The Yellow Rose Beauty Shop (27 page)

BOOK: The Yellow Rose Beauty Shop
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“Good advice,” Jed said.

“Yes, it is. Now dig into those brownies and I’ll pour y’all up a cup of coffee and then we’ll go load up the boys’ room.”

Charlotte hurried on to the bedroom and grabbed an armload of little boys’ clothing. As she was going out the door, Rosalee parked her old car across the street and made her way to the porch.

“I thought you were going to see Agnes,” she said.

“I did but thought y’all might need some supervisin’.”

“Nancy is doin’ a fine job of that,” Charlotte said.

“I’m older than she is and I got more experience.” She smiled. “Besides, she said she was bringing soup, and I want a bowl.”

“And brownies,” Charlotte whispered.

“Honey, I can do a hell of a lot of supervisin’ for some of Nan
cy’s brownies. Besides, I’m here to check out the—what is it y’all call them things? Now I remember—the vibes between Rhett and Piper. Agnes said I’m to report to her tonight after y’all finish up here no matter how late it is.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Agnes says I’m supposed to spy on Stella, too, and to call her if I smell a rat.”

“You got the story going about why Piper’s moving?”

“My friend is on the phone right now. I only have to tell my next-door neighbor a little bit of something and she’s like that television show where they said, ‘Take it away.’ By morning the stories will be wild and woolly, believe me. Now step aside before them men eat up all the brownies,” Rosalee said.

“You and Agnes sure do have a chocolate sweet tooth,” Charlotte said.

“Comes from growing up poor. We can just smell chocolate and our noses follow the scent. Anything going on between Piper and Rhett? I’ve got to report to Agnes and I need something.”

Charlotte smiled. “I thought you and Agnes were both like God and knew everything.”

“No, that’s Heather, not us. And the big man is going to strike her graveyard dead with a lightning bolt one of these days for thinkin’ like that. Marriage ministry! If that ain’t the biggest crock of shit I’ve ever heard.” Rosalee headed toward the kitchen, mumbling the whole way.

That Rosalee was a hoot—not as big or as flamboyant in her
ways as Agnes but still a woman to be reckoned with. Maybe Char
lotte could grow up to be just like Rosalee. Then she and Stella could grow old together and keep Cadillac from falling apart.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY-
T
HREE

H
eather had never shown her face in the Yellow Rose but that was the only explanation that crossed Stella’s mind when the buzz in the shop stopped so fast. Stella carefully peeked out from around the partition in front of the shampoo sink to see what was going on.

“Well, hello, Irene,” Stella called out, relieved that it was Char
lotte’s mama and not Heather coming to stir up trouble. She had enough on her plate as it was, what with still not being able to find a way to sneak off to Sherman and buy a test. Not that she really needed the thing, because she hadn’t been sick again and she had been under a lot of stress. Still it would be great to see that thing say
not pregnant
for sure.

Charlotte’s mother raised her free hand. In the other one she carried a plastic bag with what looked like a bull-necked football player’s head inside. It didn’t look heavy enough to transport something that big, but then, Irene was a big strong woman. Tall, rawboned, with short brown hair, she looked like she wouldn’t take a bit of sass from anyone: male, female, or rowdy steers.

“How are you girls? I heard that you moved last night, Piper. I brought the bridal bouquet. I worked on it all night and I want your opinion, ladies.”

Agnes was sitting in Charlotte’s chair getting her roots touched up. Piper was busy trimming Alma Grace’s hair and Stella had just finished shampooing Trixie’s hair. They all six stopped and watched the bouquet come up out of the plastic by degrees.

“I never had a wedding,” Irene said. “When I married Char
lotte’s daddy, we just went to the courthouse and came home to a tiny little garage apartment down south of town. I wanted a bouquet or a corsage, but we barely had the money for the marriage license after we paid a month’s rent. What do you think?”

“It’s beautiful!” Alma Grace squealed. “That is spectacular.”

“I thought about making it out of real flowers, but if she has silk, then she can keep it forever.” Irene beamed.

“That’s a hell of a lot of work,” Agnes said.

Stella couldn’t take her eyes off the arrangement of pink hydrangeas, three lovely silk roses, baby’s breath, ferns, lace, and satin. It was a work of art but she was still glad that she and Jed had decided to go the courthouse when they got married.

“Oh, Mama, it’s beautiful,” Charlotte gasped.

“Really? You aren’t just saying that?”

