Beauty and the Mustache (12 page)

I shook my head and
grinned at the memory. “I was five and thought makeup consisted of
only lipstick, meaning in order to put makeup on I just needed to
put lipstick everywhere and it would magically do what it needed to
do.”

Sandra leaned in close to
my mom and said, “That’s how she puts on makeup now, too.” Her tone
was conspiratorial and her expression serious. “We’re all too
polite to correct her. It’s very awkward when we go to the circus;
everyone thinks she works there.”

Marissa and Elizabeth laughed.

“
Sandra, I’ve known you
three days, and I can’t imagine politeness stops you from saying
anything.” My mother grinned and winked at my friend.

Sandra sighed. “It’s true.
What is this politeness of which you speak?”

Momma laughed but then her
breath hitched, and she winced and closed her eyes.

The mood in the room
changed instantly. My hands balled into fists. Both Marissa and I
stood and crossed to the bed as Joe handed Momma the remote that
controlled the morphine pump. “Bethany, you shouldn’t be afraid to
use the medication,” he said to her, his tone warm and kind. “It’s
meant to help.”

Momma nodded and pressed
the button once. “I know.” Her voice was gravelly, unsteady. “I
think maybe I’m just tired.”

Elizabeth and Sandra
exchanged looks then stood and began clearing dishes.

“
Oh, girls, don’t go yet,”
Momma protested.

“
Don’t think you can get
rid of us,” Sandra said over her shoulder, pausing just inside the
door to the den. “We’ll be back. We’re just going to steal your
daughter for a bit while we make dinner, but after that, we’re
coming in to do those tequila shots.”

“
You better rest up,
Bethany,” Marissa said, giving my mother a teasing look, referring
to Sandra when she added, “Texas girls mean business.”

Momma’s medicine was
already kicking in when we left. Marissa offered to stay behind
just in case she woke up so I could help Sandra and Elizabeth with
dinner.

We’d made it just three
steps down the hall when we were stopped by Roscoe. He gave us all
a warm smile. I noted that he had a vase of wildflowers in his
hands. Often, over the last several days, I had mused that Roscoe
reminded me of a puppy—eager to please and hungry for
affection.

“
Hey! Is Momma still up?”
he asked.

“
Uh, kind of,” I said.
“She’s just resting now.”

His face fell just
slightly and he sighed. “Ah, well. I’ll just poke my head in and
leave these by her bed, maybe sit with her for a while.”

“
What’s going on?” Billy
appeared at the end of the hall and walked toward us.

He looked like he’d just
come home from work. Apparently, he worked all the time, because
today was Saturday, and he’d already put in some long hours during
the workweek, coming home after 7:00 p.m. every day.

Sandra stepped forward and
threw her thumb over her shoulder. “Go on in, Roscoe. Marissa is in
there already; you could keep her company.” The subtle shift in
Sandra’s tone had me looking at her with suspicion.

Roscoe’s eyes brightened.
“Really?”

Billy scowled. “What’s she
doing here? I thought she only worked during the week.”

“
She was training the
weekend nurse,” Elizabeth said, shimmying past my brothers on her
way to the kitchen. “We’ve invited her to stay for
dinner.”

Billy grumbled something
then turned, and walked down the hall toward the living room, but
Roscoe stood a little straighter, his eyes moving to the
den.

“
Go on in, handsome,”
Sandra said, giving him a little grin.

He nodded once then walked
past us to the door, tapping lightly before entering.

I watched Billy walk away, feeling a wistful
sense of regret. He made me feel a bit like a usurper, like I was
down here playing a role. Or maybe his frosty attitude toward me
magnified my own feelings on the subject.

I caught Sandra eyeing me up and down, so I
returned her assessing stare.

“
What?” I said.

“
What?” she
retorted.

I narrowed my eyes further
as we walked into the kitchen. “Want to tell me what’s going
on?”

Elizabeth was already
bustling about the kitchen, pulling out pots and pans and
vegetables.

