Sookie 03 Club Dead (9 page)

“Listen, would it be okay if I ran out to visit some clients?” he asked.

“Oh, that would be fine.” I thought it would be all to the good if he wasn’t in my immediate vicinity. “You go do whatever you need to do. I have books to read, and there’s the television.” Maybe I could begin the mystery novel.

“If you want to … I don’t know … my sister, Janice, owns a beauty shop about four blocks away, in one of the older neighborhoods. She married a local guy. You want to, you could walk over and get the works.”

“Oh, I … well, that …” I didn’t have the sophistication to think of a smooth and plausible refusal, when the glaring roadblock to such a treat was my lack of money.

Suddenly, comprehension crossed his face. “If you stopped by, it would give Janice the opportunity to look you over. After all, you’re supposed to be my girlfriend, and she hated Debbie. She’d really enjoy a visit.”

“You’re being awful nice,” I said, trying not to sound as confused and touched as I felt. “That’s not what I expected.”

“You’re not what I expected, either,” he said, and left his sister’s shop number by the phone before heading out on his business.

Janice Herveaux Phillips (married two years, mother of one, I learned quickly) was exactly what I might have expected of a sister of Alcide’s. She was tall, attractive, plainspoken, and confident; and she ran her business efficiently.

I seldom went into beauty parlors. My gran had always done her own home perms, and I had never colored my hair or done anything else to it, besides a trim now and then. When I confessed this to Janice, who’d noticed I was looking around me with the curiosity of the ignorant, her broad face split in a grin. “Then you’ll need everything,” she said with satisfaction.

“No, no, no,” I protested anxiously. “Alcide-.”

“Called me on his cell phone and made it clear I was to give you the works,” Janice said. “And frankly, honey, anyone who helps him recover from that Debbie is my best friend.”

I had to smile. “But I’ll pay,” I told her.

“No, your money’s no good here,” she said. “Even if you break up with Alcide tomorrow, just getting him through tonight will be worth it.”

“Tonight?” I began to have a sinking feeling that once again, I didn’t know everything there was to know.

“I happen to know that tonight that bitch is going to announce her engagement at that club they go to,” Janice said.

Okay, this time what I didn’t know was something pretty major. “She’s marrying the-man she took up with after she dumped Alcide?” (I barely stopped myself from saying, “The shapeshifter?”)

“Quick work, huh? What could he have that my brother doesn’t have?”

“I can’t imagine,” I said with absolutely sincerity, earning a quick smile from Janice. There was sure to be a flaw in her brother somewhere-maybe Alcide came to the supper table in his underwear, or picked his nose in public.

“Well, if you find out, you let me know. Now, let’s get you going.” Janice glanced around her in a businesslike way. “Corinne is going to give you your pedicure and manicure, and Jarvis is going to do your hair. You sure have a great head of it,” Janice said in a more personal way.

“All mine, all natural,” I admitted.

“No color?”

“Nope.”

“You’re the lucky one,” Janice said, shaking her head.

That was a minority opinion.

Janice herself was working on a client whose silver hair and gold jewelry proclaimed she was a woman of privilege, and while this cold-faced lady examined me with indifferent eyes, Janice fired off some instructions to her employees and went back to Ms. Big Bucks.

I had never been so pampered in my life. And everything was new to me. Corinne (manicures and pedicures), who was as plump and juicy as one of the sausages I’d cooked that morning, painted my toenails and fingernails screaming red to match the dress I was going to wear. The only male in the shop, Jarvis, had fingers as light and quick as butterflies. He was thin as a reed and artificially platinum blond. Entertaining me with a stream of chatter, he washed and set my hair and established me under the dryer. I was one chair down from the rich lady, but I got just as much attention. I had a People magazine to read, and Corinne brought me a Coke. It was so nice to have people urging me to relax.

I was feeling kind of roasted under the dryer when the timer dinged. Jarvis got me out from under it and set me back in his chair. After consulting with Janice, he whipped his preheated curling iron from a sort of holster mounted on the wall, and painstakingly arranged my hair in loose curls trailing down my back. I looked spectacular. Looking spectacular makes you happy. This was the best I’d felt since Bill had left.

