Color Me Bad: A Novella (4 page)

“Now see here, Patty June, you have no right to—”

She screamed.

Later, Titus would swear she hit a high C with the first breath, but it served the purpose. They ran into one another trying to be the first one out the door.

For the second time in one day, Patty June slammed her front door. It wasn’t ladylike, and she knew it wasn’t good for the etched-glass insets, but there were times when manners were highly overrated, and this was one of them.

“I swear to my time,” she muttered and went back to the kitchen to reheat her stew.

Ordinarily, this would be when Conrad helped set the table and lay out the condiments. When she made stew, he was partial to having bread-and-butter sandwiches with it. She blinked away tears and, out of spite, made herself a bread-and-butter sandwich.

“Damn Conrad Clymer to hell and back, and I’m not a bit sorry for saying that,” Patty June said, then sat down at the table, shoved her fingers through her little brown helmet of hair, and proceeded to cry until her stew was cold all over again.

•••

For the next five days, everywhere Patty June went, people were talking about what she’d done. It was as if Conrad’s misdeeds were of no matter, even if he was the preacher. She heard the same two pieces of advice over and over. People make mistakes. People should be forgiven.

It was the revenge she’d taken that had caused the uproar. It made men nervous to realize there were women strong enough to exact that kind of retribution. It made them look at their own women in a different light. The last thing they wanted was to give them the notion that they had that kind of option.

And so they began a subtle mission, hoping to influence their females into thinking that cutting hair off a whore’s head and kicking a cheating-ass husband out of the house were the two worst things a woman could do. They were turning Patty June into a raging feminist in a culture known for its sweet, southern charm.

For Patty June, it was as if she’d been cheated on all over again. When she needed support most, the people who should have been there for her were condemning her instead. She went through shock, disbelief, and despair.

When the day rolled around for another hair appointment at The Curl Up and Dye, she almost didn’t go. Why expose herself to even more ridicule? But if she turned tail and ran, then she was admitting she was at fault, and that was never going to happen. So what to do? And that’s when it hit her. All of her life she’d been a good girl. Maybe it was time to find out how the other half lived. She had the money to travel and the time to do it. With two full hours before her hair appointment, she got in her car and drove downtown to the Miller Travel Agency. She’d always wanted to go to Italy, and there was nothing stopping her now.

•••

Willa Dean Miller owned the Miller Travel Agency and liked to think that, of all the residents of Blessings, she was the most widely traveled, even though her travels had all been online.

She was pouring herself a fresh cup of coffee when she happened to glance out the window. She had always liked Patty June Clymer and was somewhat impressed by what Patty June had done, but at the same time, it didn’t pay to be different in Blessings. After all, she had her business to consider. If she went against the power of public opinion and stood on Patty’s side, that business might suffer. The economy had already slowed it down considerably. The last thing she needed was to tick off her clients. So she turned on the sarcasm and waved at her assistant, Precious Peters.

“Hey, Precious, look who just parked out front. It’s Patty June Clymer, as I live and breathe.”

Precious jumped up from her chair to run to the window, but when they both realized Patty June was coming into the shop, they made a fast scramble toward their desks instead.

When Patty walked in the door, she could tell by the flush on their faces that they’d been talking about her, but she was past caring. She strode to the front and plopped her purse near her elbow as Willa Dean came to the counter.

“Good morning, Patty June. I can’t say as I’ve ever seen you in here before,” Willa Dean said.

“Then that’s proof your memory is just fine,” Patty said. “I want to book a trip to Italy.”

Willa Dean was torn between staying snarky or getting her act together and treating Patty June like a paying client. The money won out.

“That sounds exciting,” she said. “Do you have any particular destination in mind? Maybe Rome or Venice? I hear Venice is stunning. Or maybe Milan! So many fabulous places to see in Milan. I have tours available at any of those cities. Just take your pick.”

“I was thinking I’d hit them all,” Patty June said. “I mean, now that my cheating, whoring husband is gone and I have divorce proceedings in progress, I see no reason to grieve myself silly here in Blessings while the people I thought were my friends proceed to judge me.”

Willa Dean paled. “Why, I never—”

“Oh shut up,” Patty muttered. “Everyone has. What I don’t understand is why. If that had been Harold, would you have still crawled into bed with him at night and spread your legs knowing he’d been fucking someone like Bobbette Paulson?”

Willa Dean gasped. She didn’t know what shocked her more: the idea of Harold committing adultery with anyone, or the fact that Patty had said the word
fuck
.

Patty frowned. “I see you have no opinion, which I find interesting. However, I’m not interested in who Harold might be doing on the side. I want to book a trip to Italy. Are you going to help me, or do I have to drive to Savannah?”

Willa Dean was still trying to get past the image of Harold doing it with anyone. She couldn’t get him interested even once a month, and the moment that thought went through her mind, the next was that she’d never wondered why. What if Harold was already “doing” someone else? What if that was the reason Harold didn’t want to have sex with her anymore?

It was all she could do to focus on booking this trip, which would be big income for the agency. Time enough to deal with Harold—the lying, cheating bastard—later.

Willa Dean waved Patty toward the chair at her desk.

“No, of course you don’t need to drive into Savannah. Sit down, honey. Precious, get Patty June some coffee, or would you rather have tea? I have a nice lavender tea I think you would just love.”

Patty June blinked. She wasn’t sure how to take this about-face, but it was nice to be treated normally, regardless of the reason.

“I believe I’d like to try that tea, thank you very much.”

Willa Dean smiled. “Perfect. Now about that trip.”

