Love Gently Falling (11 page)

“When do you go back to California?” Zinnia asked with wide eyes. “Frankly, I'm a little surprised you're still here, Rita. Hasn't it been a week or more already?”

“Yes. I'd planned to stay two weeks,” Rita coolly explained. “But I decided to extend it to three weeks.”

“
Three weeks?
I sure wouldn't want one of my girls to be gone from my salon that long. Hairdressers are so replaceable these days. You must have a very understanding boss.”

“You're right. I do.” Rita made a stiff smile.

“How's your mother doing?” Johnny asked.

Rita sighed. “She's a little down. They say depression is to be expected with a stroke. But she's always been such a positive, upbeat person—you know, the glass is half full. It's hard seeing her so discouraged.”

“Does she still like having visitors now that she's home?” Johnny asked.

“I think she would. But I don't think she's seen anyone but family or her therapists since leaving the hospital.”

“I'd like to come see her…if you think that's okay.”

“Absolutely.” Rita nodded. “I'm sure she'd love you to stop by.” For that matter, Rita would too—of course, she didn't say this.

“Oh, we should both go see her,” Zinnia said eagerly to Johnny. “After all, Donna and I have so much in c
ommon
—​both businesswomen with our own salons. I could chat with Donna about business. Let's do this, Johnny. My schedule's wide open until three thirty.”

“Sorry,” he told her. “I've got some more appointments and a staff meeting this afternoon.”

“Okay, then we'll do it this evening after work,” Zinnia said.

“Well, I don't know—”

“Come on, Johnny, let's pay our good friend Donna a visit. We'll take something fun to cheer her up.” She looked down at Rita. “Does she like flowers? Candy? Ice cream perhaps?”

“I—uh—I don't know.” Rita stared curiously at Johnny. He really didn't seem too thrilled with Zinnia's plan. Would he stand his ground and put the kibosh on this?

“We'll think of something,” Zinnia said to Johnny. “Won't we?”

Poor Johnny looked like a deer caught in the headlights. “Is this evening a good time to visit?” he asked Rita in a formal-sounding voice.

“Sure. I can let her know you're coming by.”

“Okay then.” He nodded, his eyes still locked with Rita's. “Is around seven thirty okay with you?”

“That's fine.” Rita would be sure to get home by then.

“Come on, now.” Zinnia possessively grabbed his arm. “We've still got lots to discuss, Johnny Boy.” And before anyone could utter another word, Zinnia dragged him away.

“See what I mean?” Marley said after they were gone.

“What?” Rita asked in a somewhat sharp tone.

“Like my grandmother would say, Zinnia has set her cap for him. She's got Johnny Boy on the line, and she is steadily reeling him in.”

“Really? What if he doesn't want to be reeled in?”

Marley chuckled and immediately returned to questioning Rita about her sudden interest in Johnny Hollister. “Not that I blame you. Johnny would be a great catch. If my divorce was final, I'd probably go after him myself.”

“You would?”

“Sure. Why not? He's a great guy, and I'm sure he'd make a great husband. Not that I have any desire to be married again. Not anytime soon, anyway. But if I was in the market for a good man, Johnny Hollister would definitely rank high on my list.”

“Well, if what Zinnia said is true—if Johnny is getting her something for Valentine's Day—you won't have to worry about having him on your list.”

Marley laughed. “If I didn't know better—and maybe I do—I'd say that you're feeling jealous of Zinnia right now.”

“The only thing I envy about Zinnia right now is her clientele list.” Rita laid a tip on the table. “I wish I could steal about half of them from her—for my mom.”

But as Rita walked back to Hair and Now, she knew that wasn't entirely true. Even if she refused to admit it to anyone—including herself—she was lime green with jealousy.

Rita called from the salon,
warning her family that Johnny and Zinnia were coming to visit this evening.

“Johnny is fine,” Ricky said. “But
why
is Zinnia coming?”

“Because she was with Johnny.”

“But Zinnia?” He let out a groan. “She's the competition, Rita, the reason Hair and Now hit the skids. Maybe even why Mom had a stroke.”

“Oh, that's ridiculous.”

“Don't be too sure. Mom was pretty stressed out over the business.”

“She can't hear you, can she?”

“No. I'm in the kitchen, cleaning up.”

“Look, I'm sorry about Zinnia. Let's just go with it, okay? Maybe it will distract Mom from feeling blue.” Then, to cheer her brother up, she filled him in on the latest developments at the salon, making it sound like it was coming along even faster than it really was.

Rita left the salon at seven o'clock sharp, getting home with about ten minutes to spare. She rushed up to her room, the same room she'd inhabited throughout her childhood and was trying not to detest too much now, and hurriedly changed into a pale blue sweater. She freshened her hair and makeup just before the doorbell rang. She hurried back down and was relieved to see that Donna, dressed in lavender velour warm-ups, was seated on the sofa with an expectant half smile. It sounded like her dad was in the family room, watching a basketball game, and Ricky was already answering the door, greeting Johnny warmly and Zinnia stiffly, and taking their coats.