Charlotte left Agnes in the chair and hugged her mother. “No, Mama, I mean it. It’s the prettiest bouquet I’ve ever seen. You did an awesome job on it.” She reached out to gingerly touch a bit of lace. “I love the little touches of lace and satin you’ve tucked into it. And is that Grandma’s cameo on the stem?”

Irene’s smile lit up the whole shop. “Yes, it is. Here, you hold it. See how it feels in your hands. Pretend you are walking down the aisle with it. Is it too heavy?”

Charlotte took the bouquet from her mother and carried it all the way back to the door, then she turned around and nodded at Stella. “Music, please.”

Stella began to hum the “Wedding March” and Charlotte held the bouquet at waist level and slowly strolled across the tile floor to her station. “It’s not too heavy, Mama. Real flowers would have weighed a lot more. Now can I keep this one or do we have to make a dozen more?”

“Oh, hush.” Irene wiped her eyes. “You looked like an angel carrying that, but when you are coming in the church, walk a little bit slower. Boone needs time to catch his breath. If you go too fast, he’ll still be stuttering when you reach the front.”

Charlotte handed the bouquet back to her mother. “Yes, ma’am. Now, why don’t you sit down and wait until I get done with Agnes and then I’ll pamper you a little bit today. How about a haircut, shampoo, and set?”

“With real rollers and the hair dryer?” Irene carefully tucked the bouquet back into the plastic bag. “Put this in the back room. We don’t want anyone else to see it.”

“Miz Irene, I thought I wanted real flowers for my bouquet, but after seeing what you’ve done, I’ve changed my mind. Would you make me one of those?” Alma Grace asked. “And smaller versions for my bridesmaids? Maybe you could go with me to buy the flowers and give me some ideas?”

“What would Sugar think?” Irene asked.

“You’ve got to show her that bouquet. She’s going to love it. And when my wedding is over, I’m going to have a shadowbox made for mine so I can hang it on the wall above the credenza in the foyer. Pink and silver are my colors. I want lots of bling, so be thinking along those lines. Will you do it for me?” Alma Grace begged.

“I would love to,” Irene said.

“You want a cup of coffee?” Piper asked. “It’s brewing in the back room and there’s what’s left of a pan of brownies back there.”

“I’d love both,” Irene said.

Charlotte leaned down and whispered into Alma Grace’s ear, “That was so sweet.”

“Sweet nothing!” Alma Grace exclaimed. “We’ve searched and searched for silver flowers and pink only comes in roses and gladiolus. I want something unique that no one else has ever had or will ever have. Your mama is a genius.”

Piper poked Charlotte on the arm. “Did you know that about your mama’s wedding?”

Charlotte shook her head. “But from now on this one is hers to do with what she wants. I want to be married. The wedding isn’t as important as the marriage. Nancy taught me that.”

Irene carried a brownie on a napkin in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. She sat down at the table at the same time Stella wrapped a towel around Trixie’s head and the two of them went back to Stella’s station.

“Well, Trixie, I didn’t know that was you over there,” Irene said. “How is your mama? I always loved Janie. She always had a lovely smile for everyone, no matter who they were.”

“She has good days and bad days. Seems that lately the good ones are few and far between,” Trixie said.

“I need to go see her. We grew up right next door to each other. Played paper dolls in my front yard lots and lots of days. Do you think she’ll know me?” Irene asked.

“Seems like she knows folks from that time more than those she knew in her twenties or thirties,” Trixie said.

“There was less stress in those days,” Irene said.

“But still just as much scandal and gossip,” Trixie said.

“Some things never change, honey.” Irene nodded. “But I always admired your mama for doing what she did. She might have thought that boy was her soul mate when she left town with him, but when she figured out he wasn’t, she didn’t just marry him because you were on the way. Town might always remember her for that, but me, I remember her pretty smile.”

“Thank you.” Trixie flashed a smile.

“Some folks like to relive the negative gossip. We’d all be better off if we had one of them delete buttons like on a computer on our memories. We could hit it when the gossip is malicious like it was with your mama, and like it was with Stella.” She paused and looked around the room that had gone quiet. “Never could figure out why folks acted like they did with either one of them. And I’m right sorry to bring this up, Stella, but Charlotte says it’s been worryin’ you lately.”

“Thank you.” Stella hugged Irene. “You are so sweet.”

“Just callin’ it like it should be. Now let’s talk about this barbecue ball. I swear I ain’t never heard of anything so silly in my life.”

“You gossipin’, Mama?” Charlotte chuckled.

