Isle of Palms (38 page)

“Yeah, sure!” Mary said. “In this weather?”

“Well, we’ve got that spray, you know,” I said, not really paying attention. “Is that shampoo?”

“Heads up, just for a minute. That’s salon talk, you know.” Jim gave one of his irresistible grins that made Mary swoon a little. “First, you wash with this.” He held out the open bottle for me to smell.

“Fruit cocktail!” I said. “God! You could drink it!”

“Lemme smell!” Mary said. “Wow! I love that!”

“Then, you apply this serum and this conditioner that you rinse after five minutes,” he said. “Last, you spray one shot of this stuff on the roots and comb it through. They swear it gives you flat straight hair that shines like glass.”

“Where’d you get this stuff?” I said.

“Why should I tell you?” he said with a wink. “Actually, if Mary will be the guinea pig, and
if
this stuff works, I was thinking you might want this to be your salon private label shampoo and treatment line. They do it for curls too!”

“Straighten me out,” Mary said. “I’m game.”

And so Mary got straight hair and Miss Mavis got pin curls and then I asked Jim to show Emily how to use a broom, which she began to use.

“You want spending money for the summer, don’t you?” I said.

“Yes,” she said, shocked that someone of her intelligence had to push a broom to pay for her henna tattoos and eyebrow studs. “I guess so.”

“Well, it’s the best I can offer you. You can take lunch orders for clients, straighten out perm rods, Windex the glass shelves, keep the magazines straight.”

“Anything else?”

“If I think of it, I’ll let you know.”

She didn’t really mind being in the salon. She was more or less pretending to be put upon. In addition, considering her loss of funding from Trixie, she wasn’t about to argue. Lastly there was Lucy, the direct link to David and therefore a social life. David had a job at Barnes & Noble in Towne Centre for the summer. I imagined they would wind up seeing each other after work. My secret was that I hoped David being around would cause her to change her hair color back to blond. It wasn’t that I had anything against her experimenting with hair color. How could I? It was that she looked more like me when her hair was its natural color and I wanted that association to be more obvious.

The phone rang all day and at about three o’clock, a delivery man from Abide-A-While showed up with a palm tree with a stuffed toy monkey hanging from one of its limbs.

The card read:

 
Let’s monkey around!
Congratulations and good luck!
Love, Arthur

 
Well! I said to myself, this is a good omen. A promising one.

I called him to thank him.

“You didn’t have to do that, but I loved it. Thanks.”

“Well, I just thought you needed to know what was on my mind.”

It had been so long since I’d been pursued by an eligible man, that I couldn’t find words to respond. I could feel myself blushing.

Finally I said, “Yeah. So? Um, well?” There I was, the adult with the cool head, reduced to a pigtailed schoolgirl with Band-Aids on her skinned knees, stuttering.

“Well put. So how’s your first day going?”

I knew he was snickering at me, which only made me feel all the more lamebrained.

“Really good. Yeah, really good. Lucy brought in doughnuts.”

“Krispy Kreme.”

“Well, that’s pretty special.”

Dead silence.

“You there?” I said.

“Anna?”

“Yeah?”

“I can’t get you out of my mind.”

“Shit. Me either.”

Bettina perked up from her table. “That’s one dollar,” she said. I could see her shoulders shake with laughter.

“I want to see you later, okay?”

“Okay,” I said, “me too. Around nine?”

“Sure. I’ll pick you up.”

I hung up the phone and looked around. Bettina, her client, Lucy, Brigitte, Jim, and Emily were all staring at me.

“Holy hell,” Emily said, “Mom’s in love.”

“One dollar!” Bettina said.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said. “I have a date. Period.”

“Sit,” Brigitte said. “I’ll blow out your hair.”

“I’ll do you a manicure,” Bettina said.

“Anna,” Jim said, “I’ll be back in an hour.”

“Where are you going?” I said.
Was he jealous?

“Berlin’s, honey,” he said, “
you
need a
dress!
”

Before I could stop him, he was out the door. He wasn’t jealous. He was a generous saint.

“I wish I had an ex-husband like him,” Brigitte said.

“Don’t we all?” Bettina said.

