Page 6 of The Wilder Widows

“In the dark,” Marge taunted.

Narrowing her eyes at Marge, Alice continued. “None of us are too old to have some fun.”

“We’re not all gonna bang the pool boy, Alice.” Marge rolled her eyes.

“Don’t say bang! Disgusting!” Doris scolded and covered her ears.

“That’s not what I meant.” Alice shook her head. “Not that I don’t recommend it.” She waggled her brows.

“Take your hands off your ears, Doris!” Marge shouted so she could hear. Doris pulled her hands down. “You can listen again. We’re not still talking about banging.”

Her hands shot back to her ears.

“Oh, cripes.” Marge waved at her. “Uncover your ears! No more banging talk, you prude!”

Doris peeled one hand from her ear, pausing to make sure the sex talk was over.

“How did you ever manage to make six kids, Doris? The turkey baster?” Alice tipped her thermos upside down, but no more clear liquid poured out. “Shit. I’m out.”

“The regular way. With love.” Doris lifted her chin.

“You banged. That’s how you got babies.” Marge laughed.

“Gross!” Doris cupped her hands over her ears again.

“Bang bang bangity bang bang bang!” Alice shouted loud enough there was no way Doris’s hands blocked out the assault.

Giving up, Doris removed her hands and sat back. “You’re all going to hell.”

“At least we’ll have each other.” Alice smiled and reached out, squeezing Marge’s hand.

“We’ll be warm and toasty. Together.” Marge blew Alice a kiss before their sinister laughter merged.

“Laugh now. It won’t be funny when the flames of hell are licking at your feet.”

“Oh, don’t you worry, dear Doris. I’ll seduce the devil, and he’ll give Marge and me a penthouse suite. I’ll be the reigning queen of hell in no time flat.” Alice smirked and crossed her legs the opposite way, drawing attention to the lean, long lines that stretched up to her A-line skirt. I’d have killed for legs like that even back when I was twenty. Knowing her legs were one hell of an asset, she rarely covered them up, insisting on skirts and dresses all the time.

“It’s hell, Alice. Your worst nightmare. You’ll be short, fat, and will have a face that not even a mother could love.” Doris returned the smirk when she saw the confidence falter in Alice’s expression.

“I’ve been in hell. ‘Nam. Whatever’s down there will be a walk in the park.” Marge pointed at her feet.

“You were in Vietnam?” I asked, startled by the statement.

“Yes, mam. First Lieutenant Margherita Moretti at your service. It’s where I met my sweet Percy.”

She’d only mentioned her husband, Percy, a few times, but never had she mentioned her time served in war. Interested to hear more, I leaned forward, pressing my elbows into my knees. “If you don’t want to talk about it, I completely respect that, but I’m curious what you did over there.”

“Two tours, which was two years, I served as a nurse. A lot of that was right in the thick of the fighting.”

“Was it scary?” I asked.

Blowing out a puff of air, Marge nodded. “Terrifying. But with my nursing degree, it was my privilege to do what I could, so I enlisted in the Army. ‘Nam itself was hell, but I loved the thrill of adventure and even the occasional bullet whizzing past. I miss that rush. I never wanted to be a boring old lady.”

“Hear, hear.” Alice lifted her empty glass then frowned. “I’m all about skipping the knitting and having some girl talk, but if we’re going to chat about our pasts, I will need something else in here.”

Excited to hear more about Marge’s life, and perhaps have a little fun, I tried to mentally catalog my alcohol. “I’m afraid I don’t keep much booze around. Bruce had beer, but after he got sick, he couldn’t drink, so I stopped too out of respect.”

“Well, shit.” Alice’s frown deepened.