The Liar (16 page)

“I—”

“How about a Coke?” Tansy said.

“God, yes. Thanks. I’m repeating myself, but I’m sorry. I just had a little altercation with Melody Bunker.”

Tansy slid onto a stool. “Want something stronger than a Coke?”

“I’m tempted, but no thanks. I went over there to see if I could get a part-time job. I wish I didn’t like the place so much. It’s just wonderful, and has such a good feel about it. Until I went upstairs and talked to Melody. She was as biting as a nest of rattlers, I swear. Wouldn’t you think she’d let go of high school?”

“Her type never lets go of anything. I’m the one who’s sorry. I sent you over there. I didn’t think about Melody—I try not to.”

Tansy sent Derrick a smile when he put a ginger ale in front of her. “Thanks, baby. Melody’s only in there two or three hours a day, and only a few days out of the week. Otherwise she’s off to some club meeting or getting her nails done, or having lunch up at the big restaurant. It’s Roseanne, the assistant manager, who really runs the place.”

“Whoever runs it, Melody would burn it to the ground before she hired me on. Thank you,” she said to Derrick when he set the Coke in front of her. “I’m sure I’m going to like you because you have such good taste in wives. And I love your place. I had the best time here last night. Oh, and congratulations on the baby.”

“That about covers it. I already like you.” He poured himself a fizzy water. “Tansy’s told me about you, and how you’d take up for her when somebody like that bitch across the street picked on her.”

“Derrick, you shouldn’t call her that.”

“She is a bitch,” Shelby said, and drank. “At least I gave her some of her own back. It’s been a while since I’ve given anybody some of their own back. And it felt damn good. Maybe a little too good.”

“You were always good at it.”

“Was I?” Calmer, Shelby smiled, sipped. “It sure came back to me. Smoke was spiraling out of her ears when I left, so that’s something. So, I won’t be working there in the foreseeable future. I wonder if you need any help here. Another waitress, maybe?”

“You want to wait tables?”

“I want a job. No, I need a job,” Shelby amended. “That’s the truth. I need a job. I’m making the rounds today while Tracey Lee’s got my Callie with her Chelsea. If you’re not hiring, that’s all right. I’ve got a list I’m going down.”

“Have you ever done any waitressing?” Derrick asked her.

“I’ve cleared plenty of tables, served plenty of food. I’m not afraid of hard work. I’m only looking for part-time now, but—”

“Waitressing isn’t for you, Shelby,” Tansy began.

“All right. Thanks for listening, and for the Coke.”

“I’m not done. Derrick and I, we’ve been talking about adding some entertainment on Friday nights. We have,” she insisted when Derrick frowned.

“Talked about it, some.”

“Two Saturdays a month we have a live band, and we do good, strong business. We’d add to Friday night’s till with some entertainment. I’ll hire you right now, Shelby, to sing on Friday nights, eight to midnight.”

“Tansy, I appreciate your offering, but I haven’t done anything like that in years.”

“Do you still have your voice?”

“It’s not that . . .”

“We couldn’t pay a lot, at least until we see how it goes. Forty-minute sets, and ten of the twenty between you’d work the crowd some. Go around the tables. What I want is to try a kind of weekly theme.”

“She’s got ideas,” Derrick muttered, but with a spark of pride.

“I have good ideas.” With the ginger ale in one hand, Tansy tapped a finger on the bar. “And this good idea is we’d start off with the forties. Songs from the forties, specialty drinks from then. What did they drink back then? Martinis or boilermakers. I’ll figure that out,” she said, waving it aside.

“Next week it’s the fifties, and we work our way up. It’s all nostalgia. We’ll draw in a lot of people. I’ll get it set up. We’ll use a karaoke machine for now. Maybe if we do the expansion, we can get a piano, or we can hire a couple of musicians. For right now, to start, we’ll get that karaoke machine, Derrick, because we’re going to start doing Karaoke Mondays, too.”

“She’s got ideas,” he said again.

“I got one says people just love hearing themselves sing whether they can’t pipe out a single true note. They’ll be flocking in here Monday nights. And now Fridays, too. That’s what we’ll call it—just ‘Friday Nights.’ I know it’s only one night a week, Shelby, but that’ll give you room to find some day work if you need it.”