I had two more clients that afternoon, and three walk-ins showed up from the real estate office in our shopping center. Bettina left at five and Brigitte was all done at six.

“Not bad for a first day,” Brigitte said as she straightened up her station. “I’m too tired to eat and that usually means I worked! Anna. I think this is going to be a very busy place!”

“Thanks. I kept having nightmares that I opened for business and nobody came—you know, like that lonely Maytag repair guy?”

“Hardly. I think we had better find two more stylists and quick! When June rolls around and all the touristas show up, this place is gonna be a crazy house.”

“I hope you’re right! Tourists! Ugh!”

“The girls from the real estate office threatened to tell all their renters about us.”

“Well, we gotta take the good with the bad, I guess. See you tomorrow.”

Overall it
had
been a promising day. I began the business of closing details—wiping out the sinks, wiping down the counters. Emily was helping me.

“Daddy never came back,” she said.

“Call his cell,” I said. “Tell him if he doesn’t get here, I’ll just meet him at home.”

“Okay,” she said and went up front to call.

Lucy came toward the back sinks where I was trying not to chip my French manicure that I adored.

“Here’s your appointment list for tomorrow,” she said. “I gave this one an extra half hour because she wants a perm or highlights or something that sounded like it needed more time.”

“Good plan,” I said, “thanks.” Then I looked at the list. My day started at eight and I was booked solid until seven. “You trying to kill me?”

“No, just protecting my investment!” she said. “Don’t y’all think it’s time for cocktails? Oh, Emily? David called and he wants to know if you want to go to the movies tonight. I told him yes, you would. Is that okay with you?”

Now all eyes turned to Emily, whose face was stricken with panic.

“Sure,” she said, “why not?” She went to the powder room, closed the door, turned on the fan, and screamed.

Lucy and I burst out laughing. The door opened and she came out.

“I’m fine now,” she said with a decided smirk of delight over her date with David.

“Good,” I said, “let’s get out of here. We’ve got hearts to break.”

Long Walk off a Short Pier

JIM showed up at the house around seven, loaded with enough shopping bags to kill a camel. I was just getting ready to serve another gourmet dinner (“gourmet” meant to be humorous) of this crazy pasta that Emily loved when she was a little girl. First, you fry four pieces of bacon until it’s really crispy and then drain it. In some of the same grease—not too much or your heart will explode—you cook a chopped onion and dissolve a chicken cube. Then, you throw in a can of tomatoes and crumble the bacon back in it. Cook and drain the pasta, throw it in the sauce, stir around some Parmesan cheese, and, baby child, it’s Yum Yum Time.

Add frozen garlic bread, salad in a bag, and I’m feeling like the fastest cook in the East, or something. Oh, yes, I was swimming in the excellence of the day. New business, possibly a new boyfriend, and here was Jim to change my image with something wonderful to wear.

“Okay, girls! Gather ’round! Gather ’round! Daddy’s home with lots of goodies for his women!” He threw the bags on the floor and himself on the couch. “I’m dead. All my bones ache! My feet are arthritic! I’m an
old, old
man. Wow!”

He played dead, bringing on a fit of giggles from Emily. Moody as she could be, Jim knew the exact location of her funny bone.

I poured him a glass of wine and brought it to him. “Here, precious!”

“Did you buy me something too?” Emily said.

“You know I did!”

Emily pulled off his shoes and rubbed his foot and I took his other foot and tickled the sole.

“Stop! That drives me nuts!” He laughed and tried to twist away from us. “Why do you vixens torture me like this?”

“Oh? You’re ticklish?” I said. “I’m sorry, honey! I didn’t know that!” Then I rubbed his foot. “You hungry?”

“I could eat a horse,” he said and sat up. “Actually, I ate horse once. It was quite good. It’s a delicacy in some places, you know.”

Emily looked at him hard, searching for the liar within. Realizing he was speaking the truth she said, “Euuu. Euuu. Euuu. Gross.”

“For this I spend a fortune in tuition?
Euuu?
Let’s eat.”

“Eat first, review the booty later?” Jim said.

“Yeah, it’s getting cold.”

