Our lives were greatly enriched by Mom's three BFFs - Gay Pendleton, Ellen Lear & Gig Cope. Alas, Ellen moved to Texas (where she was indispensable Gal Friday to the folks managing the substantial business interests of the legendary King Ranch) when I was just a wee child & "Aunt" Gay was super busy being the accomplished wife of an executive bishop. The left the redoubtable Virginia Cope as Mom #1 "Road trip!" buddy.
And hit the road they most certainly did - several times a month, I'd arrive home from school to find a note from Mom ~ "Headed up the river with Gig!"
How those two loved to meander up the River Road, which winds along the Delaware through Yardley, Washingtons Crossing, New Hope, Center Bridge & points north.
Gig was - without trying to be - very Katherine Hepburnish in her manner & absolutely her voice. And the comparison always deeply irritated her, although utterly spot on. She had this marvelously impervious - downright imperial - attitude & a similar exaggerated Main Line tone to her voice, although Gig had a slight drawl compared to the Great Kate's clipped style. And she did not hold back on sharing her opinions.
Although Gig was great fun to have along on outs & abouts, it required developing a pretty thick hide to protect ourselves against her well-aimed zingers. But her company was worth it.
Smiling, remembering the LAST time she zinged us. The four of us - Gig, Mim, Mom et moi - were headed to Spring Lake, the Lockhart Ladies' favorite part of the NJ shore, with a stop first at a ShopRite in West Long Branch.
This would have been going on thirty years ago - before the days of truly super duper super markets. Mim had come across the West Long Branch ShopRite on one of her weekly rambles around the area, following a visit with a friend in Eatontown. Today, we wouldn't bat an eye at the extensive florist section & bakery department, the gorgeous veggies (not a cellophane-wrapped tomato in sight) & splendid everything. Did I mention the live tree extending up to the ceiling, surrounded by fresh flowers? A worthy stop for anyone sort of close to the area.
Gig could NOT believe it. Literally - "I cahn't belieeeeeve you brought me to a SUPAH MAHKET," she somewhat grumbled as we walked in. In rather uncharacteristic form, neither Mim nor I jumped in to defend ourselves. We just let it pass.
The four of us spent the good part of an hour wandering the aisles. When we left, the only one to make a purchase was - you guessed it - Gig, who said in a slightly dazed voice as we headed back to the car, "Well, I couldn't belieeeeeve you'd take me to a supah mahket, but it really was somewhat special." Mom could not believe hearing such an unGiglike admission, while Mim & I just smiled at each other.
Next stop, Spring Lake!
It should be mentioned that back in those days, we'd take a leisurely meander from Bryn Athyn over to that part of the shore. Instead of taking the main roads (I-195 was just opened) we ramble up through Allentown & glorious horse farms, most of which are now long gone, replaced by cookie cutter housing developments.
As we drove, Mom was waxing rhapsodic about our traditional first stop in Spring Lake - Sundae Times. As we got closer & closer to Spring Lake, Gig started leveling her barbs about "Oh, you Lahkah & your slavish love of ice cream," not said in a kindly way.
Imagine her reaction when we waved at & then I drove PAST the clearly marked Sundae Times.
"You drove pahst! Ahn't you getting your much tahked about ice cream?!"
"Oh, no, Gig," I responded, "We like it, but you're our guest. Since it's not your cup of tea, we'll just stop off at Baskin-Robbins after we drop you back home. Not a problem. Next stop - the boardwalk!"
For once, Gig was left totally flummoxed. She always go away with needling us in her unique, but not very nice style. She was NOT used to being taken seriously, to her verbal barbs having consequences. And she knew we hadn't said anything that she could take exception to; we'd simply come to a reasonable conclusion based on what she'd said.
"Oh, no," she responded, "The three of you - especially Kay - have been looking fohwad to this. I insist."
Mom, sitting next to Gig in the back seat, looked her bosom buddy straight in the eye & assured her, "Really, Gig, since you have no interest in ice cream, we'll be just as happy getting some back home," changing the subject to, "I can't wait to show you the pavilions that jut out over the beach..."
Gig was fit to be tied. She was reduced to sputtering about how all the talk about ice cream had actually gotten HER in the mood for a scoop as well.
From her front seat perch, Mim turned to add her two cents, "Well, Gig, if you really insist..." And off to the ice cream parlor we sent, with Gig exclaiming it really was the best ice cream she'd ever had.
The showdown at the Sundae Times was not accident, ditto the silence as we headed into the Shop Rite. Mim & I had decided the time had come to teach Gig a lesson. Whatever she said, we'd take her at her word. She was used to tossing around pointed cracks without any repercussions. Instead of criticizing her, we'd take her at her word.
The big question - would Mom be able to hold up enough to teach her friend a thing or two? She responded with actual gusto, totally believable in her assurances that we would be perfectly happy with ice cream AFTER dropping off her BFF. She had doubted it would work. But did it ever - over the next 15+ years, we'd include Gig on many a ramble, but not once did she make a crack about something SHE really wanted to do. All because we took finally her at her word.
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