Blue Ink

by Tess Thompson

  I would love to meet your mother and Boyce. However, I agree it’s too soon. One more date and you’ll see what an oaf I am and go off to find a girl who knows how to get a clam out of a shell with a miniature fork.

  Yours truly,

  Augie

  * * *

  I folded the paper back into thirds and put it carefully back in the envelope.

  “Please tell me you have one more,” Mrs. Lanigan said.

  “Not yet.” I explained how many of the letters were nothing more than sweet nothings and that I’d read them to her after we’d solved our mystery. “I’ll read some more tonight and find some to read you tomorrow.”

  Mrs. Lanigan felt for her cane. “I need to use the ladies’ room. I do not need your help.” She clasped her fingers around the handle and gingerly got out of bed. “Watch this, smarty pants.” She counted out loud as she headed toward the bathroom, feeling in front of her with the cane. “I’ll be a minute or two.”

  I tidied up the room, fluffing pillows and remaking the bed. I lifted the shades and opened several windows. Right outside, a lilac tree burst with fragrant clusters. A fat jay hopped around the lawn, looking for worms. I breathed in the scent of the lilacs. They were my mother’s favorite. I took out my phone and snapped a picture and sent it to her with a text.

  The view from Mrs. Lanigan’s room.

  Immediately, I received one in return.

  Oh, that poor dear. How horrible to know they’re there but not be able to see them. No wonder she’s grouchy.

  Mrs. Lanigan coughed, announcing her return. She stood in the bathroom doorway, blinking into the light and leaning on her cane. “Are you on your phone? I hear clicking.”

  “I was texting with my mother.”

  “I suppose you were complaining about me.”

  “How did you know?” I asked.

  “Let me guess. ‘Dreadful old woman—blind as a bat—send help.’ ”

  I laughed. “Why didn’t I think of that? Instead, I sent her a photo of the lilacs.”

  “I smell them.” Mrs. Lanigan crossed over to the chair by the window, muttering the steps under her breath.

  “I opened the windows. They’re blooming right outside. Sit in the chair here. The sun is shining right in through the window. The vitamin D will do you good.”

  With her fingertips she brushed the edge of the chair before sitting. “What do want me to do, just stick my bare arm out the window in the pursuit of vitamin D?”

  “Great idea,” I said.

  She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath through her nose. “I’ve always loved lilacs.”

  “My mother too.”

  She frowned. “Am I supposed to marvel at the odds of both of us loving lilacs? Everyone loves lilacs.”

  “Maybe not everyone. You don’t know. Right now, there could be a woman telling her husband how the pungent scent of lilacs makes her feel imprisoned.”

  “You must’ve been an exhausting child.”

  “I was an angel.”

  “I highly doubt it.” She opened her mouth then closed it.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I wondered if you might fix my hair for me.”

  “I’d love to.”

  “How bad is it?” She tugged on a tuft of her hair and grimaced.

  “Not too bad. Hang on. I’ll get a brush.” I sprinted into the bathroom, afraid she’d change her mind if I took too long. A soft bristle brush lay on the counter by the sink.

  Back with her, I ran the brush down the mass of tangles from the back of her head.

  She yowled. “That hurts.”

  “Stay still.”

  “I want to know about my roots. Give it to me straight.”

  “A good trip to the salon wouldn’t hurt,” I said.

  “That’s not straight. That’s beating around the bush. Finally, we’ve discovered your talent.”

  “Ouch.” She yelped again as I tugged on the last tangle. “You did that on purpose.”

  “I did no such thing.”

  I ignored her and continued to brush out the last of the tangles. A few minutes later, I had it mostly cooperating. I smoothed her bangs to the side and stood back to look at my progress. “You’re officially ready for town,” I said.

  “I can’t go to town. Not in this state. The townspeople would love to see how snooty old Mrs. Lanigan has fallen into disgrace.”

  I clucked my tongue, like my mother used to do to me when she thought I said something ridiculous. “You’ve hardly fallen into disgrace.”