“
Oh, nothing,” Sandra said
breezily, and I noticed she was rinsing the glasses with more vigor
than necessary. “By the way, did you see that you have a summer
garden in the backyard?” she continued. “I asked your mother about
it this morning during our one-on-one Sandra-and-Bethany coffee
time. She planted the seeds a few weeks ago, but forgot about it.
You have tomato plants, squash, lettuce, and green beans coming
up.”

“
Okay….”

“
Where’s the good Dr.
Runous? He’s been scarce these last few days.” Sandra’s topic
change gave me whiplash, and I blinked in confusion, trying to keep
up.

“
I…don’t know.”

“
You probably scared him
away.” Elizabeth’s eyes flickered to Sandra’s and her voice was
low. It sounded like a warning.

I’d definitely noticed
Drew’s absence. I’d seen him twice over the last three days and
only in passing when he, Jethro, Billy, and Roscoe returned from
some sort of exercise. They’d all walked in, hot and sweaty, both
times. Drew had stopped to talk with Momma for a bit, but then he’d
disappeared, and I’d been left with the image of a hot and sweaty
Drew imprinted on my brain.

I didn’t like that I’d
noticed how very, very nice Drew looked after a period of heavy
exertion. Therefore, I redoubled my efforts to push him from my
mind. I wasn’t in Tennessee to ogle Drew-flavored eye-candy. I was
here to take care of my mother. Besides, more and more—as he seemed
to be going out of his way to avoid me—I got the impression that he
had mixed feelings toward me as well.

Sandra nodded to confirm
Elizabeth’s warning. “You also have eight roosters,” she said, back
on the topic of random farm observations.

I blinked, startled by the
number, and—again—the new subject. “Eight? What do we need eight
roosters for?”

“
I don’t know. Bethany
said she was planning on butchering all of them but one, but never
got around to it. You really only need one rooster to keep the hens
in line, and the hens are strictly for laying eggs. Can you imagine
how frustrating it must be for all those roosters, hanging around,
crowing up a storm, picking fights with each other? I’m surprised
one of them hasn’t flown the coop. That’s why there’s that constant
ruckus outside. You need to eat some of those cocks before you end
up with a rooster situation.”

I blinked at her with a
deadpan expression, refusing to take the bait.

With lightning speed,
Sandra once again changed the subject. “Oh, and I like your hospice
nurse, Marissa. She’s totally sassy. Your brothers are already
fighting for her affections. I wish I could stick around and see
who ends up on top….” Sandra paused and lifted her eyebrow for
emphasis, “… of Marissa.”

“
Could you be any more
gauche?” Elizabeth shook her head.

Sandra snorted, wiped her
hands, and crossed to Elizabeth. “Don’t pretend like you’re
shocked. You’re a pervy perv too. And you’re wondering the same
thing. My money is on Billy.”

“
Billy? He barely
acknowledges her.” Sandra paused. “No, I’m thinking Roscoe. He’s
very charming, and he looks like he knows how to wield his
axe.”

“
Oh, my God, they’re my
brothers! Ugh.” A bubble of laughter escaped me and I shook my
head, trying to keep my expression stern. I recognized what they
were doing. They were trying to distract me from my grief and worry
by being silly and gross. It was working.

“
Everyone in this house
needs some sexual healing. Marissa said she had sisters. I wonder
how many she has. If you still don’t want to get on Drew, maybe
she’s got a brother you could ride.” Sandra winked at
me.

“
Just stop, please stop. I
already walked in on the twins using their healing hands. No matter
how much bleach I drink, I’ll never be able to completely cleanse
my mind or forget the horror of that sight.”

“
Wait, did you say twins?”
Sandra paused, glancing over my shoulder as her mind worked. She
refocused her gaze on me. “Were they using healing hands on each
other? Together?”

“
Sandra! That’s
disgusting!” Elizabeth smacked her on the shoulder.

