Age Before Beauty (5 page)

A single row of pink plastic curlers formed a ring around the base of her mother-in-law’s skull, and a tight curl of dark, steel-colored hair was held in place by crisscrossed bobby pins in front of each ear. She looked a lot older this morning, her eyes heavily hooded and the skin at each side of her jaw sagging to form droopy jowls. She must be, what? Sixty-two or -three? A lot older than Allie’s mom, anyway. Right now she looked every day of it.

Her wide mouth tightened, deepening the lines at each corner into twin crevasses as she gave a little sniff. “It’s five thirty. I’m always up at this time, making Don’s breakfast and packing his lunch.” She glanced across the living room at the closed master bedroom door. “What time does Eric leave for work?”

“Not until seven thirty.” Allie edged a step away, toward the safety of her bedroom with its newly installed locking doorknob. “His alarm clock will go off in another hour. But if you’re bored, I’m sure he’d love it if you pack him a lunch. It’d save him some time.”

The lines between Betty’s eyes deepened with disapproval. “You mean you don’t make his lunch for him?”

Allie hid a sarcastic response behind a tight smile. “No, he makes a mean ham sandwich. In fact, before I went on maternity leave, he sometimes made my lunch at the same time he did his own.” She gave in to a wide yawn. “I’m not much of a morning person.”

The older woman’s dark eyes, a nondescript gray-brown color, seemed to gather sadness as the lids drooped even farther. “I suppose he’s grown accustomed to taking care of himself. Marriage must have been such an adjustment for him.”

Allie’s jaw clenched at the thinly veiled insult. Actually, when she first met Eric he had been a rowdy college boy, living in a pigsty with three other guys and doing his best to prove that the human body could thrive on beer, leftover pizza, and powdered sugar donuts. He’d been completely resistant to any “taking care of” she’d tried to perform. Wouldn’t even let her do his laundry when she offered to take it home with hers, and they almost broke up over her attempts to wash a sinkful of disgustingly filthy dishes in his kitchen. One of the things that attracted her to him in the first place had been his independence.

Allie forced a smile. “Marriage is always an adjustment, isn’t it? For both parties.”

“But wives are called on to sacrifice more than husbands.” Her chin inched upward. “Our role in the family is to be the homemakers, to take care of our husband and children. That’s our job.”

Allie stiffened. In another minute Betty would be telling her she needed to
submit
or something, and then Allie would totally lose it.

“Well, that works for some people.” She turned before Betty could respond and stomped across the living room. When her hand touched the knob, she said without looking back, “Make yourself at home in the kitchen. I’m sure Eric would love to have his breakfast waiting when he gets up. Just like the good old days.”

With the door safely closed behind her, Allie leaned against it, fuming. She refused to be lectured about her wifely duties in her own home. What kind of Stone Age thinking was that, anyway? Men were perfectly capable of taking care of themselves, and some, like Eric, resented a woman trying to mother them. Betty had been living in some sort of time warp for the past forty years, dressing in checkered aprons and scrubbing the floors on her hands and knees, or something equally ridiculous. That was exactly what Allie
didn’t
want, the reason she couldn’t quit work and become a stay-at-home mom. She and Eric had a modern marriage. They shared everything, right down the middle, from the household duties to the responsibility for paying the bills.

That last thought flushed away Allie’s irritation with her mother-in-law as it ushered in a new set of worries. She crossed the bedroom floor on tiptoe, careful not to disturb the blanket-covered figure in the bed. The Varie Cose catalog lay on top of her dresser, and she fingered its glossy cover. Could she really sell enough of this stuff to cover her part of the bills? Sally Jo’s success proved it could be done. But Allie didn’t know the first thing about sales.

On the other hand, Allie knew people. Her favorite classes in college were the behavioral psych courses. She loved figuring out what made people tick, what made them act certain ways, like certain things. Surely that kind of analytical look at behavior could help her in a sales career. Maybe if she approached selling with that idea, she could make a go of it.

