The Yellow Rose Beauty Shop (6 page)

“I know exactly what you mean. All I have to do is think of that damn sign and I want to cry all over again or strangle Heather,” Stella said.

Piper cleared her throat. “Yes, I’d love a coffee. You know before Mama died last year, she told me that time would fly and soon the boys would be grown and I should spend every minute I could with them. Her one regret was that she had to work and didn’t have chocolate chip cookies on the table for me after school. I remember that Nancy always had cookies or banana bread for you. And I’m not trying to guilt you. I just wish I could talk to her about all this and I can’t because you are my friend and you are more important but, oh, hell, it’s all tangled up and I can’t express what I’m trying to say.” She pushed back her half-eaten burger.

“Hey, what’s going on? You both look like you are about to cry.” Charlotte set her food on the table. “Are the boys playing?”

“Yes, they are, and don’t discuss anything until I get back. I’m going for coffee,” Stella said.

She wished she could talk to her mother, too. She wished that she could tell her that she didn’t need a husband because she already had one but first they had to make sure that Jed’s job was secure. In two years the church would be used to Stella as the preacher’s wife, but letting the cat out of the bag now could be a disaster. She’d seen it happen when she was a teenager, and Cadillac hadn’t changed all that much.

She didn’t have to stand in line, so in just a few minutes she returned with two large cups of coffee. “Now tell us both, what’s that bastard Gene done now?”

“It was the pancakes. I held it together until one of the boys mentioned pancakes,” Piper said and went on to tell them what Gene had said. “He never, ever brought me breakfast in bed. Not one time. Not even when we were first married.”

“He’s probably just saying that to rile you up,” Charlotte said.

“Well, it worked. Especially the part about taking her nieces to Six Flags.”

“He really is a sorry bastard for doing that. He should have taken Luke and Tanner,” Stella said.

“Boone and the guys are all cooking fish tonight at the park and he said to invite you and the kids. They’ll get lots of attention there and it’ll be more fun than an old amusement park, anyway. It’s Gene’s loss, believe me,” Charlotte said.

Piper wiped her eyes and a smile broke through the tears. “What time and what can I bring?”

“Not a thing. Boone said it was all covered,” Charlotte said.

“Oh, no, I need to do something, and cooking helps calm my nerves and keeps me from cussin’ in front of the boys. I’ll make potato salad and baked beans. You call Boone and tell him I’m bringing enough of both to feed an army.”

Luke and Tanner ran back to see if Stella and Charlotte were finished eating. “We done slid down three times and we’re ready for ice cream.”

“You guys want to go to a fish fry at the park tonight? Boone and Charlotte have invited us,” Piper asked.

“This for sure is the bestest weekend ever. I’ll bring my Frisbee and baseball,” Luke said.

“Hey, Mama, can we I borrow your phone?” Tanner asked.

“Why?”

“I want to tell Boone thank you and to tell him to bring his ball glove,” Tanner said.

Charlotte handed her phone to Tanner. “Use mine. It’s speed dial one, honey. He should answer real quick. He was going home to get everything ready and finish cleaning the fish for tonight and then take a nap, but he’s not asleep yet.”

Luke followed his brother to the far corner of the restaurant, made the phone call, and then bet his brother he could beat him to the car. They barely stopped long enough to give the phone to Charlotte before the race was on.

“Competition. Mercy heavens, it’s always a competition between them. They’re in such a hurry they forgot ice cream,” Piper said. “See y’all this evening, and thanks.”

“For what?” Stella asked.

“For being here for me when I cry over pancakes.”

C
HAPTER
F
IVE

S
tella’s small white frame house with a picket fence around the yard was located three blocks south of Agnes’s big two-story that sat right on Main Street. Her beauty shop was two blocks east of Agnes’s house and the park was two blocks east and one north of that. It was a hot summer night but she hadn’t gone for a run in more than a week and although she wouldn’t dream of showing up all sweaty to a fish fry with her friends, it wouldn’t hurt her to walk eight blocks. Besides, her mama said that southern women might get all dewy but sweating was for menfolks, not ladies.

A pang of sorrow washed over her. She missed her mother and the Sunday dinner and she wanted to tell her all about that rotten Gene and invite her to the fish fry, but she couldn’t. Damn Heather and her precious Prayer Angels, anyway!

She dressed in denim shorts, a bright-red tank top, and her walking shoes, put on a baseball cap, pulled her curly red ponytail out of the hole in the back, and shoved her house key into her pocket. A hot wind picked up sometime during the second block. She passed a house with little kids playing in the water hose and wished that she was four again so she could romp through spraying water in her underpants.

Thirst had set in by the third block. She’d just proven for absolute certain that dew was something that appeared on the grass and had nothing to do with pure old sweat.

“What in the hell are you doing walkin’ in this weather, tryin’ to kill yourself? Get yourself up here on this porch with me before you drop down dead with a heatstroke, girl,” Agnes yelled.