“Mom's in here,” Ricky said in a falsely cheerful tone.

“Hi,” Rita said nervously as Johnny and Zinnia came into the living room. “Come on in.” Everything about this was so awkward, so strange…and yet she was glad to see Johnny.

“Hello, Donna,” Zinnia said loudly, as if she thought Donna was deaf. “So good to see you. You're looking just fine tonight.”

“Hey, Donna.” Johnny reached down to grasp Donna's good hand. “You look pretty as always. How are you feeling?”

“Gooo-ood.” Donna nodded.

“Brought you some chocolates.” Johnny set a red heart-shaped box on the table. “A little early for Valentine's Day, but I couldn't resist.”

“Than…you…” Donna smiled.

“Please, sit down,” Rita said to both of them.

“I'll go tell Dad we've got company,” Ricky said, backing away. Rita could tell by the spark in his eye that he would not be coming back anytime soon. For that matter, her dad was probably lying low, too.

Johnny sat down next to Donna, looking her directly in her eyes. “Have you been keeping up with your rehab?”

“Yeah.”

“And your exercises at home?”

Donna lifted her bad arm with her good one, demonstrating what she'd been working on, trying to move her fingers.

“That's great. You really are making progress.”

Zinnia, sitting on the other side of Donna, patted her knee. “I'll bet you can't wait to get back to your salon. I was just telling Rita that I can relate to you. We're both businesswomen, with employees who depend on us.” She continued to chatter away as if she and Donna were best friends. To Rita's surprise, her mom seemed to be responding positively. Whether she was simply being polite, or actually enjoying Zinnia's company, it didn't seem to matter. Clearly, Donna was enjoying her visitors.

“Is that the game I hear in there?” Johnny tipped his head toward the family room.

“Yeah.” Donna gave him a half smile. “Go…see…”

Johnny patted her shoulder. “A woman after my own heart.” He stood, excusing himself. “I'll go pay my respects to Richard and Ricky.”

Zinnia looked slightly taken aback by this, and Rita was unsure of what to do. She picked up the chocolates. “Want one, Mom?”

“Yeah…”

“I'll go open them in the kitchen.” Rita hurried away, leaving the two businesswomen alone to chat. Okay, she felt a bit guilty, but then wasn't this why Zinnia had insisted on coming, so that she could catch up with Donna?

Rita returned with the opened box, holding it out so Zinnia and Donna could make their selections. “I suppose I should share this with the boys. Right, Mom?”

“Righ…yeah…” Donna waved her good arm. “Go ahea…”

Feeling as if she'd been freed, Rita carried the chocolates into the family room, where the guys were sitting in front of the TV but talking about old cars. Her dad was telling Johnny about the '54 Chevy that he'd been restoring for the past several years.

“I plan to have 'er ready to roll by summer,” Richard told him. “There's a big show in Green Bay that I want to take Donna to…I mean, if she's all better by then.”

“Mom said to share,” Rita said as she passed the big heart around. Then, sitting next to her brother, she pretended to be absorbed with the car conversation and basketball game, but was occasionally sneaking a sideways glance at Johnny.

“Hey, what're you doing in the boys' room?” Ricky poked her in the ribs. “The girls are next door, sis.”

“Oh, Zinnia and Mom were having such a good time chatting about their salons. I didn't figure they really needed me.”

Ricky rolled his eyes like he wasn't buying that.

“Besides, you know that I like basketball. I played clear through high school, and I'll bet I can still take you.” She poked him back.

“Says you.”

“There's a hoop in the driveway,” Richard reminded them.

“Too bad you're too old to play,” Rita teased her dad.

“Says who?”

Suddenly the four of them were out of their chairs and rushing toward the back door like schoolkids. While Ricky dug out the basketball in the garage, giving it a quick pump of air, Richard showed Johnny his car.

“She's a beauty.” Johnny ran his hand over the shiny sky blue paint job, pausing to look at her dad's “before” photos of the car. “You've done a beautiful job.”

“Thanks.” Richard set the photo album away with a proud smile. “It's been good therapy for me. Hopefully I'll have time to get back to it…once Donna gets to feeling better. Maybe this spring.”

“You're on my team,” Ricky said to Johnny as they exited the garage, out into the cold night air.

“That means you're stuck with me, Dad.” Rita took the ball from her brother and dribbled toward the hoop—and suddenly it was game on. But, because of Ricky's bad back, combined with her dad's age, the stiffest competition was between Rita and Johnny. That was fun and loud and lively—and the fouls flowed freely.

Rita was about to shoot what could be the game-winning basket, with Johnny tightly guarding her—so close she could smell his aftershave, a nice woodsy smell—when Zinnia came out, announcing it was time to go. But when Johnny glanced in Zinnia's direction, Rita took her shot, neatly sinking it.

“Nothing but net,” Richard said as he gave her a high five. “We win, Princess!”