Janice came over to talk every moment she was able. I caught myself forgetting that I wasn’t Alcide’s real girlfriend, with a real chance of becoming Janice’s sister-in-law. This kind of acceptance didn’t come my way too often.

I was wishing I could repay her kindness in some way, when a chance presented itself. Jarvis’s station mirrored Janice’s, so my back was to Janice’s customer’s back. Left on my own while Jarvis went to get a bottle of the conditioner he thought I should try, I watched (in the mirror) Janice take off her earrings and put them in a little china dish. I might never have observed what happened next if I hadn’t picked up a clear covetous thought from the rich lady’s head, which was, simply, “Aha!” Janice walked away to get another towel, and in the clear reflection, I watched the silver-haired customer deftly sweep up the earrings and stuff them into her jacket pocket, while Janice’s back was turned.

By the time I was finished, I’d figured out what to do. I was just waiting to say good-bye to Jarvis, who’d had to go to the telephone; I knew he was talking to his mother, from the pictures I got from his head. So I slid out of my vinyl chair and walked over to the rich woman, who was writing a check for Janice.

“‘Scuse me,” I said, smiling brilliantly. Janice looked a little startled, and the elegant woman looked snooty. This was a client who spent a lot of money here, and Janice wouldn’t want to lose her. “You got a smear of hair gel on your jacket. If you’ll please just slide out of it for a second, I’ll get it right off.”

She could hardly refuse. I grasped the jacket shoulders and gently tugged, and she automatically helped me slide the green-and-red plaid jacket down her arms. I carried it behind the screen that concealed the hair-washing area, and wiped at a perfectly clean area just for verisimilitude (a great word from my Word of the Day calendar). Of course, I also extracted the earrings and put them in my own pocket.

“There you are, good as new!” I beamed at her and helped her into the jacket.

“Thanks, Sookie,” Janice said, too brightly. She suspected something was amiss.

“You’re welcome!” I smiled steadily.

“Yes, of course,” said the elegant woman, somewhat confusedly. “Well, I’ll see you next week, Janice.”

She clicked on her high heels all the way out the door, not looking back. When she was out of sight, I reached in my pocket and held out my hand to Janice. She opened her hand under mine, and I dropped the earrings into her palm.

“Good God almighty,” Janice said, suddenly looking about five years older. “I forgot and left something where she could reach it.”

“She does this all the time?”

“Yeah. That’s why we’re about the fifth beauty salon she’s patronized in the past ten years. The others put up with it for a while, but eventually she did that one thing too many. She’s so rich, and so educated, and she was brought up right. I don’t know why she does stuff like this.”

We shrugged at each other, the vagaries of the white-collar well-to-do beyond our comprehension. It was a moment of perfect understanding. “I hope you don’t lose her as a customer. I tried to be tactful,” I said.

“And I really appreciate that. But I would have hated losing those earrings more than losing her as a client. My husband gave them to me. They tend to pinch after a while, and I didn’t even think when I pulled them off.”

I’d been thanked more than enough. I pulled on my own coat. “I better be off,” I said. “I’ve really enjoyed the wonderful treat.”

“Thank my brother,” Janice said, her broad smile restored. “And, after all, you just paid for it.” She held up the earrings.

I was smiling, too, as I left the warmth and camaraderie of the salon, but that didn’t last too long. The thermometer had dropped and the sky was getting darker by the minute. I walked the distance back to the apartment building very briskly. After a chilly ride on a creaky elevator, I was glad to use the key Alcide had given me and step into the warmth. I switched on a lamp and turned on the television for a little company, and I huddled on the couch and thought about the pleasures of the afternoon. Once I’d thawed out, I realized Alcide must have turned down the thermostat. Though pleasant compared to the out-of-doors, the apartment was definitely on the cool side.

The sound of the key in the door roused me out of my reverie, and Alcide came in with a clipboard full of paperwork. He looked tired and preoccupied, but his face relaxed when he saw me waiting.

“Janice called me to tell me you’d come by,” he said. His voice warmed up as he spoke. “She wanted me to say thank you again.”

I shrugged. “I appreciate my hair and my new nails,” I said. “I’ve never done that before.”

“You’ve never been to a beauty shop before?”