“
What? Men get to
fantasize about ménage à trois with twin sisters, but I’m a sicko
because my spank naughty list includes twin
leprechauns?”

I gagged instinctively,
covering my mouth with my hand, but I also laughed. Through my
fingers I mumbled, “It’s like there’s a party going on in my mouth,
and everyone is throwing up.”

“
That’s
right, Ashley. My mind just went there.” Sandra said this loudly,
her head doing a weird little jazzy pivot. “My mind went to
the
double the ginger, double the
fun
.”

“
Inappropriate Shrink
Sandra is inappropriate!” Elizabeth wagged her finger at Sandra,
but she was giggling.

“
Seriously, stop.” I shook
my head, holding my stomach—laughing and grossed out and close to
tears of hilarity. “Please!”

Sandra crossed to stand
behind Elizabeth and did a little hip pump dance; she wagged her
eyebrows at me. “You know I like my sushi like I like my men….” She
paused for dramatic effect then added, “…With two slices of
ginger
.
”

“
You are such a freak.” I
lost it in a fit of giggles.

Elizabeth was laughing so
hard she had to hold the kitchen counter for balance. Between loud
bursts of chortling, she managed to say, “I like…my men…like I
like…my meat….” She struggled for breath as she wiped tears from
the corners of her eyes.

Sandra, now laughing so
hard that she was completely silent, gasped out, “How’s
that?”

“
Hot with a red…with a
red…with a….”

“
Don’t say it!” Sandra
waved her hands in the air and burst out laughing even harder this
time.

Elizabeth couldn’t finish
for several seconds because she literally could not speak, her eyes
shut tight as she laughed with abandon.

Then she blurted, “Hot with a juicy red
center!”

“
AGH!” I shook my head and
covered my ears.

As luck would have it,
Duane and Beau chose that moment to walk into the
kitchen.

“
AGH!” I yelled again,
horrified but unable to control the laughter that convulsed my
body.

My twin brothers looked at each other then
at the three of us like we were aliens.

I don’t think I could have
stopped laughing if my life depended on it, especially when Duane
asked, his features completely befuddled, “So, uh…what’s for
dinner?”

Then, because Sandra was
Sandra, she shouted, “Steak and sushi!”

Sandra let out a loud guffaw and smacked her
thigh.

Elizabeth held her stomach and shook her
head, gasping for air.

My jaw hurt and my sides
ached, and I had to bury my head in my arms, because every time I
looked at either of them I ended up laughing all over
again.

Despite the ridiculousness
of the moment, I wondered in some dark place in the back of my mind
how I would survive when my friends left me tomorrow. Who would I
lean on? How would I cope with watching my mother slip away daily
until nothing was left of her?

There was nothing funny
about what was coming next, but without the laughter, I was afraid
I would go insane.

“
May you live every day of
your life.”

―
Jonathan
Swift

Momma was the
hospice patient who cried wisdom-wolf.

“
Ashley, where are you,
honey? I’ve got something really important to tell you.”

I was sitting in the
recliner by her bed, knee deep in my third reading of
Catch 22
. I’d just given
her a bath a half hour ago and helped her dress. She was weak and
sleepy from the effort. The strain in her tone surprised me because
I thought she was asleep.

I immediately set the book
aside and reached for her hand. “I’m right here. What is it,
Momma?”

“
Come closer.” She
squeezed my fingers, so I stood from the chair and leaned over the
bed so she could see me better.

“
Ashley, you need to know,
of all the things you wear, your expression is the most important.”
Momma said this with fevered earnestness. I gave her a gentle smile
and she continued, her eyes losing focus. “And deodorant…always
wear deodorant…and clean underwear.”

This had become a usual
occurrence. Over the last week and a half since she’d come home, my
mother would get this look of urgency in her eyes and tell me to
come close, insisting that she had some grave, important bit of
wisdom to pass on. And when I leaned in close, it was always
something peculiar, random, or mundane.