Molly Dox - Annie Addison 01 - Color Me Crazy

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Annie reached down and picked up a blue, latex glove from behind a potted shrub. She thought maybe the landscaper dropped it. Unlocking the door to her beauty shop, she went inside and tossed the glove in the nearest trashcan before vigorously washing her hands. Glancing down, in the glint of light, she noticed footprints all over the floor. This room was well overdue for a thorough cleaning.

Chimes on the door jingled, alerting Annie to someone’s presence. A short, squatty woman with a splash of gray curls came inside. She didn’t stand any taller than five feet, but took up more space tha
n she needed.

“Good morning, Mrs. Bushmiller.”  Mrs. Bushmiller was one of the beauty shop’s neighbors. She nosed into everyone’s business, which could be a good or bad thing depending on the situation.

“Morning, but it isn’t such a good one for me. Mitzi had me up at four AM barking. I don’t know what got into her! By the time I crawled out of bed to look outside, whatever had her attention was gone and she settled back in. At least she fell back asleep,” she said sarcastically. “I on the other hand wasn’t so lucky.”

“I’m sorry it was a rough night. Can I help you with something?” Annie walked across the floor, the rubber of her soles squeaking on the tile. She reached down to pat Mitzi
, Mrs. Bushmiller’s dog, and gave her a scratch on the soft fur behind her ears. “Rough night, doggy?”

“I have the number of the groomer I was talking about the other day. I figured I’d drop it off while I thought of it. I’m heading back to bed.” She gave a wave and turned to leave. She wasn’t wasting any time.

“Oh, thanks.” Annie took the card with the number on it. Her dog, Pip, had gotten into some mischief, and while she gave him a bath this time, she realized bathing squirmy dogs was not her thing. She’d much rather pay a groomer. It was kind of ironic that she was in the business of shampooing, cutting, and grooming herself; but most people sat still. Pip, her over-hyper ball of fur was far from a good client.

Going back to wash her hands again, she finished cleaning up and then went
to glance at a resume that was dropped off just as she was leaving the day before. She gave it a once over. The woman, Jamie, had worked at a competing salon that was only open for the busy season. And being a beach town in New Jersey, the busy season only lasted through the summer.

Unfortunately, with the vacation season ending
, there was less work available, and those who wanted to stay scrambled to find work at a business that was open year round. She tucked the resume in the drawer for future reference.

Sandy Beach Island was a seasonal resort area off the coast of New Jersey. The small barrier island,
which ran no more than twenty miles in length, saw a busy summer, but the swell of crowds died down once school started and the cooler weather swept in. Vacationing families filled the rental houses and then scattered at the end of the season.

Annie glanced at the clock. Her first appointment would be arriving shortly. Charlotte, one of her favorite clients and a dear friend, was due in at nine. Then Trish, her co-partner in crime and style, would be in to prep for Patsy, the cranky, chronic complainer.

“Morning, Sunshine,” Charlotte crowed as she walked into the shop. “I brought donuts,” she sang in a sunny voice.

“Hey Char.” Annie went to greet her friend and thank her for the donuts. “You know I’m trying to lose weight,” she whined before fingering a jelly donut.

“Annie, you’ve lost sixty pounds. You look great. Don’t let that jerk rent space in your head,” she cautioned.

Annie nodded. Charlotte was right. Ever since her husband, now ex-husband, told her he was embarrassed by the way she looked, and that’s why
he’d been sleeping with his secretary, she’d let his words torment her. Two bites of the donut were all that she’d allow herself. It was the polite thing to do, since Charlotte went out of her way to bring them in. Annie washed her hands again and then went to join Charlotte.

“Did you hear about Wylie’s promotion?” Annie
asked as she wrapped the cape around her client.

“Which is a joke,” Charlotte pointed out. “That boy couldn’t find his way out of a paper bag. You know his father had a hand in that one. By the way, do you still want to do dinner tonight?” Charlotte looked at herself in the mirror. “You know, some
days I look in that mirror and think I’m not doing too bad for my age. Then other times, the only thing I can see is a fat, old lady.”

“Do you know what I see? A vibrant woman who I adore, one that I’m happy to call my friend. No more putting yourself down,” she said with a frown.

“You’re right, of course. I’m just in a mood. What can I say?” Charlotte shrugged.

“Can we do seven o’clock at Uncle Buck’s for dinner?” Annie had to do a few things before she could enjoy the evening out.

“Seven works, but you know the fireworks don’t start until at least eight,” she laughed, pointing out that’s when Charlie showed up, the neighborhood drunk, and usually ended up in a fight with someone.

“Pip will disown me and find a new owner if I’m out too late,” she laughed. That little dog had become her entire world. After her divorce, she
’d adopted a mix from the shelter, and the two of them took to each other like peanut butter and jelly, meshing so well that Annie wasn’t sure how she lived all her life without Pip by her side.

“She’s a dog, Annie, she can’t tell time,” Charlotte pointed out.

Annie clasped her hand over her mouth in exaggeration. “Don’t tell her that! She thinks she can.” Pip was way too smart for her own good.

Starfish Square was the little section of town that housed her
“Beachside Beauty” shop. There were little boutiques and restaurants tucked throughout the tourist shopping square. It was a popular tourist draw during the busy season, but it became a ghost town once the cooler months rolled around. Most of the shops closed for the winter.

