Authors: Delia Parr
O
n the second Monday in January, when Pretty Ladies would normally be closed, Ann and Judy hosted the annual Open House at the salon for friends and clients to stop by to celebrate the start of a new year.
For Judy, knowing this would be Ann’s last year as the owner of Pretty Ladies, the Open House was bittersweet. Although Ann was still hoping to retire by the start of summer, she had yet to make any formal announcement to their friends and clients, in part because the bank had not approved Judy’s request for a loan. The bank had agreed, however, to review Judy’s application again after she completed her computer classes and submitted a revised business plan. Fortunately, Ann had agreed to buy the computer for the salon, assuring Judy that the investment would pay off whether Judy purchased the salon or someone else did.
Whether Judy’s venture into becoming a business owner
would be one grand adventure or a disappointing misadventure remained to be seen, but the new year held great promise for her and she gladly bid the old year goodbye.
If she had looked ahead one year ago and realized within a twelve-month span of time she would be raising her grandson, trying to buy Pretty Ladies and taking computer classes, she might not have made it through the year.
But she had made it, meeting one challenge at a time, but she had not done it alone. Among all her blessings this past year, she counted Ginger and Barbara’s friendship as the best, after Brian, of course. And Ann, too, she reminded herself, not to mention the loyal clients and friends who had been stopping in all day to reminisce and to wish them both well in the coming year.
The fact that Candy had not shown up to ruin Christmas was a blessing, too, although Judy wondered if that thought would be enough to qualify her for worst mother of the year. With the Open House finally coming to a close, however, she simply embraced the idea that this had been one perfect day and for that, she was grateful indeed.
At four o’clock, Judy shooed Ann out the door. “No, you will definitely, absolutely, positively not stay to help clean up! Go home,” she urged lovingly and shut the glass door to the salon.
Ann turned, shook her finger at Judy as a mock reprimand, then blew her a kiss before heading home and into a new year that, Judy prayed, would be blessed with better health. After pulling down the shade on the door, Judy turned around to face the remnants of the day’s celebration and groaned. Cleaning up would take every minute of the two hours she had left before picking up Brian at
the after-school program. She hauled out two large garbage cans and lined them with plastic bags. Before she had a chance to start filling them, a knock at the front door interrupted her.
“The party’s over.” She hummed a tune on her way to the door, hoping to douse her annoyance before facing whoever had decided to arrive so late. When she opened the door, found Barbara and Ginger standing there, each armed with plastic bags and a broom, surprise and delight instantly changed her mood. “What are you two doing back here again?” she asked, sounding dumb even to herself.
Ginger giggled and waved her broom like a magic wand. “Well, we’re not the prize squad or whatever it’s called. What do you think, silly? We’re here to help you clean up!”
“But don’t be too quick to thank us. We have an ulterior motive,” Barbara cautioned. “Did you want us to sweep the sidewalk or can we come in?”
Judy stumbled back a few steps to let them in and closed the door again. “You two are amazing. Actually, I’d really appreciate your help. The salon is a mess.”
“We’re very experienced at cleaning up, too,” Ginger remarked as she began clearing off one of the two long tables littered with used paper plates, plastic utensils and trays that had recently overflowed with mini deli sandwiches and baked goods from McAllister’s.
Barbara started on the other table, gathering up leftovers she boxed together. “I wouldn’t be too grateful. Not until you hear what we want you to do for us.”
Judy waved away any objection she might have to returning the favor she owed them. While her two friends
attacked the tables, she walked around the salon and picked up paper plates that had been left helter-skelter at different stations and the reception desk or picked up food that had fallen to the floor. “Whatever happened to simply doing good works, without expecting any reward?” she teased.
“That goes both ways, doesn’t it?” Ginger asked coyly as she started rolling up the plastic tablecloth. “We do a good work coming here to help you and you’ll do a good work helping us.”
This time, Barbara giggled. “I’m not sure how Reverend Fisher would feel if he heard us, but I’m pretty sure we wouldn’t be asked to lead a Bible discussion on the topic anytime soon. Not with that logic.”
