Hair Calamities and Hot Cash.

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Hair Calamities and Hot Cash. Page 2

by Gail Pallotta


  My supply closet was five boards installed above a chest, washer, and dryer in the narrow hall outside the restroom. “Just place the products right here.” I patted an empty shelf.

  Cardboard ripping filled the air as I folded towels. I stuffed some of them in a drawer in the chest then darted up front and laid a few on the shelf over the shampoo bowl. Concentrating on the small act of normalcy relaxed my tight muscles. If only I could close my eyes, open them, and see this was a bad dream. But it wasn’t. Eve’s Clips wouldn’t be operational again soon.

  The man returned to the front with a mop and stared at the foam. “I don’t mind cleaning up.”

  “No, that’s all right, I’ll get it la...”

  The man’s lips turned up on the corners, his gaze going soft and twinkly.

  I smoothed my hair as warmth ran through my veins. That hadn’t happened since my dear Jordan died. A pain pricked my heart because he was no longer with me, but I still had what was left of my shop. I grabbed at the mop. “Here, I’ll take that.”

  “No. I’m happy to help.” He stopped the creeping bubbles before they flowed into the glass shards. I sighed in relief.

  The foaming mess inched up on his pants.

  “Oh, no. Your expensive clothes are ruined.” I bent down and brushed his trouser legs off. “I’ll bring a hair blower right now.”

  Philip stood in the soapsuds, gazing at his leather slip-on shoes with tassels across the tops. “You have a point. Well, all right, we can dry them.”

  What was he thinking traipsing around in the middle of that watery disaster wearing his good clothes? I dried the slacks then smoothed them with my hand. “If they shrank it’s not enough to tell. They look fine.”

  “Sure, it’s nothing to worry about. I’ll sit over here and wait for Mr. Rock.” He took a few steps, and the liquid seeped from his socks over the sides of his shoes. He snatched a towel off the shelf behind the shampoo bowl and wiped it. His lips turned up on the corners in a sheepish grin as though he now realized he may have ruined his fancy loafers. He looked like a little kid who’d gotten the last cookie out of the jar.

  The timer buzzed.

  Joyce lifted the dryer off her head, moved to the second hairstylist chair and sank into it.

  I placed my hand near her scalp to avoid yanking out strands of hair as I struggled to untangle it. She said nothing, and my pulse quickened at her silence. Did she expect me to fashion my usual beautiful “do” out of the twisted, snarls?

  She sneezed as I applied more gel. “I hope you aren’t allergic to drywall dust. I’m sorry.” I glimpsed at the hood of the car in the window and nearly gagged.

  “It’s all right. I’m fine.”

  I combed so much gel through her hairdo it wilted like the camellia blossoms right before they fell off the bush. Her creased brow reflected onto the mirror, and my heart sank. I parted off sections of her hair, grabbed the curling iron and created ringlets. I brushed them out, and they crimped as if she’d stuck her finger in a live electrical socket. I covered my mouth to conceal my gasp. My reputation, my livelihood, all that I lived for frizzed out of control.

  Joyce whipped off the burgundy cape and bounded out of the chair. “I have to hurry home. Hubby will be worried.” Her eyes glistened. She was too kind to say anything rude.

  My self-confidence shrank to nothing. “I’m sorry your hair’s unruly. If you’ll come back, I’ll style it for free.”

  “Maybe I can do something with it at the house. I hope it won’t look like this tomorrow when I go to work.”

  The sole person in charge of customer service at Ray’s Department Store on Main Street, Joyce handled exchanges and wrapped gifts for customers. I doubted she wanted to face them with her hair out of control.

  The stranger had his chin lowered as though he tried to hide a large smile. Joyce patted her locks. “Could you wet it? Maybe it’ll have less volume.” She sat down in front of the shampoo bowl.

  My hands froze. Did I dare? I had to. I thoroughly drenched Joyce’s tresses then towel-dried them.

  She marched out with wet, unmanageable hair. Would mine and Joyce’s friendship go down the drain with a bottle of conditioner? Would she drive to the big beauty shop chain in Misty Gorge from now on? Would all of my customers go there? I plopped down in the shampoo chair and slumped as a dull pain hit me in the chest.

