Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood Read Free Page A

only photo Vivi hadn’t destroyed. She studied the photo for a moment, put a piece of Nicorette gum in her mouth, and reached for the phone.
    A half hour later, she popped the Barbra Streisand CD out of the player, snatched up her purse, climbed into her navy-blue Jeep Cherokee, and sped off down the long drive that led from Pecan Grove to the wider world.
    Necie and Caro had already arrived at Teensy’s house when Vivi pulled up. Teensy’s maid, Shirley, had pulled together some sandwiches and two thermoses of Bloody Marys. Climbing into Teensy’s red convertible Saab, they took the same positions they had been taking in Teensy’s convertibles since 1941: Teensy behind the wheel; Vivi, shotgun; Necie just behind the driver; and Caro in the backseat behind Vivi. Unlike in the old days, Caro did not kick her feet up on the seat back in front of her. Not because she was worried about propriety, but because she was traveling these days with a portable oxygen tank. She didn’t need to use it all the time, but it had to be near, just in case.
    Teensy turned the air conditioner to high, and the Ya-Yas took turns reading Sidda’s letter. When they had all finished, Teensy put down the top and Vivi slipped the Barbra Streisand CD into the CD player. Each of the women put on a hat, scarf, and sunglasses. Then they blasted off in the direction of Spring Creek.
    “All right,” Vivi said. “I stood there at the mailbox and began composing a prayer—an ‘ultra-tomato,’ as Sidda used to call ultimatums. I said, ‘Listen, Ole Padnah.’ Not ‘ Please listen.’ Just ‘ Listen .’ ”
    “I thought you only prayed to Mother Most Merciful, cher ,” Teensy said. “Didn’t you eighty-six the Old Fart?”
    “Please, Teensy,” Necie said, “stop it. You do that just to shock me.”
    “Well, that’s true,” Vivi explained. “I did give up on God the Father—the Ole Padnah—as Shep calls Him. But I just thought in this case I better cover all my bases.”
    “Always a good idea,” Caro said.
    “It can never hurt to keep praying to them all is what I say,” said Necie, the only one who still thought the Popewasn’t senile. “Since the Holy Trinity does still exist, even though yall have reinvented the Catholic religion to suit yourselves.”
    “Come on, Necie,” Teensy said. “Don’t get preachy. You know we’re all still Catholic girls au coeur .”
    “I just think it’s a little gauche to refer to God Almighty as the ‘Old Fart,’ that’s all,” Necie said.
    “Bien, bien,” Teensy said. “Don’t get carried away, Saint Denise.”
    Vivi unscrewed a thermos and poured the Bloody Mary mixture into a plastic go-cup. “Caro Dahlin,” Vivi said, reaching back over the seat to hand the cup to Caro.
    “Teensy,” Vivi said, “let’s take the old road instead of the interstate, what you say?”
    “Sure, Bébé, ” Teensy said.
    The old road was a single-lane state road that cut through farming country, and wound around part of Bayou Ovelier. It was quieter than the interstate, and cooler, too, with trees on either side.
    “I figure God owes me extra favors with Sidda, since He took her twin,” Vivi said. “I mean, don’t I qualify for a discount?”
    “Yes, you do,” Necie said. “Sidda gets to have all the favors God would have granted the twin if he had lived.”
    “So there,” Caro said. “Sister Mary Necie Explains It All For You.”
    “Teensy,” Vivi said, “are you The Designated?”
    “Hell, no,” Teensy said.
    “They could check us into The Betty for this,” Vivi said as she poured Teensy a drink and carefully handed it to her.
    “They could check us into The Betty for a lot of things,” Teensy said, steadying the wheel. Teensy had christened The Betty Ford Center “The Betty” years ago, and now it was part of the Ya-Ya lexicon.
    “Necie?” Vivi asked, raising her go-cup. “Sippie-poo?”
    “Just a drop.”
    “Tell Babs to pipe down, will you?” Caro said. “I