Judy dumped an armful of trash into the can. “I’ll help you. There. No more discussion. We’re friends. If you say you need help, then I’ll help you. I think that falls under the ‘Do unto others’ umbrella that the reverend always preaches under.”
Ginger giggled so hard this time she had to stop working to wipe the tears from her eyes. “The first time I saw Reverend Fisher in the pulpit standing under that bright bright turquoise umbrella, the one with Do Unto Others printed on it, while he preached about how we should treat one another, I knew I was in the right congregation. Ministers don’t always have a sense of humor.”
Judy groaned as she lugged a large potted plant they had received from a client over to the floor near the window ledge and saw that it had started to rain. She wiped her hands on her already-soiled slacks. “Not everyone thought the umbrella sermon was…appropriate.”
“Well, I loved it. Maybe we should ask him to help us,
too,” Barbara suggested before she took the boxes filled with leftovers to the back room.
“Ask him to help clean up this mess? Not a chance,” Judy argued.
“No. Ask him to help us with our new assignment for the PTA,” Ginger explained. Barbara returned from the back room and helped Ginger with refolding one of the cleared tables before continuing. “I got a call yesterday from Pam, the PTA President. She said since we’d all done such a good job working together for the Book Fair, we might want to work together again,” Ginger said before she snapped one of the table legs back into place.”
“What did she have in mind for us to do?” Judy asked.
“Apparently, this year it’s up to the Park Elementary PTA to host the annual Mother’s Day Breakfast for the school district, and she wants us to plan it.”
Judy froze in place and clutched the small planter she had been carrying over to the window ledge. She was half-tempted to hurl the planter across town straight at the PTA President to knock some sense into her, but decided not to waste the plant. “You’re kidding, right?”
Ginger shook her head. “That was my first reaction, too. I couldn’t believe she’d ask any of us to work on something for Mother’s Day. It’s not like it’s a big secret in town that my daughter has abandoned her child, along with us, or that your daughter is still missing…and this is the first Mother’s Day for Barbara without her son.” She paused. “Then…then she told me why she asked us.”
“As if that could matter,” Judy quipped.
Ginger smiled. “She said she admired all three of us for taking in our grandchildren and raising them. She said…”
She stopped to clear her throat. “She said we were good role models for the younger mothers and we could help others to see that being a mother means more than giving birth, that any woman who nurtures and loves a child should be included in the breakfast.”
Barbara nodded. “And she also said she was absolutely certain we would be able to make this event even more memorable because we planned it.”
Judy swallowed hard. The idea that she could be a role model for anyone was so foreign she had a hard time grasping the concept and she felt guilty for thinking the worst of Pam.
“So what else could I do?” Ginger asked. “I told her I had the time, but that I wasn’t sure about you or Barbara. Even setting aside the fact that this is a Mother’s Day event, which is going to be hard for you to get through, you’ve got your job and computer classes now and Barbara—”
“I said it would help me to focus on something positive, instead of the investigation,” Barbara murmured. “Since no arrests have been made yet and my shop is closed, I really need something to do and good friends to do it with. Planning the event won’t be the hard part for me. It’s actually attending the event that will be difficult.”
Judy’s gaze softened. “I’m sorry. I’d hoped they’d be finished with the investigation by now.”
Barbara leaned the folded table against the wall. “‘Justice delayed will still be justice.’ That’s what our lawyer keeps telling us. Even most of the media has moved on to more titillating cases, although that might change when the arrests are finally made.” She shook herself as if casting off disturbing thoughts. “Let’s talk about the breakfast.”
Judy smiled. “Mother’s Day isn’t going to be an easy day,
that’s for sure, but if you two can work on the breakfast, then I guess I can, too.” She walked to the window and set the planter on the ledge and saw that it was raining harder outside. “I haven’t really celebrated Mother’s Day for years, except to put flowers on my mother’s grave, but this is a new year. Maybe it’s time for new beginnings and new traditions. How has the breakfast been done in the past?”