  Philip stared at the car, the spring breeze blowing what was left of the curtains. “I hope you won’t have to use that product again.”

  I forced words over the knot in my throat. “I won’t for a while. Tomorrow night is the Spring Gala for the ninth and tenth graders at Triville High and prom for the Juniors and Seniors. I’m booked all day with dry haircuts and up-dos for the girls and clips for the boys. Each year as my gift to the students, I let them wash their hair then come in. I charge only a small fee. Each of them won’t be here long, and the kids won’t mind the mess.”

  Suddenly Philip’s eyes lit up as though something had encouraged him.

  The door opened, and Lloyd entered. He’d studied automobile mechanics at a small community college and knew more about cars than anyone I’d ever met. Knowing he’d remove the monster from my window sent a tingle of hope rippling over my skin. He shook his head. “Hmm, hmm, I’m sorry, Eve.” He cast his gaze at Philip. “I’ve assessed this situation. I’ll be back to tow the car after the insurance adjuster leaves. Me and my assistant, Lou, will bring you a rental about four o’clock as soon as Miss Millie turns in one of them.”

  “All right.” Resignation lined Philip’s voice.

  Lloyd’s hairstyle was out of shape.

  “We need to make an appointment for you.”

  Lloyd touched the shaggy hairdo. “I know. I’ll call.” He left, and an awkward silence fell.

  I tried not to look at the disaster, but I couldn’t help it. “When did you say the insurance adjuster is coming?”

  “No later than two-thirty or three.”

  “I need to use the phone to call my customers.”

  “Yes, ma’am, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to take over the clean end of your desk.”

  If only that was all he’d done. He’d ruined my income and my social life. Since Jordan died only my customers connected me to the small town outside my beauty shop. “It’s all right.”

  Hoping not to disturb any more debris at the other end, I inched the drawer open and snatched my appointment book. Just today I’d have to cancel slots for eight people. My hands shook as I turned to the first page, but I persisted until I contacted everyone scheduled for this afternoon and received their sympathies for the mishap.

  Philip looked like a beaten pup.

  He was in a strange town where he knew no one and he’d had an accident. I should at least make conversation. “Where are you from, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  ~*~

  Not only did Philip not mind Eve asking, relief that she’d talk to him soothed his ragged nerves. “Of course not, I’m from New York City. I work for Make More Money.”

  Eve nearly knocked the laptop off the desk. “Make More Money with the ad on television that says, ‘Make more money with us?” She peered at Philip with dark, wide eyes.

  He swallowed his chuckle. “That’s the one.”

  “And you’re here to see Mr. Jacobsen. He lives about fifty miles away. Sold a lot of his land to some casino people from Las Vegas. We voted not to allow them here, but Mr. Jacobsen has so much property. They can plant themselves on his mountain and do whatever they want. They won’t bother us down here a bit. We might see an increase in traffic. That’s all.”

  Philip welcomed any information about Mr. Jacobsen, but an awful itch on his leg distracted him. He couldn’t resist leaning down to scratch it.

  “Probably dried soap from all that sudsy water you mopped up for me. I’m sorry.”

  “No, it’s fine.” Philip noticed a piece of paper beside his foot. He picked it up and handed it to Eve. “This has your name on it.


  Eve grasped it.

  “It must have fallen off your desk in the crash and blown over here.”

  “No. Only the appointment book was out.” She studied it and the color drained from her face.

  Philip sprang from his seat and guided her to a salon chair. “Are you OK? What does it say?”

  Eve handed it to him.

  “Do you know anyone who wants to hurt you?”

  “No, but a week ago I read an article in the Merchantville News about businesses that received threatening notes. A few days afterward they were robbed. This relates to my beauty shop.” Eve’s breath hitched.

  “Did they catch the thief?”

  “No. What if he expanded his territory?” Eve blinked as though she fought tears.

  Philip yearned to comfort her. “It never hurts to be careful, but try not to worry.” He pondered the note. “Do you have youngsters in here?”

  Eve tilted her head. “Sure, they come with their parents.”