Annie hoped at some point to expand into both a salon and spa, but for now, they only catered to hair, as well as some waxing. If she added massage, nails, and facials, she could expand her business, but there wasn’t space in her current location. She thought about finding another building, but being in the center of things got her a lot of foot traffic and visibility during the busier
summer season.

The second floor of the shops housed condos, and while some of them were empty most of the year, only acting as vacation homes, some residents lived on the island year round, Mrs. Bushmiller being one of them. It was an island of leisure and a playground for those who could afford it. What once started as a blue collar vacation destination
had turned into an island of mansions and overpriced homes. Many sat on stilts with decks jutting out in every direction, aiming to get a view of the ocean or bay, sometimes both with the help of a roof top deck.

Annie Addison grew up vacationing on Sandy Beach Island, her family coming down during the summers, but it was her marriage to Alex that brought her here as a full-time resident. She was ready to live the good life, a lawyer’s wife in a beautiful home, but that dream came crashing down when she found out he had a mistress. When push came to shove and it all came out, he settled with his secretary and Annie took the settlement he offered to open her shop. She could have gone anywhere else, but she’d grown to love the island and the quirks of the many people who called it home.

“I had the chicken dream again,” Annie said, knowing Charlotte would be amused. She shook her head. “Those feathered fiends taunt me in my sleep.”

“How can a smart, savvy woman like you be afraid of chickens
, of all things?” She chuckled.

“I have no idea where it came from, but those critters have beady eyes, and were pecking at the ground, pecking, pecking, always pecking, and then they looked up at me and started chasing me. Thankfully, I woke up.” Annie shuddered at the thought.

“Were they fast runners on their teeny, tiny feet? Better watch out, those chickens are going to get you,” she teased.

“Any word from the kids?” Annie changed the topic, after giving Charlotte a smile. She knew her fear was a silly one, but she didn’t get to choose which irrational fear she ended up with. She enjoyed sharing it with Charlotte though, and could take a ribbing well enough.

“They’re still pushing to get me into an assisted living facility near them! Can you imagine? I’m not that old, but the way they talk you’d think I’d have one leg into a grave already.” Charlotte shook her head, frustrated with the thought. “Don’t rush me, you know?”

“Sorry that’s still going on. Don’t they realize how active you are? You could outrun half of this island
, as often as you’re moving around.” Maybe if Charlotte’s kids saw her more often, they’d see how spry she was. Annie couldn’t picture Charlotte in an old folk’s home, unless she was in charge of running the place.

“But I’m old
, as they call it. So, apparently once you hit sixty you cease to function and you’re ancient and brittle, according to my children. They worry I’ll fall and break a hip or something. I told them, well, maybe I will. But then I’ll just go get it fixed.” Why couldn’t her children be blessed with common sense?

The chimes jingled on the door as Trish, the other stylist, came in. “Morning,” she waved, and then went back to a terse conversation on her cell phone. She had a client coming in shortly and needed to prep the color for her hair.

Annie finished with Charlotte and said good-bye as Trish’s client made her way in. The mood changed from cheerful to stormy, as if a shadow followed the woman wherever she walked. Annie welcomed their customer and went to let Trish know that Patsy had arrived.

The
appointment book was growing barren now that September was partially over; most of their business came during the busier summer months. Gaps in time allowed her to take her dog, Pip, out for walks. During the summer she was forced to use a doggy day care, as there was barely time to breathe, let alone eat lunch or walk a dog.

Before Trish could make it to Patsy, the older woman was already complaining. It was her specialty. It wasn’t the fun, sarcastic type of complaining that friends did together, it was bitter and nasty, and in her mind, everyone was out to get her.
“Just you watch, one of these days I’ll bite the big one,” she’d say, “and it won’t be an accident.” Her voice was laced with gravel from years of smoking, and the weathered lines around her lips exaggerated the fact that she’d puffed one too many cigarettes.

Trish calmed the woman
as best she could. “That’s ridiculous, Patsy, you’re a robust woman in her eighties. Don’t you think if someone was going to off you, they’d have done it by now?” Trish shook her head and pulled a cape onto her, preparing to color her client’s hair. Mostly they toned down the shades of gray and white so it blended better. She’d outgrown the need to go back to a younger version of her hair color.

After discussing local politics, the newest promotion that everyone was talking about that was splashed across the newspaper headlines, and whining about her “useless” son who welches off her, she finally settled into silence.

Trish applied the color and let it set, giving the woman a magazine to flip through while she waited. She turned to Annie and rolled her eyes. They’d both be happy when her appointment was over.

“We’re heading over to Uncle Buck’s tonight
, if you want to join us.” Annie mentioned to Trish.

“Oh, I’d love to, but I have a date,” she said, fluffing her blond hair. “Rich is taking me out. It’s about time. He keeps making excuses, and I told him that if he didn’t get his act together, he’d be my ex-boyfriend soon.”  She lowered her voice. “I’m sure there’s an entire list of people who would love to off Patsy, but sadly she’ll outlive us all.”

Annie giggled. “That’s not nice,” she playfully scolded. “Besides, I need every client we can get.”