As the women continued to clean up the salon and put the garbage cans outside Ginger explained what she had learned about the Mother’s Day Breakfast in previous years. While Judy mopped her way to the back room, Ginger and Barbara waited near the front door, discussing ways to make the event even better. Judy gave the mop one final swish and held it, mop end up, at her side, calling out to the others from just outside the back room. “I think we should each take a week or two to think everything over, come up with ideas on our own, and get together again to compare notes.”
She glanced at the brand-new computer sitting on the reception desk and frowned. “I have computer classes on Monday mornings when the salon is closed. Monday afternoons would be good for me, though.”
“Now that Grandmother’s Kitchen is closed, I’m free any day. Monday afternoons are fine, but I’d have to be able to pick up the girls by three o’clock.”
Ginger shook her head. “I work until three.”
“Evenings are going to be rough, with running the salon on my own,” Judy noted. “Ann’s going to limit herself to house calls for the time being so she’s not on her feet at the salon all day. And I don’t think this is something we can do with the children.”
Barbara sighed. “I agree, but weekends are rougher.”
“Then I’ll just have to talk to Charlene and tell her I’ll need to leave early a couple of Mondays,” Ginger suggested.
Barbara looked skeptical. “Are you sure she won’t mind?”
“I doubt it, especially if we can get together on Mondays this month. There’s always a postholiday lull in January. I’ll ask her tomorrow and call you if it’s a problem. Otherwise, let’s say we meet at The Diner next Monday at one. How’s that?”
Barbara smiled. “Sounds good to me.”
“Me, too.” Judy held up her mop. “Why don’t you two head home? I just have to rinse out the mop. The floor will be dry in a few minutes, and then I can head home, too.”
“What about the leftovers? Didn’t you say something about taking them to the Towers?” Barbara asked.
Judy looked at the two boxes stacked behind her, looked back at the window to see it was still raining outside, and sighed. “I forgot all about them.”
“It’s raining. Let me drop them off for you on my way home,” Barbara offered. “I parked my car about two blocks away. Let me go get it,” she said, grabbed her broom and left before Judy could argue with her.
“I’ll stay and keep you company,” Ginger insisted.
Chuckling to herself, rather than lose another argument, Judy emptied the water into the sink and rinsed out the mop. She was resting the mop upside down in the bucket to dry and propping the handle against the wall when she heard a knock at the door. She sighed and turned her head over her shoulder. “If that’s Barbara, tell her I’ll be a few more minutes. If not, tell whoever it is that the
party is over and I’m not making any appointments until tomorrow,” she cried, hoping her voice would be loud enough to be heard at the front of the shop.
She heard the front door open and close quickly and assumed Ginger had heard her. When she heard voices talking again, she thought Barbara had returned. She started putting the boxes into large shopping bags with handles to make it easier for Barbara to carry them when she heard Ginger call out.
“Judy! There’s someone here to see you. She says it’s important.”
“I’m coming,” she called back, but she stopped and closed her eyes for a moment. “It’s never going to change, is it?” she grumbled under her breath. “Why is it that once a woman decides to get her hair cut or permed or colored, she wants it done yesterday, but waits until today to make the appointment?” She sighed, realized she was beyond tired and tried to put a smile on her face.
She grabbed a shopping bag in each hand, saw the floor was still damp when she came out of the back room. Being very careful not to slip, she kept her gaze focused on the floor and started tiptoeing back toward the front of the salon.
“When you weren’t at home, I thought I’d find you here.”
Judy froze.
Her hands tightened on the handles of the bags she carried, and her nails bit into the palms of her hands.
Heart pounding, she looked up and stared straight into the face of the only person who could have destroyed her
perfect day and made it more perfect, all within a single heartbeat.
With the next beat of her heart, her whole world turned upside down and inside out.
Again.
W
ith her dripping coat clinging to her body and her short, dark hair plastered against her scalp, Candy was a hundred pounds of pure indignation. Her eyes flashed with fury. Her cheeks flushed scarlet, and her lips curled into a snarl. “Don’t bother saying hello or introducing me to your friend here. Just tell me this. Who do you think you are to tell those…those idiots running the after-school program that I can’t even see my own son?”
