. They didn’t mind being baby sitters. They called themselves Gladys and Lucy, but Little Billie called them Ralph and Tom.
    Gara had been the first to arrive tonight, so she nabbed the seat with the best view of the rest of the room and ordered a bottle of white wine. Janis was singing on the sound system and she hummed along.
“Take another little piece of my heart now, bay-bay . . .”
She liked the old songs more than the new ones; the lyrics made more sense in relation to her life. Or maybe they really had been better.
    â€œHey,” Billie said by way of greeting.
    â€œHi.”
    â€œWho’s coming tonight? Kathryn? Felicity?”
    â€œYes,” Gara said.
    â€œEve?”
    â€œI don’t know.”
    â€œShe’d better not ask to have her table changed,” Billie said ominously, and walked away. Gara laughed.
    The waiter arrived with the wine, menus, ice water, and biscuits. The food here was sort of Southern and not very good, and Billie hardly ever changed the menu, so there was something about it that Gara found reassuring. It was like the food of her childhood. Growing up in New York they’d had a black, Southern housekeeper who didn’t cook well, but Gara’s mother hadn’t cooked at all. Gara had never been able to decide if this was her mother’s one gesture toward being emancipated from the role of housewife, or if it was her way of being privileged. Gara had grown up to be an indifferent cook, but her ex-husband hadn’t minded; he liked the two of them to eat out nearly all the time anyway, as if they were on a permanent date.
    When she thought how romantic Carl had been when he wanted to be, she felt sad. She had finally gotten to the point where there were whole days when she forgot he existed, but she knew it was an act of will. She had been married to him for twenty-two years, most of her adult life. She had known him when they each had both parents. She had helped bring up his two sons from his previous marriage, on the weekends and vacation weeks that he had custody, a time that seemed so long ago. She could finish his sentences, and often he looked at her hopefully to do so. How close their bond had been—two minds with the same thought, the same references, the same memories. Perhaps that had been part of the problem. She had become too familiar. Strangers were more enticing. And at the end he had turned into a stranger, so that she was the one left yearning and enticed.
    â€œThere you are,” Kathryn said cheerfully, emerging from the dimness with a glass in her hand. “I was at the bar. I didn’t see you come in.” Her skin was luminous, her hair glowed a soft,