  “Look at me.”

  “Would you like me to touch up your roots?” I asked, hoping this would entice her to agree to a trip to town and the salon. “I always did my mother’s hair.”

  “I’m used to the finest salon in San Francisco, Charlotte. I doubt you could replicate it with a box from the drugstore.” She said ‘drugstore’ like I might say meth house. “I used to be perfectly turned out at all times.”

  My heart ached when her eyes glistened with tears. Growing old was not for sissies. Someday it would be me. I hoped someone would be kind to me when the time came.

  I knelt next to her. “Let’s go into town and have your hair and nails done.”

  “Fine.”

  Fine!

  * * *

  “I can’t go without cleaning up. Since you’re here to help, you may as well actually do something useful.”

  I wanted to jump up and down with happiness, but I remained calm. “Great. Would you like me to run you a bath?”

  “No, I’d like a shower, so I can wash my hair.” She clasped her hands together so tightly her knuckles turned white. “But I’ll need you to help me get situated. I’m afraid I might fall.”

  How it cost her to ask for help.

  “Not a problem.”

  In the bathroom, I found a nonslip pad in the bathtub and moved it into the shower. The entrance into the shower was flat, so nothing would trip her. The doors were made of glass so I could keep an eye on her. “Mrs. Lanigan, there is a shelf to the right with shampoo and conditioner.”

  “Yes, I remember this shower,” she said.

  I explained they were both pumps and that the shampoo was closest to her. “Soap is a bar on the other shelf.”

  She nodded. “If I drop the soap, you’ll have to get it for me.”

  “I’m happy to.”

  “You’ll get all wet.”

  “Nothing can make my hair worse than it is,” I said. “So, don’t worry about it.”

  I turned on the water and we waited for it to get hot.

  “My son likes curly hair.”

  “Not this curly.” I felt the water with my fingertips. “Good. Nice and warm.”

  “You’ll avert your eyes?” she asked. “I don’t want you to see what I look like.”

  “No peeking, I promise.”

  She unbuttoned her nightgown and removed her underwear. “I suppose I look like a plucked chicken,” she said.

  “I’m not looking, so I wouldn’t know.” I had her hold on to my arm and guided her inside the shower. “I’m going to sit right here. Call out to me if you need anything.”

  She knocked over the shampoo twice before successfully getting it into her hair. Same went for the conditioner. Each time I picked them up and put them back in place. When she scrubbed her body with a bar of soap that smelled of honeysuckle and vanilla, she seemed more comfortable.

  “I’m done now,” she said.

  I reached in and turned off the water. Tomorrow I would help her shower with my bathing suit on. I was soaked.

  “I’m a tad damp,” I said as I wrapped her in a towel. “I’ll have to change before we go.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I’m proud of you for doing something so scary.”

  She sniffed.

  “Come sit at the vanity. I’ll comb your hair. Would you like me to put a little makeup on you?”

  I was surprised when she agreed without a fi
ght. She sat on the padded stool while I combed out her hair.

  “I used to wear it in a straight bob,” she said. “My housekeeper, Gabriella, fixed it for me at home, after I started getting bad. She was the only one who knew how...” She trailed off.

  “How bad your sight had become?”

  “Yes.”

  “How come she didn’t come here with you?”

  “She has children. A family to take care of.” Her voice sounded wistful.

  “Were you close to her?”

  “She’d been with me for twenty years.”

  That didn’t exactly answer my question, but I let it go. With Mrs. Lanigan, one had to read between the lines.

  “My makeup’s in the drawer there,” she said.

  I found a neatly organized bag with the basics, including a matte foundation. “I’m very good at makeup,” I said.

  “Of course you are. Insecure girls always are.”

  Progress.

  I helped her dress in a pair of attractive designer jeans and a cotton sweater, then helped her back to the chair by the window. “I’ll be right back to get you, but I have to go change.”

  “Don’t take forever.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Charlotte?”

  “Yes?” I asked from the doorway.