  “It’s probably a kid. No adult would write, ‘You’re going to be a DIE-ed blond soon.” Philip tried to sound convincing.

  “You’re right. I’m overreacting...the wreck, and all.” Her voice held less strain.

  “That’s understandable.”

  Sheriff Thad entered, removed his brown felt hat, and ran his hand through dark hair. “Hello, Eve.” Worry lined his voice as he directed his gaze at Philip. “Are either of you hurt?”

  “No.” Philip gave a silent prayer of thankfulness.

  Thad nodded. “Good, but call a doctor and let him know what’s happened. If anything shows up later, he’ll have an accident report on file.”

  “Thanks, I’ll do that.”

  “All right, give me a blow by blow.” Thad whipped a pad out of his pants pocket.

  “I was riding along then all of a sudden a logging truck flew down the road and headed straight at me. I swerved, but he grazed the side of the rental car as I started down the incline. I put on my brakes, but they didn’t work. I pumped the pedal, but the rental car kept speeding until I crashed into the wall.” Philip swung his arm toward the window. “You can see the rest.”

  “Where’s the driver of the other vehicle?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “So he didn’t stop. Do you remember anything about the truck?”

  “I only saw it for a second. Any longer and I’d have been in it, but let me think.” Philip rubbed his forehead. “Ahh, yeah, it had a black cab and a flatbed loaded with logs.”

  “I’ll put out an all-points bulletin for loggers for the entire surrounding area.” Thad pulled his eyebrows together. “I hate to say this, but in addition to reckless driving, he might not have insurance. That’s probably the reason he left the scene of the accident.”

  “I know.” Resignation rang in Philip’s voice.

  “Sorry.” Thad headed out the door then looked over his shoulder. “See you later, Eve.”

  What if George had tried to contact him? An uneasy sensation pulsed through Philip’s veins. “Do you mind if I use your computer to check e-mail?”

  “Of course not.”

  He plunked down at Eve’s desk.

  A lanky man entered the shop. “Hello, ma’am, I’m Gregg Roberts with Count-on-Us Insurance.”

  “Come in.” Eve’s voice sounded weak.

  Within fifteen minutes Mr. Roberts had recorded Eve’s needs for the wall, window, and a small crack in the ceiling. “We’ve arranged for workers to arrive this afternoon and secure the window as soon as Mr. Rock tows the car.” He handed a card to Eve and one to Philip. “I’m almost finished. I’ll snap a few pictures outside and be on my way.”

  Philip glanced at Eve. She seemed all right, but the sooner Lloyd removed the car the better.

  Lloyd must have been on Mr. Roberts’s heels. He stuck his head in the door and directed his gaze toward Philip. “I’ll pull out the vehicle, but Miss Millie hasn’t turned in the rent-a-car. Me and Lou will be over here with it as soon as she does.”

  Joy sparked through Philip. He couldn’t wait to slip into the seat of a car, slide his hand around the steering wheel and know he was no longer stranded, even though he had to admit he’d enjoyed getting to know Eve. “I understand. I’ll see you then.”

  Lloyd ducked outside. In moments a roar penetrated the room and the wall shook.

  Eve trembled.

  Philip wanted to hold her. “I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t have ruined your shop for the world if I could’ve...”

  “I know.”

  The building stilled, and a huge cavity appeared. Eve turned as white as the drywall dust and sank down in a hairstylist chair, her eyes misty. Guilt eked into Philip. If only he could make it up to her.

  Two workmen with blond hair and blue eyes who could’ve passed for twins burst through the doorway.

  Eve shot out of the chair. “Hi Pete, Charlie, I’m so glad you’re here.”

  Pete stared at the gaping hole. “It looks as though we arrived just in time.” He put his hand on the hammer stuck in his brown leather belt.

  Eve glanced at Philip. “Philip Wells, meet Triville’s best handymen.” A hint of hope filled Eve’s voice. Philip shook hands with the guys as she added, “Pete and Charlie have loved building for as long as I can remember. They even won awards for some of their projects when we were in high school.”

  Pete and Charlie grinned.

  “Ahh, we’re just carpenters,” Charlie said.