Before Judy could answer, the salon door opened again. Barbara was barely inside before Officer Joe Karpinski hurried in behind her and stood off to the side between Judy and the other three women. Drenching wet, as well, he removed his hat, looked at the water he had dripped on the floor and cringed. “Sorry for bringing the rain in with me, Mrs. Roberts. What a downpour! This is definitely not a good day to be on bike patrol. I hope you don’t mind, but I needed to see—”
“Cops?” Candy threw her hands up in the air. “Those idiots called the cops? I don’t believe it.”
The young officer looked directly at Candy. “Ma’am?”
She clapped at her thigh in frustration. “The school. They called you from the school, right? Well, that’s just perfect. It’s my first day back…No, change that. It’s my first hour back in Welleswood—”
“Ma’am, please. I’m Joe Karpinksi. The kids call me Officer Joe. I work with them at the school. And you are…?”
Candy flashed her mother a look of pure disgust before letting out a long sigh. “Candy Martin.”
“Well, I’m pleased to meet you, Candy.”
“It’s Mrs. Martin,” she snapped.
Still calm and seemingly unflappable, he smiled. “My fault. Mrs. Martin.”
Judy kept her gaze locked on her daughter. “Candy is my daughter and Brian’s mother,” she explained to the officer who was a good fifteen years younger than Candy. It was possible that he did not recognize her or maybe he did not remember her. Or was he responding to the call from the school, fully aware of Candy’s identity and relationship with Judy, yet using his training to try to defuse what might be a potentially volatile situation?
In any case, Judy was relieved he was here and very grateful if the school had called him. Behind Candy, Barbara and Ginger stood together, like a pair of tigers ready to pounce if Candy took one step closer to Judy. Barbara held her dripping umbrella in front of her like a sword. From the grim expression on her face, she appeared ready to use it as a weapon, while Ginger held a firm grip on her broom.
Candy’s glare remained as bright as a beacon from a lighthouse.
“If you’re having some sort of problem with the school, Mrs. Martin, I’d be glad to help, but I only came in here to see Mrs. King. I saw her through the window,” he explained, and his statement immediately shifted the tension in the room away from Candy to Ginger.
Shocked, Judy looked away from Candy to the officer and finally to Ginger. Her face was pale and she trembled. Barbara lowered her umbrella and edged closer to their friend.
Ginger’s eyes widened with panic. “Me? Why did you need to see me? Is something wrong? Has something happened to Tyler? Or Vincent?”
The officer blushed and held up his hand. “No. I’m sorry. Please don’t be upset. Nothing’s happened. I’m sure your husband and your grandson are fine. I just wanted to let you know that I’m taking some of the kids out this Saturday for ice cream. I promised to ask Vincent the next time we got together, but with the snowstorms, I’ve had to hold off a bit. Do you think he’d like to come?”
Relief washed Ginger’s face and restored her color. “Oh! Absolutely. I’m sure he would. I can ask him tonight and talk it over with my husband, just to make sure. Then I’ll call you.”
He smiled, but shrugged his shoulders. “You don’t need to call me. If he can come, just bring him up to the station around two on Saturday. I usually give the kids a little tour of the station house first.”
“Two o’clock. We’ll be there.”
He nodded and looked from Barbara to Candy and finally Judy. “Ladies, I’ve got room for a few more kids. What about the twins, Mrs. Montgomery?”
Barbara shook her head. “My husband and I are taking the girls to the Adventure Aquarium on Saturday.”
“Maybe next time, then. What about Brian?” he asked, looking first at Judy and then Candy.
“I think he’d like that,” Judy offered.
“We might have other plans,” Candy countered and tilted her chin up as if daring Judy to challenge her authority.