Johnny pretended to be crushed as he patted Ricky on the back. “Guess we went too easy on the old man and the girl,” he joked. “Next time we show them no mercy.”

“Nice game,” Rita said as she shook Johnny's hand, holding it a fraction longer than necessary as she looked into his eyes. “You're not bad.”

“You're not bad yourself.” He squeezed her hand with a wink.

As her hand slid out of his, she felt her cheeks growing warm. And it wasn't just from the workout, either.

On Thursday morning, Rita went to the nearby big-box building supply store and, based on Marley's color recommendations, picked out her paint colors. She also found black and white ceramic tiles for the mirrors. But so far she wasn't having any luck with drawer pulls for the station cabinets. She picked up a few other things, and it was past noon by the time she started to make the secondhand store circuit. Her goal was to find some interesting retro items to use as accents. Armed with her paint samples and fabric, she perused the shops and selected some unique pieces. It was time-​c
onsuming
, but fun. Sort of like a treasure hunt.

By the time she got back to the salon, only Charlene was left, and she seemed to be in a foul mood. When Rita questioned her, Charlene just shook her head. “I'm sorry, but I just think it's useless.”

“What's useless?”

“All the trouble you're going to—planning to fix this place up.”

“Why is it useless?” Rita set a bucket of paint down by the door.

“It's not going to work.”

“Why not?”

“Even if you get it all finished before you leave—which, I'm sorry, but I have my doubts about—it isn't going to feel the same here without Donna.” Charlene started to cry. “Donna was the heart of this place, Rita. She's the one who kept us all moving the right direction. I've tried to maintain for her, but I'm not cut out for it. I'm not the leader type.” She paused to blow her nose.

“But Mom will come back…eventually.” Even as Rita said this, she wasn't sure.

“
When?
” Charlene held up her hands. “I popped over to see her during my lunch break. I tried to talk to her and it was so hard. I know she was doing her best, but I couldn't make out more than a word or two. I don't like sounding so negative, but Donna still has a long, long way to go—I mean, before she's ready to come back to work. Even then, she won't be able to cut hair—not with just one hand. And if she can't talk, she won't be much use with customers.”

“Stroke patients have been known to recover within six months. Maybe not completely, but she should have her speech back by—”

“Six months?” Charlene blew her nose again. “I didn't want to tell you, Rita, but I'd been thinking about retirement. Donald plans to retire in June, and he'd like to travel some. I want to be free to join him.”

“I understand.” Rita nodded. “You need to do what you need to do, Charlene. I don't expect you to put your life on hold for the salon.”

“But I know you're putting your own savings into this renovation, Rita.” Charlene put a hand on her shoulder. “I'm afraid you're wasting your money.”

“Well, I think it's a good investment.”

“It's a very risky investment.” Charlene frowned. “I hope it's an investment you can afford to lose, honey.”

“I'm doing it for Mom,” Rita said stubbornly.

Charlene reached out to hug her. “You're a good girl, Rita, and I know you want to help your mother. I just hope you won't be sorry…that it won't all be for nothing.”

Rita hugged her back. “I think we're all under a lot of stress right now. And it's probably going to be even more stressful for the next week or so. In fact, I think you should call it a day now. Go home early. If there are any more appointments, I'll take them.”

“There aren't any.” Charlene sniffed. “Which is exactly my point. What good is it to fix this place up if we don't have the business to support it in the long run?”

“Don't you worry about that.” Rita opened the closet, handing Charlene her coat. “We're going to do everything we can to make this thing work, and if it doesn't—well, they can't say we didn't go down fighting.”

But as Rita drove home later that night, Charlene's dismal forebodings were still ringing in her ears. Charlene was right, it
was
a risky investment, and despite her bravado, Rita was getting worried about how much money she was spending. Yet she knew she was being frugal, and that a renovation like she was attempting really should've cost much, much more. She was still mulling these things over when she went into the house.

“How's Mom?” she asked Ricky when she found him in the kitchen.

“She went to bed already,” he said glumly. “And Dad's asleep in his chair.”

“Oh…?” Rita glanced at the clock. “Kinda early to go to bed.”

“Yeah, Mom said she was tired from doing rehab today. But I think she's really just depressed.” He scowled. “I know how she feels.”

“Oh, Ricky.” Rita put a hand on his shoulder. “You're being such a trooper with Mom, but I'm sure it's not easy.”

“It's pretty discouraging.” He closed the dishwasher so firmly that the dishes inside rattled. “I just keep wondering why our family's been hit so hard these last couple of years. I mean, first Dad's job gets the ax. Then it's me—getting hurt and losing my football scholarship. Now Mom and this stupid stroke.” He frowned at her. “You better watch your back, sis. You might be next.”

Rita felt a shiver go down her spine. “Oh, I'm not worried,” she assured him, even though she wondered. “And don't forget how our family has had it so good for so many years. I mean, our parents have had a good, happy marriage. We've all had good health…well, until recently. And I know we've never been wealthy, but we've never really gone without, either. Maybe there's good that's going to come out of all this.”