We served our plates in the kitchen and remarked on what a good thing it was that we were all on the skinny side.

“If you ever expand this house, Mom, the kitchen is so definitely on the top of the list.”

“Gotta cut two thousand heads first!” I said, and went to the table with my plate and the salad bowl. “Somebody get the bread from the oven, okay?”

At the table, everyone ate and I thought again about how happy I was. Looking around, just seeing them was so very nice. Man. Some days were poetry.

“Today was fun, wasn’t it, Mom? God, this is so good.”

“Today was wonderful,” I said, and paused for a moment. “I just don’t want this dinner to go by without me telling both of you how much I love you.” I don’t know what got into me, but I burst out into tears. “I’m sorry,” I said, “it’s just that I’m so
happy!”

Emily got up to get a tissue for me and Jim said, “Women.”

Emily handed me the tissue, I blew my nose like a thunderous storm, and we all laughed. Emily rubbed my back around and around, exactly like I used to rub hers and I wanted to cry again.

“What a day,” I said.

I looked up from the dinner table and saw David the Young Turk standing at the door. He was obviously confused by my tears as I was sure he had heard me boohoo and blow my nose.

“Come on in,” I said, still sniffling. “Did you have supper?”

“Hey! Is this an okay time?” Then he said, “Um, I didn’t exactly eat. Aunt Lucy was getting dressed for a date and I sort of . . . gee, that smells good.”

“I’ll fix you a plate,” Emily said, “come sit down.”

“Uh, thanks.”

I assumed Lucy had a date with Daddy but something inside also told me she had a date with somebody else. Before I had the chance to think about it too much, the awesome clothes, shoes, and accessories were displayed, an outfit was chosen for me for that night, Emily was out the door on David’s arm, the dishes were done, Jim was in bed snoring like a wild animal, and Arthur was at the door. If nothing else, I smelled good. Jim had sprayed me from head to toe in Chanel’s Allure. Well, chemical allure was better than none at all.

“Hey,” I said, “glad you’re here! What a crazy day.”

But he didn’t come in the door. He just stood there on the other side of the screen and looked at me like something in shrink-wrap in the butcher’s display at the Piggly Wiggly. At least that was what I hoped his look meant.

“You look beautiful,” he said.

How could he say that? I thought I looked like a hooker in the tight dress Jim and Emily insisted made me look fierce. But when I looked back at him, I forgot my insecurity and saw someone I wanted more than I had wanted anyone in a long time. Maybe ever. It was appalling to be so undone. Time was suspended in anticipation, while Perrier bubbles raced through my veins.

“Thanks,” I said, opening the door for him, “you smell like something, um, something really wonderful.”

“You’re not very slick at this dating opening line thing, are you? Come here.”

“Uh, I guess I’m a little out of practice.”

There in my doorway, in my new house, on the day of opening my new business, my new boyfriend kissed me with his perfect lips. I tried to remember the last person I had kissed whose lips matched mine so perfectly and I couldn’t recall a soul. I decided to capitalize on this opportunity and let him kiss me all he wanted. You’ll be glad to know I moved him inside the door to the living room. I wasn’t just gonna hang my sex life out the door for all the world to pass comment. I do have some sense of propriety, you know.

I pushed him down on the couch and my new navy cotton and spandex dress that fit like a sock began to hike itself up my legs. What was the difference? He was leaning back into the cushions and pulling me over to crawl on him. He couldn’t see my behind anyway. He was busy feeling whatever he could feel and so was I. It was getting very warm. We were kissing like, God knows, a couple of nymphos desperately in need of some moderation therapy and one of my new red sling-backs went flying across the room, landing with a thud. I didn’t even look up. Then the other shoe took flight. His shirttail came out and I wondered for a split second if we would even make it to the bedroom. There was a lot of heavy breathing, one long look of consensus, and the kissing started again, this time in a way that was slightly less anima and more evenly paced. But, oh God, I was heading to hell on the super slide of sin and loving the ride. We were not going to make it off that couch until I said so. His hand was square on my backside and my hand was working its way from his belt buckle to his zipper. To hell with shy, I thought. I heard someone scream.