Behind her, Eric murmured something and rolled over. She left the catalog where it lay and slipped beneath the blanket to wrap her cool arms around his sleep-warmed body. He snuggled closer and, with a soft sound very much like his infant daughter’s, settled once again into a deep slumber. Allie lay with her cheek pressed against his chest, her mind busy with plans. She’d talk to Sally Jo today, find out the details of becoming a Varie Cose representative, and then present her plan to Eric tonight. They’d probably have to lock themselves in the bedroom to have some privacy, though. She heaved a breath that sounded like the snort of an irritated bull.

He was just going to have to do something about his mother.

5

Allie whipped her car into a parking space in front of the restaurant where Sally Jo agreed to meet her. From the backseat, Joanie’s screams echoed off the windows and stretched Allie’s nerves to the breaking point.

“I know, I know.” Allie winced as the sound of her voice caused the volume to increase. About a week ago Joanie had decided she hated the car seat, and every trip they took with the infant became a nightmare.

Allie leaped out of the car, glancing at her watch as she jerked the back door open. Ten minutes late. Terrific.

“Calm down, sweetie.” She pitched her voice in a low, soothing tone as she pulled the umbrella stroller out and unfolded it, but Joanie refused to be consoled. She wanted out, and she wanted out now.

“Mama’s here,” Allie soothed as she pushed the release button and slipped the little seat belt straps off the baby’s shoulders.

She scooped Joanie out, and her screams began to quiet almost immediately. Hugging her tight against her chest, Allie bounced up and down until the infant’s cries softened to shuddering breaths. She eyed the stroller. Better not take a chance on that right now. She slammed the car door, dropped her purse into the stroller seat, and headed for the front door of the restaurant.

Inside, the smell of hot yeast dough and cinnamon stopped her in her tracks. She inhaled deeply, her gaze sliding over the yummy pastry items in the display case. A waving hand with shiny red nail polish from the booths lining the rear windows caught her eye. She guided the stroller in that direction, nodding at the smiles Joanie collected as she threaded her way through the tables.

“Oh, look at the tiny baby,” Sally Jo cooed. “Why, isn’t she just the cutest thing? How old is she?”

Joanie’s face was still bright red from her tantrum and her little forehead puckered with fury. A downy blonde spike stood straight up on the top of her head like a baby mohawk. Allie arranged her headband so the pink organza bow was positioned to one side of her damp head.

“Five weeks.” Allie slid into the booth. “Sorry I’m late. I’m still trying to get used to packing the entire nursery into the diaper bag whenever we go somewhere.”

“Actually, I would have preferred to meet at your house.” Sally Jo’s shiny lips formed a pretty pout. “It would be so much easier to do business there.”

Rocking the baby with a slight movement, Allie shook her head. “Trust me, it wouldn’t.” She scowled. “My mother-in-law is visiting.”

“Ah.” Sally Jo nodded. “Well, in that case, we might as well start.”

A tired-looking woman in a brown server’s uniform approached the table and placed a menu in front of Allie. “What are you drinking, sweetie?”

Allie noted the lipstick-stained coffee cup in front of Sally Jo. “I’ll have a decaf coffee with cream.” She paused, the smell of hot cinnamon doing battle with her resolve to lose weight. Resolve lost. “And one of those iced cinnamon rolls. And some water, please.” She slid the menu back across the table.

When the server disappeared toward the kitchen, Sally Jo opened up the huge leather satchel sitting on the seat beside her and extracted a thick three-ring binder. “I’ll start out by telling you about our company, Varie Cose International.” She angled the binder so it faced Allie and flipped open the cover. The first sheet, encased in plastic, showed a modern stone office building with dozens of rows of windows shining in bright sunlight. A huge flag hung suspended above an arched glass entryway depicting the Varie Cose logo, a multicolored fan held in an elegantly sketched feminine hand.

“As I said last night, Varie Cose started in a small Italian village. But in the twenty years since, it has grown into a multibillion-dollar corporation that operates in more than twenty-five countries. This building is our main headquarters in Milan, Italy, but we have offices all over the world, including New York, San Francisco, and Chicago.”

Allie watched as she flipped through the first few pages, each depicting a different building but all flying the colorful Varie Cose banner. Then came several pie charts and line graphs, and Sally Jo launched into an animated discussion of worldwide retail sales volumes and market shares. Allie clenched her jaws shut against a yawn and tried not to look at the thickness of the stack of pages still to come in that binder. Hopefully Sally Jo would get around to something interesting before she nodded off from boredom.