“Are you all right with all this?” Shelby asked Derrick.

“She manages the place. I just own it.”

“Not this Friday,” Tansy continued, steamrolling over them both. “It’s too soon, and I have things to put together. Next Friday. You’ll want to come in a couple times, rehearse, once I get it set up. We’re going to need that expansion, Derrick, once we get this going. You’d better talk to Matt and Griff, get that nailed right soon.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“So. Shelby?”

Shelby blew out a breath, drew in another. “All right. I’m in—and if it doesn’t work out, no hard feelings. But I’m in, and grateful. I’ll be your Friday Nights.”

S
he all but danced over to the salon.

“Why, don’t you look a treat,” Viola said the minute she stepped in. “Sissy, you remember my granddaughter, Shelby.”

That started a winding conversation with the woman in Viola’s chair while Viola removed a forest of enormous rollers and began the styling.

The minute she had an opening, Shelby announced her news.

“Won’t that be something? Tansy and her Derrick, they’re making something out of that place, and there you’ll be. A headliner.”

Shelby laughed, automatically shifting the basket of used rollers out of her grandmother’s way. “It’s only Friday nights, but—”

Sissy interrupted with a story about her daughter starring in the high school musical while Viola poofed her hair to twice its volume.

“I really should get on. I guess Mama’s doing a treatment.”

“Back-to-back facials. Tracey’s got Callie for a while yet, doesn’t she?” Viola asked. “I got a break coming up.”

“I still have a couple of stops to make. I thought I’d see if Mountain Treasures is hiring part-time, or maybe The What-Not Place as Tansy says they do well with tourists and locals.”

“I got some sweet Depression glass teacups there to go with my collection,” Sissy told her.

“It’s on my list. The Artful Ridge isn’t as they’re not hiring, at least not me as long as Melody Bunker has a say in it.”

“Melody’s been jealous of you since you were children.” Knowing her client, Viola sprayed a fierce cloud of holding spray over the mountain of hair. “You be grateful she didn’t hire you, baby girl. If you worked over there, she’d make your days a misery. There, Sissy. Big enough for you?”

“Oh now, Vi, you know I like to make a statement with my hair. God blessed me with plenty of it, so I like putting it to use. It looks just wonderful. Nobody does it up like you. I’m having lunch with my girlfriends,” she told Shelby. “Doing it fancy, up at the hotel.”

“Won’t that be fun?”

It took a few minutes more to scoot Sissy along, then Viola blew out a breath, sat in the chair. “Next time, I swear, I’ll just use a bicycle pump on that hair of hers. Now, how many days a week you thinking of working?”

“I could do three or four—maybe even five with shorter hours if I can work out a deal with Tracey, and maybe ask Mama to fill in with Callie otherwise. Any more than that, I’d have to see about taking her to day care.”

“That’d eat up your paycheck.”

“I was hoping to wait for the fall for it, give her time to settle in, but I may have to do it sooner. It’ll be good for her to be around other kids.”

“True enough. Here’s what I’m going to say to you. I don’t know why you’re going over to Mountain Treasures and other places when I can use you right here. You could help with the phones, the book, the stock and supplies, and the customers. And you could help keep things organized as you’ve got an organized nature. You find something you like better, that’s fine. But for right now, I could use you three days a week. Four when we’re busy. You could bring Callie in here and there. You spent plenty of your time in the salon when you were her age.”

“I did.”

“Did it hurt you any?”

“No, I loved it. I’ve got good memories of playing here, listening to the ladies talk, getting my hair and nails done like a grown-up. I don’t want to take advantage, Granny. I don’t want you to make work for me.”

“It’s not taking advantage or making work when I can use you. I can’t say you’d be doing me a favor as I’d have to pay you. It makes good sense, unless you just don’t want to work here.”

“I wish you would,” Crystal called over from her station. “It would save the rest of us from having to answer the phone or check the book for walk-ins if Dottie’s in the back or it’s her time off.”

“I could use you three days a week ten to three, and on Saturdays from nine to four when we’re hopping.” Viola paused, seeing the hesitation on Shelby’s face. “If you don’t take the job, I’ll have to hire somebody else. That’s a fact. Crystal?”

