Beauty Shop Tales

For a short time before I came to this sad realization, I thought Chet and I could be happy there.

Chet had became somewhat of a minor celebrity around town and was bitten by the bug. People started recognizing him on the street—“Hey! Aren’t you that extreme sports dude on TV? I saw your spot on the ASP Tahiti Surfing Tour. Righteous, dude!”

Fame, minor as it was, was like a drug to him. The more recognition he got, the more he craved. The more remote the location the network sent him to—Fiji, Australia, Hawaii—the more he craved getting away. You know how I feel about flying. So I stayed behind, focusing on how everything would get better once we had a baby.

That was before I knew a baby was out of the question.

“So what’s Julia Roberts like?” A voice from the crowd pulls me back, and I realize I don’t even know who asked the question.

“Umm…she’s very nice. Very down to earth.” This is not a lie. I was in close enough proximity that I could ascertain that she’s quite pleasant. It’s the other people in the industry who weren’t so wonderful.

“So will you fix me up with her?” Bucky Farley guffaws.

Someone utters, “Get a life, Farley.”

“Well, it doesn’t hurt to ask.”

“Who else did you work on?” asks Lonnie Sue, all wide-eyed.

“You know, actually, I didn’t—”

“Back away, everyone.” My mother shoulders her way through the throng with a plate to rival Gilda’s. “Let her eat her dinner in peace.”

She sits down next to me as if she’s settled into her throne. “Avril’s home to stay, so you’ll have plenty of time to hear all the Hollywood stories. In fact, why don’t y’all book an appointment and get your hair done by our very own beauty operator to the stars and hear about it then?

“In the meantime, grab yourselves some of Maybell Jennings’s chocolate cake. It’s so good on the lips, it’s worth carrying it around on the hips.”

As the knot of people breaks apart, Lonnie Sue eyes Mama’s plate and then bites into a celery stick. “Chocolate cake. Ha. With this thyroid of mine if I even look at cake, I’ll pack on five pounds.” She pats her belly. “I already have years of Maybell’s cakes to contend with.”

Mama smiles, then closes her eyes as she savors her first bite of deviled egg.

“Mmmm…what more could a girl want?” She reaches over and pats my leg. “Good food and my darlin’ girl. I got everything I need right here.”

I glance around the beauty shop, letting its familiarity seep into my bones like a balm. Everything is neat and in its functional place. Mama hasn’t redecorated since she opened the place back in seventy-six. But it’s clean and painted. Nothing looks too worn or in disrepair.

Someone has yanked down the white sheets I saw hanging when we drove by. As it turns out, they weren’t drapes after all, only a temporary prop to curtain off what was brewing inside, so Mama could drive me down Main Street without ruining the surprise. True to form, Tess Mulligan doesn’t miss a thing.

“I really never thought I’d see you back here.” Dani wrinkles her tanned, freckled nose and looks down at her hands. “I mean, I’m glad you’re back, but, well, you know…I guess if I ever got out of here and made it to California I wouldn’t want to come back.”

I shrug and so does she, nervously flipping her long, straight golden-brown hair over her right shoulder. With that too-long fringe of bangs sweeping across her tanned forehead, she still looks like the natural, pretty beach girl she was when we were in high school. Only a little spent and worn around the edges…

I try to look in her blue eyes rather than at the ring of bruise, but it’s hard to keep my gaze from wandering. Mama never says much about Dani. We weren’t very close in school. But I’m surprised she never mentioned Dani coming in with a shiner. I make a mental note to ask her about it. Not simply to gossip, but to see if she needs help.

“Things change,” I say.

I glance at her left hand and see she’s still wearing a ring. “How’s Tommy?”

“Doing good. Still over at the hardware store. He’s the manager now.”

Dani and Tommy quit high school in the beginning of our senior year after Dani got pregnant. They got married—she had the baby, he took a job at the hardware store.

“Tommy’s workin’ late tonight. That’s the reason he’s not here. Had to go on a delivery over to Cocoa. But Renie’s here.”

Renie?

She motions to a beautiful, willowy blond teenager sitting on the floor on the opposite side of the room. All bad posture and awkward, skinny limbs, she looks like the teenage version of Dani I remember, only blonder. She’s listening to an MP3 player with an expression that suggests this party is the last place she wants to be.

When Dani motions her over, she rolls her eyes and drags herself to her feet, looking downright disgusted by the imposition.

The girl presents herself, but doesn’t look up from the iPod she’s holding in her right hand.

“Renie, this is Avril,” Dani says in her quiet voice. “The party’s for her.”

I wonder if the girl can hear her mother because the ear-buds are still planted firmly in her ears. Dani reaches up and touches her daughter’s cheek.

Renie flinches and shoots the look of death at her mother.

“Renie? Remember I was telling you about the girl I used to go to school with who worked in the movies?”

The girl looks me square in the eyes and pulls a so what face. “No.”

Dani flushes the shade of the Naugahyde.

“Sweetie, why don’t you just go on home if you’re gonna act like that? I don’t want you ruining Avril’s party.”

Renie turns and walks toward the door.

“You go straight home now,” Dani calls after her. “Your daddy should be home soon and I’m going to ask him if you were there when he got home.”

Renie doesn’t turn around.

Lonnie Sue puts a hand on my arm. “Avril, hon, so you’re going to start on Monday?”

I’m glad for the diversion so I won’t have to gloss over the awkward Renie moment with Dani.

“I haven’t really talked specifics with Mama, but sure, I can start Monday if that’s what works.”

Gilda stands up stiffly and shoots me a lightning-quick look that suggests she caught the exchange with Renie. Her eyes dart away just as fast, focusing on her paper plate as she folds it in half around the chicken bones like a big white grease-stained taco.

“Actually you’re right between the two of us,” she says. “So we can both keep an eye on you.”

She winks at me. “Well, I don’t have a cranky thyroid. So I’m definitely goin’ to claim me a piece of Maybell’s cake before it’s all gone.”

As she ambles off, Mama corrals Lonnie Sue and Dani into a discussion about the overbooked schedule on the Saturday of the Founder’s Day celebration—which appointments they want to keep and which they want to shift over to me.

I’d wondered how my coming on board would work. The way Mama’s been billing me as the “beauty operator to the stars” and urging people to come in and book an appointment with me, I didn’t want to step on anyone’s toes by poaching their clients. Hairdressers can get a little territorial and the last thing I want to do is get off on the wrong foot.

I’m glad Mama broached the subject and decided to let them figure it out. I get up and circulate, thanking people for coming, talking to others about who married whom, who’s divorced and who died—seventeen years worth of gossip to catch up on in one night. Most of it I already know because a leaf couldn’t drop from a tree without Mama calling to tell me.