“No, I am not. I’m statin’ my opinion. Gossip is unfounded bullshit. Opinions are ours by rights of the Constitution.”

Nancy parked close to the door into the fellowship hall and hurried across the hot parking lot inside the cool church. Heather was already standing behind the podium with her minions sitting around a long table. She shot a dirty look Nancy’s way and tilted her head up.

“We had given up on you. This is our last meeting before the ball and we’re just going over our duties one more time,” she said.

Without the gold fingernail, she didn’t look nearly as authoritative. She wore a navy-blue pantsuit with a red-and-white-patterned silk shell under the jacket, a sparkly red crystal cross pin on her lapel, and red high-heeled shoes.

Nancy sat down in the only empty chair. “So how are we doing with the expenditures and the sold tickets? Are we working in the black or the red?”

“Floy.” Violet frowned.

Floy opened a hard-sided briefcase and brought out Heather’s notebook. She handed it to her and Heather flipped open the cover. “As of today we are a thousand dollars in the red, but we will make that up with tickets sold at the door and with the donations for the best barbecue. We only have a few more things to purchase—the angel candlesticks for the winner, and of course we will have to pay the bills for some of the inside decorations. The air conditioners and the tablecloths are paid for.”

Annabel raised her hand and said, “We will sell lots more tickets. Folks often wait until the last week to buy and I know several people who’ve bought dresses but haven’t bought tickets. You were a genius, Heather, to come up with the idea of each girl who buys a ticket bringing her own special barbecue.”

That was the last straw and she’d done her duty, so Nancy stood up and said, “I am resigning from the Angels. I will not be attending any more Thursday night meetings. I’m going to be too busy. I was going to wait until after the barbecue ball but since Everett and I are not responsible for the food, I’m resigning now. Good luck, Heather, with the rest of the preparations. I’ll be bringing my own special recipe for pulled pork in a Crock-Pot and I’d appreciate any donations y’all want to put in my can.”

“You can’t resign.” Heather raised her voice. “One does not simply resign from praying.”

“I’ll continue to pray, but not on Thursday nights with all y’all.”

“I forbid it. I will not accept your resignation,” Heather said in a louder voice.

Nancy started for the door. “I can damn well do whatever the hell I want.”

Heather’s voice raised another octave and got downright squeaky. “Don’t you swear in the church. You aren’t fit for the Angels.”

Nancy smiled. “You got it, darlin’.”

Beulah went to wringing her hands. “Please tell me you aren’t going to change churches.”

“Hell, no!” Nancy said. “I’m staying right here. It’s where I’ve gone my whole life, but I’m finished with committees and clubs. I’ve got a life to live and I don’t need any of this drama.”

“Well said, Nancy,” Rosalee said from just inside the door.

Heather turned her attention and fury in that direction. “What are you doing here? You don’t go to church here anymore. You go down to that one on Main Street with Agnes.”

“Making sure that you don’t shoot Nancy or scratch her eyes out since Agnes is laid up and can’t take care of the job,” Rosalee said.

“The both of you can get out of here. That is an order,” Heather said. “I heard you were down at Piper Stephens’s place last night helping her move into the house with Rhett Monroe. Anyone that sanctions that kind of immorality shouldn’t be allowed in our church.”

Rosalee grinned so big that her eyes disappeared. “Hell, Heather, if we kicked out all the sinners, who’d pay the tithes to keep this place runnin’? It does require a lot of money to pay the electric bill, the water bill, and buy toilet paper. And I bet you dollars to cow shit that you and Quinn did some hanky-panky before you got married. We just didn’t know it because it went on in Ripley instead of Cadillac.”

Nancy picked up the cue. “I thought she was from Tulsa? Where in the hell is Ripley?”

“It’s a suburb of Tulsa,” Heather stammered.

“I see. Well, I’ll be leaving. Y’all have a good day,” Nancy said.

“Ripley is fifty miles from Tulsa. That’s too damn far to be a suburb,” Rosalee said. “It’s a little bitty town that’s only a third the size of Cadillac, so stop puttin’ on airs.”

Heather tossed her head back in a defiant gesture as she flipped on the overhead projector and showed everyone the table placement. “I’m not discussing where I was raised. Now, this is the way that the tables will be arranged. The buffet tables will be lined up at the back. I did it that way so the traffic could flow down both sides, so you might keep that in mind as you get set up. And right here will be a curtained-off place to use as a workstation. We don’t want trash cans and such cluttering up our lovely ball.”

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