“That is a fact. We were just talking about looking for somebody to come in part-time.” With the rat-tail comb in her hand, Crystal crossed her heart. “I swear on it.”

“We’d need to go over some things as it’s been some time since you did any filling in around here,” Viola continued, “but you’re a bright girl. I expect you’d catch on quick.”

Shelby looked over at Crystal. “You’re swearing she’s not making busywork for me?”

“She sure isn’t. Dottie’s doing a lot of running between the salon and the treatment rooms, back in the locker and relaxation areas. And Sasha hardly has time for that anymore since she got her license and she’s doing face and body treatments. We keep up with it, but it would sure be nice to have somebody doing more of the running.”

“All right.” Shelby let out a surprised laugh. “I’d love to work here.”

“Then you’re hired. You can give me the hour you’d have spent going all around seeing about a job, and go in the back there. Towels should be dry by now. You could fold them and bring them out, put them at stations.”

Shelby leaned down, pressed her cheek to Viola’s. “Thank you, Granny.”

“You’ll be busy.”

“That’s just what I want,” Shelby said, and got to work.

•   •   •

B
Y THE TIME
she got home with Callie she’d worked out a doable schedule. She’d barter one day a week with Tracey, pay her for two days when Saturday was called for, and Ada Mae scooped up the other day as her “Gamma and Callie Day.”

Whenever it didn’t work, she’d take Callie with her.

Friday nights her mother and grandmother would switch off—their idea, she thought, as she pulled in the drive.

She could earn a decent enough living, her child would be well cared for. She couldn’t ask for more.

And as Callie got that glassy-eyed look on the short drive home, Shelby calculated she could get her down for a nap right off, then spend some time looking up songs from the forties, starting her playlist. With Callie half asleep on her shoulder, she started straight upstairs.

She made the turn toward Callie’s room, swaying and humming to keep her daughter in the nap zone, then let out a short scream when Griff stepped into the hallway.

Callie jumped in her arms, and rather than a short scream, blasted out a wailing screech.

“Sorry!” Griff dragged the earbuds off. “I didn’t hear you. Sorry. Your mother said— Hey, Callie, I’m sorry I scared you.”

Clutching Shelby, Callie stared at him, sobbing, then threw herself at him. He had to scramble forward, grab hold. Callie clung, crying on his shoulder.

“It’s okay. It’s all right.” He rubbed her back as he smiled at Shelby. “Your mother wants that new bathroom. I said I’d stop over first chance, make sure on the measurements. Wow, you look really good.”

“I’m just going to sit down a minute.” She did so, right on the top step. “I didn’t see your truck.”

“I walked over from Miz Bitsy’s. We’re just punching out there, so we can start here next week.”

“Next week?”

“Yeah.” He patted and jiggled as Callie’s tears dissolved into sniffles. “We’ve got a couple of little jobs, but we’ll juggle this in. I had music in my ears, so I didn’t hear you.”

“That’s okay. I probably didn’t need those last ten years of my life. I’m just going to put her down for her nap.”

“I’ve got it. Over in here, right?”

He stepped into Callie’s room. By the time Shelby pushed up, walked across, he had her on the bed, under her light blanket, and was quietly answering the singsong questions she often came up with at nap or bed time.

“Kiss,” Callie demanded.

“You got it.” He kissed her cheek, stood up, glanced at Shelby. “Is that it?”

“That’s it.” But she did a come-away motion, and eased out. “It’s only that easy because she wore herself out at Chelsea’s.”

“She smells like cherries.”

“Juice box, I imagine.”

And her mother smells like a mountain meadow—fresh and sweet and wild all at once. Maybe the word of the day should be “pheromones.”

“You really do look good.”

“Oh, I’ve been job hunting, tried to look presentable.”

“You went way over presentable into”—he caught himself on “hot”—“excellent. How’d you do on the job hunt?”

“I did great, out of the park with bases loaded.”

Jesus, baseball metaphor. He might have to marry her.

“I want a Coke,” she decided. “Do you want a Coke?”

“I wouldn’t turn one down.” Especially since it meant he got a little more time with her. “So what’s the job?”

“Now, that’s much too direct for around here,” she warned him as they started downstairs. “We have to work up to how I went about getting it.”

“Sorry, still shedding the Yankee.”

