Gasping For Air 2 (Last Chance Romance Series) (2 page)

“The sign. I liked the pink sign with the bird flying.”

Eva gave a brilliant smile. “I love that sign too. It’s from an old hotel built in the forties. I rescued it from a junk pile.”

“Well, it’s very cheerful and I need that at the moment.”

“I hear you. Hope you have a good stay with us.”

“Thank you. I plan to enjoy myself.” Lillian walked out of the office and headed toward her assigned bungalow.

Eva watched Lillian from the window. “I know that hangdog look,” Eva murmured to herself. “I hope she finds this place healing.”

Eva didn’t have to worry.

Already Lillian felt that a heavy load had been lifted off her chest. She breathed easier and though she was frightened, she was determined to rediscover the woman she had once been.

L
illian unpacked her old-fashioned suitcase and hung up her clothes. Looking in the phone book, she found a beauty salon that was close. Writing down the address, she gathered her purse and walked to the car in the brilliant sun. Lillian almost staggered from the intense heat. Getting in, she quickly rolled down the windows, letting the heat escape. Ignoring the hot interior, Lillian pulled onto Highway 1.

Ten minutes later, Lillian timidly walked inside the salon.

“Hello,” greeted the receptionist, wearing a tank top and shorts. “May I help you?”

“Yes,” answered Lillian, looking askance at the young woman’s apparel. “Do you have an appointment open now?”

“What do you wish done?”

“Everything, I should think,” replied Lillian.

The receptionist looked hard at Lillian’s downcast face and made a decision. “If you can wait a few minutes, we can get you in. Hmm.” She looked at the appointment books. “I think I’ll put you with Bitsy.”

“Bitsy?”

“Yes,” whispered the receptionist, leaning over. “She is our best colorist. You do want your hair color changed?”

Lillian thought for a moment. “If you think I should.”

The receptionist smiled. “When Bitsy gets through with you, you will look like a completely different person. You won’t even recognize yourself.”

Lillian brightened. “That’s what I want. Different.”

“We can do. Please have a seat. We’ll be with you shortly.”

Lillian obediently sat in one of the waiting room chairs while the young woman went over to a tiny woman with bright red hair.

They both glanced at Lillian while whispering. Even the woman getting her hair done by Bitsy turned and stared at Lillian.

The red-headed stylist nodded to the receptionist.

The receptionist walked back to her post. “Bitsy will be with you as soon as she is finished with her customer.”

“That’s very nice,” commented Lillian, wondering if she was making a mistake. Was she really ready for a change?

As if knowing what she was thinking, the receptionist remarked, “My mom has hair like yours . . . very fine. I made her go to Bitsy and she looks ten years younger now. She is so happy with her new ’do. She’s close to your age, but older.”

Lillian looked up from a magazine. “Do you get along with your mother?”

“Oh, yes. We are the very best of friends. We talk every day.”

Lil felt a sharp tug at her heart.

“Do you have any daughters?”

“One. She’s married and has a son.”

“Are you close?”

“We were once, but then she grew up. I just baby-sit for her now.”

“Oh,” replied the receptionist. She didn’t know how to respond, but then she had to answer the phone and left Lillian alone.

Lillian was glad she didn’t have to talk any longer. She kept sneaking glances outside, wondering if she should just get up and walk out. Maybe she was going too far with this makeover.

After all, she was a simple woman.

B
itsy ran her fingers through Lillian’s dripping wet hair. “You have very fine hair. I would recommend that we cut it very short.”

“What about the color?” asked Lillian, feeling very anxious about the entire process.

“You’re too young to go gray. Let’s do a pale blond on you. It will make your eyes look larger and stand out. You have very pretty eyes. They’re more golden than brown.”

“Before my hair started turning gray, I was a light brunette.”

Bitsy screwed up her nose. “Dreadful. With your skin coloring, you should be an ash blond.” Bitsy turned Lillian’s head this way and that. “We’ll also do a wax on your eyebrows and upper lip.”

Embarrassed, Lillian’s hand flew to her mouth. “Yes, I’ve noticed that too.”

Bitsy leaned over and retrieved her tweezers. “And let’s get rid of those,” she said, referring to Lillian’s chin whiskers. “Hold still while I get those buggers.” Bitsy skillfully plucked out the thick chin whiskers. “So what’s happening? A wedding? A divorce?”