Stella didn’t have to be told or invited twice. She climbed the steps out of the blistering-hot evening sun and sank into a chair. Agnes poured a glass of ice-cold sweet tea and handed it to her.

“Drink and don’t come up for air until it’s half-gone. You damn kids don’t have a lick of sense. You don’t go out walkin’ or runnin’ in hun’erd-degree weather. You sit on the porch and drink sweet tea. Where are you goin’, anyway? Shop is closed today and tomorrow both,” Agnes asked.

Stella gulped several times before setting the glass back down on the small table between the two chairs. “Boone and his buddies are having a fish fry at the park. I haven’t run in several days and I thought the exercise would be good for me.”

“Well, this ain’t the day to start again. We’ve got our first real heat blast of the summer. Weatherman said it was up more than a hundred degrees, but the sumbitch lied. It’s only five degrees cooler than hell. Drink some more. If you die on my porch, Nancy will come huntin’ me down, thinkin’ that I done let you die before she got her grandbaby. I’d hate to have to kill your mama with my old shotgun in a showdown right out there in the street,” Agnes said.

“I’m not going to die,” Stella said.

Not now that she’d been rehydrated with sweet tea, bless Agnes’s heart.

“Of course you ain’t. I saved you. I told you, us redheads got to stick together,” Agnes said.

Stella looked at the two glasses on the table. “How did you know I’d be walkin’ past here today and need a glass of tea?”

Agnes smiled. “I didn’t. I always bring two glasses because Beulah has a sixth sense and knows when I come out for a breath of fresh air. I got tired of going back in the house to get a glass for her, so I just go on ahead and bring out two.”

Stella glanced over at the house across the street. “Why isn’t she here, then?”

“Jack and Carlene took her out for a snow cone up in Sherman. She don’t drive anymore and she loves snow cones. They invited me to go with them. I’m glad I didn’t since I had to save your hide this evening. Drink the rest of that and I’ll drive you on down to the park,” Agnes said.

“Miz Agnes, I can walk that far. It’s only five blocks,” Stella argued.

“Not on my watch. If you die, they’ll shut up the beauty shop until the funeral is over and I won’t get to see them women’s faces when they realize they done sweat through a bake sale for nothing. Besides, my black suit is too little and I ain’t buyin’ another one at my age so I’m not going to no more funerals and it would sure look bad if I didn’t attend yours since we’re both redheaded and all,” Agnes told her.

“You wouldn’t go to Violet’s funeral if she died? I thought y’all had a bet going as to who was going to outlive the other one,” Stella asked.

“Yes, I’d go to that old bat’s funeral, but I’d go in my overalls and my flip-flops just to see if I could get her to rise up out of that coffin.” Agnes giggled again. “Now you sit right here and I’ll get my truck keys. Piper or Charlotte can take you home. You got to take care of yourself, girl. We got us a war fixin’ to start come Wednesday mornin’ and I can’t wait for it to get going.”

“Only way I’ll let you take me to the park is if you stay with me and drive me back home when the fish fry is over,” Stella said.

“Well, hell, I thought you’d never ask. I ain’t been to a good outdoor fish fry in years. Fold up your lawn chair and mine and throw them in the back of the truck so we’ll have something to sit on. I’ll get the keys and my purse.” Agnes didn’t leave any room for argument.

“How about the tea and the glasses?”

“Let ’em set there. It’ll draw in a bunch of ants and mosquitoes and drown ’em. There’ll be less to pester me the rest of the summer. Meet me at the truck. I’ll come through the kitchen door,” Agnes said.

Stella had just tossed the chairs into the back of the truck when she heard rubber flip-flops slapping against the hot concrete driveway. She crawled into the passenger’s side and gasped.

“Leave the door open a minute to let the hot air out. Feels like a bake oven in here but there ain’t no need in turnin’ on the air-conditioning since it won’t kick in cool until we get there, so roll down the window. It’s still better than walkin’ or runnin’, for God’s sake.” Agnes threw her purse on the wide front seat and hopped up into the driver’s seat. “I’m tickled to get to go. Ain’t a damn thing on the television that I like on Sunday night. Don’t tell me that self-righteous Heather is coming or I’m going back home and watchin’ them flies drown.”

“I hope Heather isn’t there. I can’t imagine who’d invite her,” Stella answered.

“Well, Quinn does go fishin’ sometimes with Boone and Rhett, so I didn’t know. It’s a good thing she’s not coming. She’d probably die of heat exhaustion in them panty hose, anyway. I did offer to bring something to their bake sale tomorrow but she told me I wasn’t on the prayer committee and they didn’t want anything from me. I guess they’re afraid of my prayers.”

Stella smiled. “That might be a compliment. Have you ever heard of a marriage ministry before?”

“Hell, no! I heard of a singing ministry but not a marriage one. That’s the biggest crock of bullshit I ever heard.” Agnes giggled as she stopped at the only red light on Main Street, looked both ways, and went on.

Stella grabbed the armrest and held on until her fingers turned white. “That light wasn’t green yet.”