“My grandmother went every now and then. I had my ends trimmed, once.”

He looked as stunned as if I’d confessed I’d never seen a flush toilet.

To cover my embarrassment, I fanned my nails out for his admiration. I hadn’t wanted very long ones, and these were the shortest ones Corinne could in all conscience manage, she had told me. “My toenails match,” I told my host.

“Let’s see,” he said.

I untied my sneakers and pulled off my socks. I held out my feet. “Aren’t they pretty?” I asked.

He was looking at me kind of funny. “They look great,” he said quietly.

I glanced at the clock on top of the television. “I guess I better go get ready,” I said, trying to figure out how to take a bath without affecting my hair and nails. I thought of Janice’s news about Debbie. “You’re really ready to dress up tonight, right?”

“Sure,” he said gamely.

“‘Cause I’m going all out.”

That interested him. “That would mean … ?”

“Wait and see.” This was a nice guy, with a nice family, doing me a heavy-duty favor. Okay, he’d been coerced into it. But he was being extremely gracious to me, under any circumstances.

***

I rolled out of my room an hour later. Alcide was standing in the kitchen, pouring himself a Coke. It ran over the edge of the glass while he took me in.

That was a real compliment.

While Alcide mopped up the counter with a paper towel, he kept darting glances at me. I turned around slowly.

I was wearing red-screaming red, fire engine red. I was going to freeze most of the evening, because my dress didn’t have any shoulders, though it did have long sleeves that you slid on separately. It zipped up the back. It flared below the hips, what there was below the hips. My grandmother would have flung herself across the doorsill to keep me from going out the door in this dress. I loved it. I had got it on extreme sale at Tara’s Togs; I suspected Tara had kind of put it aside for me. Acting on a huge and unwise impulse, I’d bought the shoes and lipstick to go with it. And now the nails, thanks to Janice! I had a gray-and-black fringed silk shawl to wrap around myself, and a little bitty bag that matched my shoes. The bag was beaded.

“Turn around again,” Alcide suggested a little hoarsely. He himself was wearing a conventional black suit with a white shirt and a green patterned tie that matched his eyes. Nothing, apparently, could tame his hair. Maybe he should have gone to Janice’s beauty shop instead of me. He looked handsome and rough, though “attractive” might be a more accurate word than “handsome.”

I rotated slowly. I wasn’t confident enough to keep my eyebrows from arching in a silent question as I completed my turn.

“You look mouthwatering,” he said sincerely. I released a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

“Thanks,” I said, trying not to beam like an idiot.

I had a trying time getting into Alcide’s truck, what with the shortness of the dress and the highness of the heels, but with Alcide giving me a tactical boost, I managed.

Our destination was a small place on the corner of Capitol and Roach. It wasn’t impressive from the outside, but the Mayflower Cafe was as interesting as Alcide had predicted. Some of the people at the tables scattered on the black-and-white tile floor were dressed to the nines, like Alcide and me. Some of them were wearing flannel and denim. Some had brought their own wine or liquor. I was glad we weren’t drinking; Alcide had one beer, and that was it. I had iced tea. The food was really good, but not fancy. Dinner was long, drawn-out, and interesting. Lots of people knew Alcide, and they came by the table to say hello to him and to find out who I was. Some of these visitors were involved in the state government, some were in the building trade like Alcide, and some appeared to be friends of Alcide’s dad’s.

A few of them were not law-abiding men at all; even though I’ve always lived in Bon Temps, I know hoods when I see the product of their brains. I’m not saying they were thinking about bumping off anyone, or bribing senators, or anything specific like that. Their thoughts were greedy-greedy of money, greedy of me, and in one case, greedy of Alcide (to which he was completely oblivious, I could tell).

But most of all, these men-all of them-were greedy for power. I guess in a state capital, that lust for power was inevitable, even in as poverty-plagued a state as Mississippi.

The women with the greediest men were almost all extremely well groomed and very expensively dressed. For this one evening, I could match them, and I held my head up. One of them thought I looked like a high-priced whore, but I decided that was a compliment, at least for tonight. At least she thought I was expensive. One woman, a banker, knew Debbie the-former-girlfriend, and she examined me from head to toe, thinking Debbie would want a detailed description.