The server brought her coffee and pastry. Allie smiled her thanks as the Varie Cose representative kept right on talking.

“And when the company hit the million-dollar sales mark in the early nineties, they decided to launch the cosmetics line.” A satisfied smile curled the corners of Sally Jo’s mouth. “That’s when the business really took off. Since then we’ve steadily increased our market share of worldwide sales in the cosmetic, housewares, and cleaning product lines, and our clothing line has held steady.” She leaned across the table toward Allie, excitement dancing in her eyes. “At the division conference in Atlanta last month, they discussed some exciting new ideas that I’m not at liberty to share. But trust me, honey, Varie Cose is a company to watch.” She leaned back, nodding, and picked up her coffee cup.

Joanie, finally lulled to sleep, barely stirred when Allie transferred her to the stroller and fastened the straps around her.

“So how does it work?” Allie asked when she had the baby settled. “Do I get a paycheck from the company, or do I just collect money from my customers? And do I have to pay anything to sign up?”

Sally Jo gave a small smile that made Allie squirm in her seat. She felt like a large-mouthed bass who’d just been hooked.

“Well, no,” Sally Jo said, “you don’t
have
to pay anything. But you won’t be able to do much of a demonstration if you don’t have any product to show, will you?” She sipped her coffee and set the cup down. “We’re getting ahead of ourselves. Let me keep going with my presentation.”

Allie tore a chunk of warm cinnamon roll with two fingers and popped it into her mouth. She barely tasted the soft, sweet bread as she forced herself to focus on the charts Sally Jo showed her.

“Eric, I’d like to talk to you about something.” Allie placed the last supper dish in the top rack of the dishwasher and closed the door before turning to catch his eye and mouth a silent addition to her request.
Privately.

He winced as he nodded, which sent a wave of guilt coursing through her. No doubt he thought she was going to harangue him about his mother again. She shifted her gaze toward Betty, who was just giving a final swipe with the dishrag to the kitchen table. Actually, the pot roast she cooked for dinner had tasted delicious, and Allie had to admit her whipped potatoes were as good as anything Gram made at home. The woman knew how to cook, and judging by the way she’d taken control of the kitchen this afternoon, she enjoyed it. That was fine. Cooking was not Allie’s forte. She was more than willing to give over control of the kitchen for the duration of her mother-in-law’s short stay.

“Okay.” Eric set the broom inside the pantry. “Mother, would you mind keeping an eye on Joanie for a while?”

Allie opened her mouth to protest, but when she caught sight of the eager look on Betty’s face, she closed it again. Why, she had barely even looked at the baby all day! In fact, she had confined herself to the kitchen or the bedroom since Allie returned from her meeting, and didn’t say a dozen words until Eric got home. She hadn’t once tried to touch her granddaughter, which was the total opposite of Allie’s family. Allie had begun to wonder if perhaps she was uncomfortable around babies.

But now, a Mona Lisa smile tugged at the corners of Betty’s mouth as she glanced at her sleeping granddaughter nestled in her infant seat.

Maybe it’s not Joanie who makes her uncomfortable.

She cleared her throat and forced herself to smile when the woman’s gaze shifted toward her. “Um, thank you for cooking supper, Betty. It was really good.”

The older woman’s lips flashed upward in a tight smile. “I’m sure we all appreciate a home-cooked meal every now and again.”

She turned away to hang the dishrag across the sink, leaving Allie to stare in growing disbelief at her back. Did that woman just insult her in her own home? Was she insinuating that Eric never got a home-cooked meal, that his wife wasn’t capable of feeding him properly?

Moving quickly, Eric grabbed her by the arm and propelled her toward the doorway. “Holler if you need anything, Mother.”

Allie allowed herself to be guided through the living room and into the bedroom. When Eric closed the door behind him, she jerked out of his grip and pushed the lock button, then whirled on him.

“Did you hear that? She just—”

Eric shut her up by pulling her toward him and covering her lips with his. Almost unwillingly, she felt the tension ease out of her body as she succumbed to his blatant ploy to calm her down. Poor Eric. His mother really had put him in a tough position. It wasn’t his fault she went out of her way to insult his wife. She slipped her arms around his neck and yielded to the kiss.