“Good enough. If he can make it, just bring him on up.” He put his hat back on and looked out the window. “Rain’s stopped. I guess I’d better be going. Let me help you with those shopping bags on my way out,” he suggested. When he approached Judy with his back to the others and lifted a brow, silently inviting her to indicate if he should leave or stay, she realized he might indeed have come to follow up a call from the school.
She handed him the shopping bags, which he grabbed and held with one hand. “Actually, I’m not leaving quite yet, but Mrs. Montgomery is going to take these to the Towers for me. Would you mind helping her by taking the bags out to her car?”
“Sure thing.” He looked around the floor again and frowned. “I’m really sorry about getting your floor all wet.”
“It’s not a problem,” she assured him. “It’s only rain-water. A quick mopping should take care of it.”
Reluctantly, Barbara followed the officer out of the salon and Judy urged Ginger to leave, as well. “Thanks again for all your help. I’ll see you next Monday, right?”
With her feet planted and her hand still gripping her broom, Ginger stayed put. “I don’t mind staying. I could help you mop the floor.”
Judy hugged her and opened the door. “If you hurry, you can get to your car before the rain starts again.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive.”
Ginger slipped out the door, whispered, “Call me,” and walked away.
Judy watched and waited until her friend disappeared from view before slowly closing the door. She had no fear of Candy, but she had no great desire to face the ugly confrontation that would inevitably begin once she closed the door and they were alone. In her mind, echoes of angry words from previous arguments collided with heartbreaking memories and the embarrassment of having Candy confront her in front of Barbara and Ginger today.
Trembling, she closed the door and pressed her palms against the shade until determination to protect Brian and maintain her self-control gave her the strength to turn around. As she turned, she caught a reassuring glimpse of Officer Karpinski who was standing next to his bike on the other side of the street, but the sight that waited for her when she looked at her daughter was beyond anything she might have imagined.
She blinked hard several times. “Wh-what are you doing?”
Candy did not look up and continued working. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m mopping the floor.”
“I—I can see that,” Judy sputtered. “I’m just—”
“Surprised?” Candy stopped for a moment and looked up at her mother. Her gaze was hesitant, even wary, but her eyes were clear. Her complexion was also fresh and healthy. She had taken off her coat, and her body had curves again,
prompting Judy to assume that Candy had made more than a little progress in battling her addiction. She cocked her head. “It’s no big deal. You’ve been mopping up the mess I’ve made of my life for a long time. I’m only mopping your floor.”
Hopeful, but skeptical by experience, Judy still kept up her guard. Instead of responding, she waited for her daughter to direct the course of the conversation and hoped Candy might offer some explanation about where she had been all these months since leaving the halfway house.
Candy shifted from one foot to the other. “I’m sorry I barged into the salon and yelled at you, especially in front of your friend. I was just so anxious to see Brian that when they wouldn’t let me see him at the school, I blamed you and assumed you were deliberately trying to hurt me. I realize now you were protecting him, and I’m sorry.”
“You’re apologizing?” Judy blurted, as surprised by her daughter’s statement as she was at herself for asking the question.
“Just accepting responsibility for my actions.” She shrugged, but also managed half a smile. “It’s part of my recovery program,” she murmured and started mopping the floor again.
“Oh.” Judy did not know what else to say. Pointing out that this was at least the third recovery program Candy had experienced would be unkind, at best. At worst, reminding Candy of her past failures might jeopardize the obvious progress she was making now.
The natural bond they shared as mother and daughter remained, but the emotional distance between them was very real. Closing that distance would be difficult. Judy
knew she had to tread very carefully, even though she was anxious to know if Brian had been aware of Candy’s unexpected arrival at the school and had become upset.
“The halfway house outside of San Diego reported you missing last September. Why did you run away?”
Candy’s eyes widened. “You knew?”
“After you left, they found Brian’s picture with my address on the back and contacted the Welleswood Police. Yes, I knew, and I’ve spent every day since then wondering if you were still alive and if you were, when and if you might come for Brian, assuming you remembered you had a son.”
“Mom, I’m sorry. I had no idea—”
“No. You never did, did you?” Judy retorted. She kept her voice low and her determination to face the truth was undaunted. “If you’re serious about staying off drugs, then I assume being honest is also part of your recovery.”