“What do you mean?”

“Women don’t want a complete makeover unless some special occasion is coming up or they decided to end a relationship. So which one is it?”

“An end to something, I guess,” said Lillian, flinching as hot wax was applied to her skin below one eyebrow.

“Don’t move, honey. This wax is hot.” Bitsy moved around Lillian. “Have any children?”

“One. She’s grown.”

“So are mine,” replied Bitsy while ripping off the cooled wax.

Lil bit her lip so as not to cry out. It hurt, but she didn’t want to seem like a wimp. “Do you mind if we don’t talk? I just want to relax.”

“Sure thing, honey. You let me do all the work. You’re going to love what I’m going to do for you.”

Lillian closed her eyes. All this asking about her daughter made Lillian think back to the last time she had contact with her only child last week.

“M
OM! Did you give Trevor ice cream? You know that we are trying to keep him away from sugar.”

Lillian looked at her frustrated daughter. “I don’t think one little scoop of ice cream is going to turn him into a sugar monster.”

“And he tells me that he watched
Old Yeller
. You know that we don’t let Trevor watch anything that is disturbing.”

“
Old Yeller
is a classic and if Trevor feels sad that the dog died, then that is good. You don’t have a sociopath on your hands.”

“But I don’t want him to feel sad.”

“I don’t understand how you’re raising this kid. No sweets at all. Nothing in his life that smacks of unhappiness. No consequences for his bad behavior. I’m not allowed to discipline him. You’re not letting this kid breathe. He’s living in a bubble.”

“He’s my son and I will decide what is best for him. Okay?”

Lillian knew when she was beaten. “Okay, but I think. . .”

Lillian’s daughter brushed her concerns aside. “I’ve got to go. Can you watch Trevor this Saturday?”

Lillian was starting to get a headache and for once she hedged. “I’ll have to get back to you. We might have plans.”

The daughter gave Lillian a strange look. “Plans? You and Daddy never go anywhere. Well, give me a call by tomorrow.” She picked up her purse and opened the door. “And call the doctor. All this falling and running into stuff might be a sign that something is wrong with you. You’ve got bruises everywhere.”

“Yes, dear,” replied Lillian, feeling more abused and unappreciated than ever.

“Tomorrow, remember.” The daughter gave her mother one last look and slammed the kitchen door on her way out.

Lillian slumped down into a chair and rubbed her temples. A real thumper was starting in her head. Frustrated, she picked at the apple pie on the kitchen table. She knew that she ate too many sweets and that she was a stress eater, but Lillian couldn’t help herself. Before she knew it, Lillian had eaten the rest of the pie. Looking at the mess on her fingers, Lillian felt ashamed and began to cry.

When had she become so pathetic? Lillian decided then that she had to make a severe change or she was going to die. Maybe not her body, but her soul was shriveling up to nothing. She could feel herself disappearing. She had to make a change and make it fast or Lillian felt that she would cease to exist. That’s when she decided to escape to Florida.

“O
kay. Open your eyes!”

Lillian cautiously opened her eyes and peered into the mirror. She stared at her new short, spiky haircut. “I can’t believe it. I look so different.”

“Younger,” replied Bitsy, smiling. “Definitely younger.”

Lillian twisted her head back and forth looking at her new stylish blond hair, plucked eyebrows, and makeup. “I like it. I really like it. I feel so much better.”

Bitsy unsnapped the bib around Lillian and twirled her around. “You’re all done. Ready for a new chapter in your life.”

“How did you know?”

“I can tell when a gal is in desperate need of a change.”

“Thank you.” After leaving a large tip, Lillian went to the front desk and paid her bill. She was actually smiling as she left and got into her car. Glancing in the rear view mirror, Lillian twisted her head this way and that, admiring her new look. It gave her the confidence she needed. “Now all I need is a job,” she said to herself. And she was determined that she would get one.

“E
xcuse me,” said Lillian to Eva. “Can you tell me where to get a local newspaper?”

“Wait one moment,” replied Eva, holding up a finger. She went into the back and came out with a disheveled newspaper, handing it over to Lillian. “Sorry it’s such a mess. I read it this morning and I’m rather untidy with the paper.”