  “We’ll clean and patch the hole.” Pete peered at Eve. “Try not to worry. It’ll look great when we finish.”

  The two of them left and returned carrying a broom, mop, and large metal dust pan. They dispensed with the debris and placed heavy plastic over the gaping void. “We’ll pick up your replacement window unit at Builder’s Supply in Misty Gorge and install it as quickly as possible,” Pete said.

  “Thanks, guys.”

  They left, and Philip plunked down at Eve’s desk. “I’m sorry about all of this.”

  “I know you are.” Eve tapped the threatening message she’d laid on top of her appointment book. “I should’ve asked Thad what he thought about the note.”

  All of the tenderness Philip had in him reached out to Eve. “It probably was a kid, but you could call Thad.”

  “No, I’m sure you’re right.”

  “I see Lloyd and Lou outside. I’ve made such a mess of your shop. Please let me take you to dinner. It’s the least I can do.” Philip held his breath waiting for Eve’s answer.

  “There’s no need. I should thank you for helping me mop.”

  “If you join me I won’t have to eat alone. That’s enough.”

  ~*~

  For the first time in a long time I wouldn’t nibble a one-dish microwaveable meal with no one to talk to. Could I go out with any man other than Jordan? My heart flip-flopped. Six months ago I couldn’t have done it, but something about this guy attracted me. Had Philip triggered a yearning for companionship I didn’t know I had? He was only passing through town. It was just a meal. “We could meet at Bob’s Diner. What time do you want to go?”

  “Seven o’clock, if that’s OK.”

  “Perfect.”

  “See you in an hour at Bob’s Diner.”

  Philip left and I headed outside. What an unsettling, ironic day it’d been in my quiet little beauty shop where nothing ever interrupted my hum-drum life. I locked up, crossed the patch of grassy yard to my cement porch, and opened the door to the house. And then it hit me. I had a date.

  The anticipation of seeing Philip for dinner sent happiness surging through me. He awakened a light-heartedness I hadn’t known since Jordan died. I couldn’t help but snicker as I danced across the beige carpet to the walk-in closet in the bedroom. A widow courting and feeling like a teenager. Of course, this wasn’t a real date. It was a thank you dinner. What to wear?

  There was the new, dark brown dress I purchased two weeks ago on impulse. Then I’d thought how silly and wasteful
to buy something for a special occasion. I didn’t have those anymore. I’d never wear it.

  I held it next to my chest. Was it meant for this evening?

  3

  Gravel crunched as I parked in an empty space next to the white brick and metal building. The smell of French fries and hamburgers wafted outside, where a crowd gathered underneath the white and red awning. Modern restaurants resembled Bob’s with its 1950’s look, but a 1957 construction date gave his authenticity. Joyce stood four people in front of me with a kerchief over her hair. “Hi, Eve.”

  “Hey, how’s it goin?’”

  She touched the top of her head. “I’m working on it.”

  I shrank in guilt as Lloyd turned around.

  He’d changed from his work clothes into a pair of jeans and a light blue shirt. “Hungry, Eve?”

  “You bet.”

  “Things getting cleaned up in the shop?”

  “Slowly, but surely.”

  He gave me a thumbs up.

  The crowd moved forward, and I craned my neck as I entered. Where was Philip? What if he didn’t show? I’d be the fool who tried to grab a brief moment of romance that didn’t exist.

  Ellie Ringgold waved from a booth with blue vinyl seats near the back beside a window. She was bold, robust, and good-hearted. She’d spent her life in Triville working in her father’s furniture factory as a sales clerk and bookkeeper. After so many years of talking to customers, she could go anywhere, and chat with anybody. “Eve, hon, we heard about the excitement over at your place. You wanna’ join us?”

  She sat with her boyfriend, Smitty. He was the new love of her life. Her ex-husband used her to pay his way through dental school then left. Smitty didn’t need her money. He owned the drugstore and a meat processing plant. He’d never married, but he’d had his sights set on Ellie since high school. He wasn’t a handsome man with his squared jaw and oversized nose, but once a person knew his kind heart he looked a lot better.

  “No thanks, I’m meeting someone.”

  The line moved quickly as people scooted into booths or plopped down at the counter.

 

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