Page 15 of A Leaner Meaner Midlife

“No more hangman,” I said quickly.

Jennifer cackled. “I value my dang life too much to play that again. We’re gonna play a different car game.”

“Gross facts?” Candy asked, perking up.

Jennifer shook her head. “Nope. It’s called, Better Name For.”

“Not following,” I said, hoping this game wasn’t going to make me want to hurl. Jennifer and Tim could clear a room with their knowledge of the nasty and unnecessary.

“Goes like this,” she said, rubbing her little hands together with glee. “Someone comes up with a better name for an object and keeps it to themselves, then they ask everyone to try and guess the better name. Easy as pie.”

From my experience, making pie was pretty freaking complicated, but I was willing to play along. “Sounds only slightly awful.”

Jennifer cackled. “I’ll go first. What’s a better name for dentures?”

“Pain in the gums?” Jolly Sue called out from the back.

“Good one, but nope,” Jennifer said with a giggle.

“Fake ass fuckin’ chompers?” Candy guessed.

“Umm… no,” Jennifer said. “Anyone else?”

“Porcelain pretenders?” Dimple tried.

“Ohhhhhh, that’s excellent!” Jennifer congratulated her, reaching back and slapping Dimple a high five. “But that’s not it.”

Gideon usually didn’t involve himself in the shenanigans, but the man couldn’t help himself. “Fraudulent fangs?”

I laughed. The Grim Reaper had game.

“Holy cow! Jennifer shouted. “Damn good, but nope.”

“We give up,” I said.

She winked and handed out wine coolers. Gideon and Gabe both passed. “Dentures should be called substitooths!”

“Yessssss!” Lura Belle said. “Outstanding. I do believe I understand the activity. May I go next?”

“Be my guest,” Jennifer insisted.

“Does it have to be something for people to guess, or may I make an astute observation?” Lura Belle inquired. “I’m not used to being included, so I don’t want to mess it up.”

Lura Belle’s statement was sad but true. The old trio had been pariahs in our sleepy little Georgia town for decades. They’d deserved it. But today was a new day. The gals had changed and so had the rules. The thought made me smile. Sometimes truly good things occurred in life. The bad guys—or gals in this particular case—could be redeemed.

“Makin’ the rules as we go,” Jennifer assured her. “Go for it.”

Lura Belle cleared her throat. “I believe that emotional baggage should be called a grief- case.”

“What the actual fuck?” Candy Vargo shouted. “That was fuckin’ profound.”

“It was?” Lura Belle asked with delight.

“Damn straight,” Candy said, offering the old woman a toothpick.

The energy had gone from bored and potentially violent to excited and silly.

“I’ve got one… I think,” I said. “I believe that pick up artists and garbage men should swap titles.”

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