“No problem,” answered Lillian, folding the paper. “I just need the ad section anyway.”

“Looking for a house?” asked Eva, trying to be nonchalant.

Skimming the want ads, Lillian answered, “No. I’m looking for a job. I like it here. I think I might stay.”

“I know what you mean. I came here after a divorce and bought this place. I love it here. So much sun.”

Lillian looked up from the paper and smiled. “Just what I was thinking. I don’t think I can stand another harsh winter.”

“Where did you say you were from?”

“Up north,” replied Lillian.

Eva was immediately ashamed of herself for meddling. Obviously the woman was running away from an abusive marriage. The less Eva knew, the better.

“Most businesses don’t list in the paper anymore. It’s usually word-of-mouth down here,” said Eva.

“Oh.”

“What can you do?”

“I’ve been a housewife for many years, but before I was married, I worked for an insurance company. I handled all their claims.”

“Can you type?”

“I can type, know how to work most office machines, good on the phone, file, just about as good as anybody my age on the computer. I don’t smoke, rarely drink, and don’t do drugs. And I’m not in debt.”

“Goodness, I didn’t ask for all that.”

“Yes, but you wanted to know. I thought you should know all that as I can’t give any references.”

“I see.”

Lillian gave Eva a sheepish grin. “I hope you understand my need for privacy in that regard.”

“I understand perfectly. I remember a time in my life when I wanted to break from the past. One thing about Key Largo, people don’t ask many questions. It’s considered very rude.”

“Well, if you hear of anyone who needs someone, let me know. I like to keep busy and need the money.”

Eva thought for a moment. “Go talk to Jack at Aussie Jack’s. If anybody knows what’s going on, it’s him. Just cross Highway 1 and follow the street down to the ocean. You can’t miss it.”

“All right. I’ll give him a buzz this afternoon. Thanks for the info.”

Eva smiled. “I hope it works out for you.”

Lillian waved goodbye as she was heading out the door. “So do I.”

L
illian tapped on the bar.

A head rose above the bar and looked around until it saw Lillian. “Yes? What can I do you for?” asked a deep voice with a thick Australian accent.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but Eva from the Pink Flamingo . . .”

“You mean the Last Chance Motel?”

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry. Old habits die hard. The locals still call it the Last Chance Motel. Eva bought it recently and renamed it, but we still call it the Last Chance Motel.”

Lillian continued, “Eva recommended that I talk to you. I need a job and she says that you would know of anyone hiring.”

Aussie Jack rubbed his chin. “You need a job, huh?”

“Yes. I’m a good worker.”

“What can you do? What have you done?”

“I can type. I know a little about computers. My last job was handling insurance claims.”

“When was that?”

Lillian lowered her eyes and felt the blood rush to her cheeks. “That was a few years back.”

“How far back?”

“Over twenty-some years ago. I had a child and stayed home to raise her.”

“Why do you want to work now?”

Lillian was starting to feel uncomfortable with all the questions. “I just want to work. I need something to do,” she paused, “and I need the money.”

Jack looked Lillian up and down. “Do you do drugs?”

“Of course not!”

“Drink?”

Lillian shook her head.

“I need a hostess for the evening shifts during the weekends. It doesn’t pay much plus you will be on your feet for seven hours, but you get the evening meal free providing you don’t order lobster and filet mignon.”

“It’s a start. I’ll take it.”

“Be here on Friday at three. Wear black pants or skirt with a white shirt. No cleavage. No loud jewelry. Sensible shoes. You cause trouble or I catch you stealing–you’re gone. Understand?”

“Yes. Thank you. I’ll work very hard.”

“We’ll see. You might be quitting after the first night. It’s harder than you think.”

“Thank you anyway. You won’t be sorry.”

“Yeah? I’ve heard that before. See you Friday.”

Lillian turned to make her way out of the restaurant when Jack yelled after her, “Be on time!” She didn’t bother to comment as she was wondering where she could purchase some good sturdy shoes.

L
illian was terrified. She ate a quick meal, was given twenty minutes of training, and then was handed menus with a grease pencil, and told she was on her own. Things went smoothly until seven p.m. and then all hell broke loose. Everyone seemed to come at once and Lillian was having trouble seating everyone promptly. The tables were not turning over swiftly enough.