Sheba grabbed the bra and shoved it into her shiny pink handbag. I bit my lip and tried not to laugh. It felt funny to be braless in public: loose and airy. For a second I imagined my nipples having mouths, breathing in oxygen for the first time. I giggled. Sheba did too.
“Our secret.” She pinched my knee.
Beanie Jones and Mr. Jones were leaving Morgan Millard just as we were walking in. He was as handsome as she was pretty, but there was a waxiness to his skin and a rubberiness to his lips. Even his thick light brown hair looked fake. It was parted to the side and as neat as a wig.
“Hi, Beanie Jones!” Izzy said. And then she gasped and turned her face into my belly as she remembered the secret of Jimmy and Sheba.
“Hi!” I nervously waved.
“Hello, hello!” Beanie Jones had a too-big smile and she nodded as she examined wigged Sheba, then wigged Jimmy, and lastly, wigged Mrs. Cone.
“Tommy Jones.” Mr. Jones stuck out his hand and shook Dr. Cone’s hand.
“Richard Cone. We’re up the street from you,” Dr. Cone said. He seemed stiff, uncomfortable. Jimmy wandered away and stood at the ma?tre d’ podium with his back to us.
“I’m so glad to finally meet you in person!” Beanie Jones said. “It’s taken a while to meet all the new neighbors, what with people gone for the summer.”
“Thank you so much for the angel food cake!” Mrs. Cone’s voice was higher and more singsong than usual. As if she were overacting in a church play.
“Are you neighbors too?” Beanie Jones put her face so close to Sheba’s, she could have licked her.
“Jenny Johnson. We’re visiting from Newport, Rhode Island.” Sheba’s voice was nasally, low, and filtered through pinched lips. It reminded me of Thurston Howell III’s voice on Gilligan’s Island. Izzy’s head bopped and her lips made a little pfft sound as she tried not to laugh.
“Jenny Johnson, so nice to meet you!” Beanie Jones grinned. Mr. Jones was talking to Dr. Cone, who kept glancing away at Jimmy. “And your husband is?”
“Johnny Johnson,” Sheba said.
The ma?tre d’ approached us with menus. Jimmy lurked behind him. Sheba said to Beanie Jones, “Dahling, it was lovely to meet you and your husband. Do let us know if you’re ever in the Newport area.”
“Yes, I’d love to visit—”
“See you around the neighborhood!” Mrs. Cone cut off Beanie Jones with her overacting voice.
Izzy and I both waved and Dr. Cone shook Mr. Jones’s hand before he followed the rest of us to the table.
After being seated, we looked at each other with pursed lips or big, gaping smiles. No one spoke for a few seconds as Mrs. Cone leaned toward the window and looked out to make sure Beanie and Mr. Jones were gone. When she sat back in her chair and started giggling, we all fell apart laughing. Izzy laughed so hard, she began hiccuping and that made us laugh even more.
Sheba kept the joke going all night. By the time dessert was being served, everyone was talking like Jenny Johnson of Newport, Rhode Island, using words no one in the household used, like trousers and de rigueur and on the contrary, my dear.
When Dr. Cone pulled up the station wagon in front of my house, I thought I might weep. I wanted to stay with everyone, put on that water-soft nightgown, and sleep in Izzy’s plush bed. I wanted to wake up in that house, where I felt like I existed as a real person with thoughts and feelings and abilities.
Mrs. Cone leaned over the seat and gave me a kiss goodbye on the cheek. Then Jimmy leaned over Izzy and kissed the top of my head. Sheba kissed my cheeks and Izzy climbed onto my lap and kissed me all over my face. “Mary Jane, I’m going to miss you SO MUCH!”
“I’ll be back before breakfast on Monday!” I said cheerfully. But I wanted to kiss Izzy all over her face and say the same thing to her.
Sheba got out and stood by the open door. “See you Monday, doll.”
“Can I have my bra?” I whispered. I’d have to put it on before I entered the house.
“Yes!” She dug into her purse and handed it to me.
“I left your nightgown on top of the washing machine, but I never started a load because we were so busy with the books and everything.”
“No, you have to keep it! Take it home with you. It’s yours now!” Sheba leaned in and held me for a second before kissing me again on the cheek.
I watched the car drive away, then I walked to the darkness at the side of the house, out of reach of the porch light. My hands shook as I lowered the straps of the dress and put on my bra. It took a few seconds to get the hooks latched in the back. Once they were fastened, I pulled up the straps of the dress and then walked inside.