“Well, don’t shed it all, it works for you. What were you listening to?” She tapped her ears.

“Oh, it’s a pretty eclectic playlist, I guess. I think it was The Black Keys when I cut that ten years off your life. ‘Fever.’”

“At least I lost a decade to a song I like. Now to your question. First, I got my butt kicked and my ego flattened when I tried for a job at The Artful Ridge as my high school rival, at least in her mind, manages it.”

“Melody Bunker. I know her. She hit on me.”

“She did not.” Amazed, she stopped short, gaped up and gave him a chance to look close. Her eyes really were almost purple.

“Did she really?”

“She’d had a couple of drinks, and I was new in town.”

“Are you going to tell me if you hit back?”

“I thought about it,” he said as he walked to the kitchen with her. “She’s great to look at, but there’s that mean streak.”

“Not everyone—particularly those who are male—notice that.”

“I’ve got a pretty good eye for mean. She was with another girl, and there was a lot of . . . How do I put this without saying ‘meow’?”

“You can say it, it fits her. She’s always been catty. And she does have a mean streak, deep and wide. She tried her best to make me feel stupid and useless today, but she didn’t manage it. She’s following after a superior act in that area of mean, and fell short, well short.”

She caught herself, shook her head as she got out Cokes, glasses. “Doesn’t matter, and it was for the best. For more than the best.”

“What did she say to you—or is that too direct?”

“Oh, she started with snide little comments about my hair.”

“You have amazing hair. Magic mermaid hair.”

She laughed. “That’s a first. Magic mermaid hair. I’ll have to use that with Callie. In any case, Mean Melody got in a few jabs about my current circumstance, which I tolerated as I wanted the damn job. She moved on, though, trying to scrape me down to the bone, how I wasn’t qualified, didn’t have enough class, basically, or intelligence, and it was clear I didn’t have a cherry snow cone’s chance in hell of working there, so I landed a few jabs of my own, with, I will say, more subtlety and style.”

“I just bet.”

With a cool, sharp smile, Shelby poured Cokes over ice. “She was so steamed up when I was leaving she shouted out how she’d been second-runner-up Miss Tennessee, which is her spotlight of fame. To that, I ended the encounter with the southern woman’s sweetest and most pitying insult.”

“I know that.” He pointed a finger. “I know that one. You said ‘Bless your heart.’”

“Haven’t you caught on fast?” After topping off the glasses, she handed him one. “I knew that one landed, but I was so fired up, I marched over to the bar and grill. I was going to ask Tansy to hire me on as a waitress. I met Derrick—and doesn’t he look like an action movie star.”

“I hadn’t thought of it.”

“You’d be looking at him as a man does. From a woman’s eyes?” She laughed again, waved a hand in front of her face. “Lucky Tansy—and lucky Derrick because she’s a sweet, smart, sensible woman. So after I apologized for being rude to him, because I was fired up, they didn’t want me for a waitress.”

“Sounds like a rough day on the job hunt.”

“Not at all. They wanted me for Friday nights, to sing. I’m going to be their Friday night entertainment. Or, as Tansy’s calling it, I’m going to be Friday Nights.”

“No kidding? That’s great, Red, seriously great. Everybody says you can sing. Sing something.”

“No.”

“Come on, a couple of bars of anything.”

“Come into Bootlegger’s a week from Friday, and you’ll hear plenty.” After lifting her glass to him, she took a satisfied drink. “Then, because that’s not all, I went in to tell Granny before I hit a couple other possible places for day jobs, and she cornered me into working part-time there. She made me believe she could really use me, so I’m hoping she meant it.”

“In my shorter experience, Miz Vi usually means what she says.”

“It’s true enough, and Crystal swore to it they’d already talked about hiring someone part-time. So, I didn’t just get a job, I got two. I’m employed, gainfully. God, it feels so good.”

“Want to celebrate?” He watched her eyes go from sparkling happy to just a little wary. “Maybe we could get Matt and Emma Kate, go have dinner.”

“Oh, that sounds like fun, it really does, but I need to buckle down, work out a playlist. Tansy wants to change it up every week, so I’ve got some research to do. And there’s Callie, though it’s likely to be more of a weight on me leaving her for hours at a time than for her leaving me.”