“Nothing was comin’ and I ain’t got time to sit there and wait for it to turn green when the fish is fryin’.”

“Miz Agnes, if you don’t obey the law, they’ll take your license away from you.”

Agnes harrumphed loudly. “I don’t give a shit. Hell, I’ll give my license to them or cut it up right in front of them. I don’t need a damn license to drive. Hell, girl, I was drivin’ a truck when I had to sit on a pillow to see over the steering wheel back when I wasn’t but nine years old. Daddy needed an extra field hand to bring in the hay and I wasn’t big enough to throw the bales up on the truck, but I could damn sure drive. So they can have my license. I don’t need it to drive.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Stella said.

“Here we are. Take a deep breath. If that ain’t the best-smellin’ fish I’ve got a whiff of in years, then my name ain’t Agnes Flynn.” She bailed out of the truck and looked over her shoulder. “You bring the chairs. Well, would you look at that? Preacher Jed is here. Did you invite him? How come he didn’t bring you if you did?”

“I did not invite him, and why would he bring me to the fish fry?” Stella said.

Agnes turned around and came back to the truck. She leaned on the fender and whispered, “Well, you should have. I heard that your mama said they could give them money orders for haircuts to anyone but Preacher Jed or Rhett Monroe. The preacher is the one I think you should set your hat for. That’d really be the highlight of the war.”

“Why wouldn’t Mama want me to marry Rhett or Jed?” Stella asked.

“One’s a skirt chaser, which might make her grandbaby a skirt chaser, too. The other one is a preacher and you know what they say about preacher’s kids bein’ the meanest kids in town. I don’t reckon she wants either one, so she’d best be tellin’ God some real specific instructions about that husband you need so bad,” Agnes answered.

“Agnes!”

“Well, they would.” Agnes giggled. “Come on, girl. Let’s go have some fun. Tomorrow I might just let it slip at Clawdy’s when I go over there for breakfast that I saw you and the preacher flirting. Or maybe I’ll start a rumor that you are seeing both Jed and Rhett and that you might be sleeping with both of them to see if a holy man or if a devil in tight blue jeans does it better.”

Stella stopped in her tracks. “Agnes!”

Agnes slapped her thigh. “I’m just jokin’. I don’t care if you have a feller but don’t tell nobody who it is. Well, you could tell me but nobody else or it would end all the fun.”

Stella grabbed the chairs. Her father waved so she had no choice but to head toward the picnic table where he and Jed sat. Everett met her halfway and took the chairs from her, carried them the rest of the way, and popped them out.

“Boone invited Preacher Jed to the fish fry. I didn’t know that he was a fisherman until tonight. We’re going out tomorrow evening on my boat after it cools down to see if we can catch some crappie. I hear they’re runnin’ pretty good,” Everett said.

“That mean we might have another fish fry before long?” Agnes asked.

“If we catch enough, we’ll get Boone to bring his fryer and have one in a couple of weeks at my place. That way Nancy can be there. She’s at some kind of church foo-rah tonight talkin’ about that prayer shit they do on Thursdays. Looks to me like one night a week would be enough. Just pray and leave it in the good Lord’s hands, but oh, no, we got to talk about prayin’ before we do it,” Everett said.

Jed touched the tip of his baseball cap. “Miz Agnes. Miz Stella. I believe summer has arrived.”

“It damn sure has. How long are you going to leave that sign up down at the church?” Agnes asked.

Stella fought the blush turning her cheeks bright crimson, but she lost.

“Heather takes care of that sign, so you’ll have to ask her.” Jed smiled.

“Brother Jed! Brother Jed!” Piper’s boys jumped out of her car and went running before she could make them help her carry food and paper plates to the pavilion where Boone and Charlotte were frying fish and hush puppies.

Piper saw both Charlotte and Stella wore jean shorts and tank tops. Why hadn’t she called them before she went to all the trouble to iron the red-and-white-checkered dress that made her feel like she was wearing a picnic tablecloth now that she was at the park? Charlotte had pulled her brown hair up in a short ponytail and Stella had a baseball cap on.

Piper had curled her hair and now it was sticking to her neck. She’d put on makeup and was sweating it all off. All she needed was a bow and a quiver of arrows on her back and she could be one of those Amazon women from the jungle who’d overdressed for a damn picnic in the park.

“They’re too excited to see Jed to help me carry things and y’all should have told me to wear shorts,” she whispered when they arrived to help carry the food to the picnic table.

“You look great,” Charlotte said. “The way that Luke and Tanner are all excited about the preacher, maybe you should use the fact that you’re the prettiest one here tonight to flirt with him.”

“I should’ve worn shorts,” she whispered.

Stella picked up a huge bowl of potato salad. “We feel like ugly ducklings up beside you. Maybe we should go home and change.”

Using two oven mitts, Charlotte picked up the oversize Crock-Pot of baked beans. “These smell scrumptious. Wait until the preacher realizes that you cook as well as you look.”