  “I might like to join you and Ardan for dinner tonight. Downstairs.”

  “Fantastic,” I said.

  “With my hair fixed and a shower, I’ll feel a little like my old self.”

  “I won’t be a minute. Hang tight.”

  I hustled down the hall to the living room. Ardan sat in a chair by the window, reading. He looked up when I came in. “What happened to you? You look like you were caught in a rainstorm.”

  I did a curtsy, Effie style. “You are looking at the woman who successfully got Mrs. Lanigan showered and dressed to go to town. She wants to have her hair done.” I bounced on my toes. “And she wants to join us for dinner tonight downstairs. The price of which is that I am soaking wet and need to change.”

  His mouth hung open for a good second. “No way.”

  “Her idea. I believe she’s embarrassed about her appearance, which is part of the reason she’s been hiding out in her room.”

  “She always insisted we dress for dinner and eat in the formal dining room. Losing control had been hard for her.”

  I shared with him that before she came here, Gabriella had helped her with her hair and getting dressed. “That’s how she was able to hide it for so long.”

  Before I realized what was happening, he had scooped me off my feet and into an embrace. “Thank you, Charlotte Wilde.”

  His muscular arms tightened around my waist as I wrapped my arms around his neck and breathed in the scent of him. No man had ever smelled this good in the history of the world. My heart beat so fast I thought I might faint when he kissed me.

  When he set me down, my legs shook like I’d had to give a presentation in front of the class. I stumbled backward, almost tripping on a table before miraculously righting myself. “I, um, need to go get changed.”

  “We’ll eat in the dining room. In honor of Mother’s reappearance.”

  “Should I wear high heels?”

  “By all means.”

  And nothing else.

  My eyes widened. No, he had not said that out loud. My mind was on overactive imagination mode. Had to be the altitude.

  “There will be no mud or elk during this evening’s festivities,” he said. “You’re safe. I’ll drive you both into town.”

  My hands flew to my mouth. “I’ve been so wrapped up, I totally forgot about my car. Has it been rescued?”

  “Yes, I got her. She’s tucked into the garage next to my car.”

  “That sounds nice.”

  “It’s almost like she belongs there.”

  Like me.

  The little shop in Peregrine was run by an adorable lady in her fifties named Heather Roberts. She was trim and lively, with a cap of wavy dark hair and a round face.

  “Ardan Lanigan, I just cut your hair last week,” Heather said. “I take it these lovely ladies here with you are the ones in need of pampering?”

  “That’s right. Mother would like to have her hair and nails done.” He glanced at me. “This is Charlotte, our friend from Oregon.”

  I smiled and held up my hands. “I’d love a manicure and pedicure if you have time.”

  “Ah, so this is Charlotte,” Heather said. “Moonstone was in yesterday to tell me all about you.” She hugged me. “Welcome to Peregrine. Ardan is one of our favorite people. We’re downright pleased as punch you’re here.”

  I looked over her shoulder at Ardan. What was a Moonstone and why was she talking about me?

  He shrugged.

  I’ll explain later.

  There it was. Ardan’s voice in my head.

  “Mrs. Lanigan, you probably don’t remember me, but I used to babysit your boys a million years ago.” Heather took both her hands.

  “Little Heather Roberts? Of course I remember you. I thought you moved away years ago and married a pilot.”

  “I did. My husband helped himself to a few too many flight attendants, so I divorced him, took half his money, and came home. My dad left me his house when he passed and thank God I’d never sold it. I’d always worked at the salon even when my kids were little, so I opened this shop to keep doing what I love and boom, here I am.”

  “Good for you,” Mrs. Lanigan said. “Act II.”

  “Yes ma’am,” Heather said.

  “I’ll leave you ladies to it,” Ardan said.

  “Don’t hurry back,” Heather said. “We’ll need a few hours.”

  “The mystery of women and their hair,” Ardan said. “Slaves to time and money.”

  “Be off with you, young man,” Heather said.