“Sure, but—”
“Then I need to be honest, too. I don’t want to hear any excuses or lies, like before. I just want the truth, plain and simple. Why did you run away from the halfway house?”
Candy closed her eyes for a moment. When she looked at Judy again, her gaze was unwavering. “The plain and simple truth is that I didn’t run away. I just changed programs.”
“So this call to the police was the result of what? A breakdown in communications between one program and another?”
“No. A necessary move because of a difference of opinions. I thought it was time for me to move on. So did my therapist.” She let out a sigh. “I’ve met some incredibly
wonderful people who have helped me to get to where I am today, but along the way, I’ve met a few who…Let’s just say they aren’t working with drug addicts for even one reason that’s right or good. Before I found myself trapped by drugs again, I had to leave, even disappear, with the help of a counselor I could trust. If I ever had an inkling that the director at the halfway house would try to find me here and tell the police I was missing, I would have contacted you. If you need to know more than that—”
“No,” Judy whispered. The anguish on Candy’s face was real, and Judy had heard enough to know she did not need to hear any of the sordid details. Not now. Maybe some day in the future when it would be easier for Candy to explain and for Judy to understand. Instead, she had more immediate concerns. “What about Duke? Did he come with you?”
Candy paused, twisted the handle of the mop for a moment and attacked one last puddle on the floor with a vengeance. “We’re divorced. He won’t be coming here.”
“Oh.” Judy kicked herself mentally for repeating herself, but at least she did not say she was happy to know Duke was now her ex-son-in-law and Brian had no reason to fear being reunited with his father. “I—I mean, I didn’t know.”
With one final swish, Candy finished mopping the floor and leaned on the handle. “That was part of my recovery program, too.”
“Getting divorced?”
“Yes. Staying in an abusive marriage was a mistake. I guess I always knew that, but I never…I never had the courage to get a divorce before now. Once I realized he had abandoned Brian, too, I realized I finally had the chance I needed.”
As opposed to divorce as she might be in principle and as a matter of faith, Judy had no doubt that Candy’s divorce was absolutely necessary to protect her daughter as well as her grandson. Encouraged by the positive choices Candy appeared to be making, Judy focused on her grandson. “What about Brian?”
Candy locked her gaze with Judy’s. “He’s my baby. He’s…he’s why I’m standing here, completely clean and drug-free now for six months and seventeen days. And he’s the reason I intend to stay clean. One day at a time. One week at a time. One month at a time.”
Judy looked deep into her daughter’s eyes and swallowed hard. She had heard Candy’s promises to kick her habit many times, but she had never seen the depth of commitment or strength of will that stared back at her now. Letting go of past disappointments and accepting Candy at her word, however, was more difficult now because of Brian. Judy was not the only one who could be hurt.
Brian’s interests were paramount, and if Candy did not understand that, then Judy would have to make sure that she did. Judy bit back the urge to make any demands or to tell Candy what she could or could not do. Instead, she did something she had never done before. She simply asked, “What are your plans?”
Candy’s eyes widened, obviously surprised by Judy’s new approach. She raked her fingers through her wet hair and brushed it away from her face. “That’s hard to say. Not that I don’t have any plans. I do. I have short-term plans and long-term plans, but…but I guess I need to know…”
She paused and straightened her back to stand tall. “In
the long term, I plan to be able to raise my son and to be able to support us both.”
“And in the short term?”
“In the short term, I know I need to prove myself and get involved in a program here. I need a place to live. I need a job. I—I need to convince Brian that I love him and that I’m really sorry for leaving him and that I won’t ever leave him again.” With tears welling, she choked and cleared her throat.
Judy battled tears of her own and struggled to get air past the lump in her throat.
“But most of all, I need your help. I know you’ve tried to help me in the past, and I’m really, really sorry for what I’ve done to you. I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to try to help me again, but it’s different this time. Will you help me, Mom? Please? Just one more time?”