An hour and a half later, Patty June left the agency with a handful of pamphlets and an itinerary that would have made world travelers Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie blink. Not only was she stopping in every big-name city in Italy, but she wasn’t coming home for a month. She could hardly wait to go shopping, but first things first. Next stop, The Curl Up and Dye.

•••

Willa Dean watched Patty leaving with no small amount of envy. She’d always wanted to go to Italy, but Harold, the sorry bastard, didn’t much like the idea of travel. She needed to talk to her friend Myra, who ran the flower shop. Myra had been a woman of the world before she settled down and married her husband, George.

Willa Dean made the call and then peeled the foil off a Hershey Kiss and popped it in her mouth while she waited for someone to answer.

“Pots and Posies, this is Myra. How can I help you?”

“Myra, it’s me, Willa Dean. I think Harold might be cheating on me,” and then she choked on the chocolate and broke down in tears.

•••

Unaware of the seeds of discontent she had just sown, Patty June drove down the street to the beauty shop and parked. The moment she got out of the car, she began to relax. This was probably the only place in Blessings where she would not be judged.

The bell jingled over the door as she walked inside.

Ruby looked up, waved, and smiled.

“Be right with you, honey! I’m just finishing up LilyAnn’s hair. Vesta and Vera brought cake today. It’s their birthday. Go on over to the table and cut yourself a piece, and don’t tell me you can’t eat cake before lunch ’cause I’ll know that’s a big, fat lie.”

Patty smiled. She had tickets to Italy, a new outlook on life, and she was about to eat dessert in the middle of the morning. Talk about living in the fast lane.

She set her purse down on the table and cut herself a big square of bakery cake, making sure to cut a pink sugar rose with it, then sat down to eat while watching Ruby finish up LilyAnn Bronte’s hair.

As she eyed LilyAnn’s profile, Patty suddenly appreciated her own screwed-up life. At least she’d had fifteen years of being a wife. Poor LilyAnn’s boyfriend had died right out of high school before the couple had gotten past a promise ring.

Patty June lifted the icing rose off the cake and popped it in her mouth, letting it melt slowly on her tongue as she thoughtfully eyed the tall blond. It was hard to imagine LilyAnn ever being the Peachy Keen Queen, although, as she remembered, LilyAnn had been a real looker in high school. Now the woman was overweight, never wore makeup, and her clothes were so oversized that they hung on her like sacks. She had such a pretty face. It was a shame she’d let the rest of herself go to pot.

Patty June took another bite of cake as guilt washed over her. Of all people, she should be the last one to judge. Patty June’s man had not gone to war in Afghanistan straight out of high school and gotten himself killed. He just fucked a whore and got himself caught. Poor LilyAnn. Surely she had grieved herself into this condition. That was all.

A few minutes later, LilyAnn left the shop. As soon as she was gone, Ruby waved Patty over and gave her a hug.

“What was that for?” Patty asked.

Ruby smiled. “Are you trying to tell me you didn’t need it?”

Patty June sighed. “No. It was nice. In fact it was the nicest thing anyone’s done for me since I was here last. According to the people in town, I have gone from goody two-shoes to hell on wheels, just because I kicked my lying husband out of the house.”

“Well, you did shave a path through his whore’s red head wide enough to park a car on,” Ruby added.

They stared at each other and then burst out laughing.

“Put your cake down and let’s get you shampooed,” Ruby said.

“Okay, but I want you to do something different today,” Patty June said.

Ruby stopped.

Vesta and Vera came out of the break room, and Mabel Jean stopped folding towels.

“Really?” Ruby said.

Patty June nodded. “Sister, my hair has been the same mousy brown all my life. I want to do something different with it.”

This set the women in the shop abuzz, offering one suggestion and then another. Finally, Ruby called a halt.

“Girls, that’s all well and good, but Patty is the one who’s gonna be wearing it. What do
you
want, honey?”

Patty June eyed the array of swatches in her lap and then looked up and grinned.

“I don’t know. I don’t care. Just give me a color with edge. You know what I mean. I want you to color me bad.”

CHAPTER 3

Thanks to the inquisitive nature of small-town America, the news that Patty June Clymer was coloring her hair spread through Blessings faster than butter on a hot biscuit.

The postman was dropping off the mail at the front counter of The Curl Up and Dye when he saw Patty June sitting at Ruby Dye’s station. He paused just long enough to see the color squirting out of the bottle onto Patty June’s head and then he was gone. After that, he finished his route, delivering the morning’s mail with a little dose of gossip.

The regular delivery boy for Pots and Posies was laid up at home with a broken arm, leaving Myra and George to take turns making their own floral deliveries. Myra was on a second trip to The Curl Up and Dye with orders for the Conklin twins’ birthday. Even though there were no men in their lives, their clients were obviously loyal because floral gifts kept coming.

Myra came in with her arms full of vases and a smile on her face.

“I’m back. It’s wonderful you girls have so many people who love you, but it’s also great for business.”

Vesta and Vera were beaming.

“This is so sweet,” Vera said.

Vesta was touching up her client Rachel Goodhope’s roots. Rachel ran the Blessings bed and breakfast and liked to keep herself sharp for her public persona. She was probably one of the few people in Blessings who empathized with Patty June. She was on her second piece of cake and third husband and understood all too well how shit like that happened.

“This cake is really good,” Rachel said.

“Looks yummy,” Myra said, as she set the vases down by the others she’d delivered.

Vesta pointed. “Get yourself a piece and take one back for George, too.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” Myra said.

She cut two pieces of cake and slid them onto one plate and was about to leave when she noticed Patty June sitting in Ruby’s chair. She started to speak and then saw what Ruby was doing and nearly dropped the cake. All of a sudden she was talking too fast and trying to get out of the shop to spread the news.