  Ardan handed her a credit card. “Whatever they want.” He smiled and waved and was gone.

  “Your sons are always the talk of the town, Mrs. Lanigan. I overheard two of my young clients talking about them as snacks.”

  “What’s a snack?” Mrs. Lanigan asked.

  “Like a hottie,” I said.

  “Hottie? That sounds like a drink.”

  I laughed. “That’s a hot toddy.”

  “We used to say foxy back in my day,” Heather said.

  “Finally, a word I can understand,” Mrs. Lanigan said.

  Heather helped Mrs. Lanigan into her chair. “Now tell me, how do you like your hair done?”

  Surprisingly, Mrs. Lanigan answered without her usual sharpness. She was acting downright gracious and well-mannered. “I like it straight and sleek with an ash blond color. My Gabriella used to smooth it for me with a flatiron, but I’m unable to do so by myself.”

  “I have just the solution,” Heather said. “There’s a new product that will make it shine and lay flat with or without a hairdryer or iron. I have the perfect color for you as well.”

  Mrs. Lanigan sighed. “I’d be most grateful.”

  Heather waved me over to the pedicure chair. “Have a seat, Charlotte. Relax for a bit while I work on Mrs. Lanigan.” She turned on the water and added some bath salts.

  I put my feet in the warm water and closed my eyes. This really was the best job ever.

  That evening, I walked into the dining room. Ardan and Mrs. Lanigan were already seated at the rectangular mahogany table. Place settings for three were on one end, with Mrs. Lanigan and Ardan sitting across from each other.

  Ardan started and drew in a quick breath at the sight of me. His gaze traveled from my face to my chest to my legs and back up again. “Well, that’s what I call dressing for dinner.”

  “This old thing?” I wore a dark blue dress with white polka dots. The A-line skirt and sweetheart neckline gave it a retro vibe that flattered my hourglass figure. Instead of my black pumps, I wore strappy, four-inch sandals. My hair liked the dry air, curling cooperatively around my face. Subtle makeup expertly applied emphasize
d my eyes. After I’d dressed, I’d twirled before the full-length mirror in my room, imagining myself a film star from the forties. I’d almost admired myself.

  No reflection from a mirror could ever convey what I perceived in Ardan’s gaze. From his viewpoint I was glorious, spectacular, the most exquisite, sexiest woman in the world.

  He stood and pulled out the chair at the head of the table. “Please, sit.”

  I did so, smiling up at him as he scooted my chair closer to the table.

  “Mother, you look beautiful,” Ardan said as he returned to his seat. “Heather did a great job on your hair.”

  “Charlotte picked out my dress,” she said.

  I’d chosen a pink sheath to match her lipstick. “You look ten years younger,” I said. “Heather’s suggestion of the side bangs are like a facelift.”

  “I’ll have to take your word for it. I take it you look nice as well,” Mrs. Lanigan said with a droll lilt to her voice.

  “Yes,” he said. “She does.”

  Ardan looked good enough to eat in his black jeans and a button down, untucked shirt.

  “What are you wearing that made my son gasp?”

  “A blue dress with polka dots,” I said. “Kind of old-fashioned and modest. Nothing special.”

  “It’s not the dress that’s special,” Ardan said.

  I flushed. Happy bees buzzed in my chest.

  “What did my father say in his letter to Augie about her dress?” Mrs. Lanigan asked. “Do you remember?”

  “ ‘A dress is only as pretty as the woman wearing it,’ ” Ardan said. “I couldn’t agree more.”

  “Oh, brother,” Mrs. Lanigan said. “Is this what I can expect all evening?”

  Ardan and I laughed as our gazes locked. It was probably best Mrs. Lanigan couldn’t see us. She’d be even more disgusted.

  Effie arrived with plates of food. She served Ardan and I first, then quickly returned with Mrs. Lanigan’s plate.

  The dinner consisted of marinated flank steak, scalloped potatoes, and asparagus spears that had been sautéed in butter and garlic.