Mom winked at Allie as she followed her guests into the kitchen. Joan remained seated, speaking in a low voice to Joanie, who lay lengthwise on her legs.
“I think that went well,” Allie whispered. “Don’t you?”
Joan nodded. “You’re a natural.” She locked gazes with Allie. “But as your sister I feel the need to tell you that you’ve gone a little overboard on the makeup.”
Allie gave her an injured look. “I want everyone to see the products I’m selling.”
Joan snorted. “Less is more, I always say. These women don’t wear tons of makeup. In case you haven’t noticed, some of them aren’t wearing any. They might buy a lipstick if it looks natural, but they’re not going to paint half their faces Pumpkin Orange.”
Allie sniffed. “It’s Candy Coral. Sally Jo says this shade is perfect for my coloring.”
“Whatever. I’ll bet you ten bucks you don’t sell a single lipstick tonight.”
“You’re on.”
Joan put a finger in Joanie’s waving hand and smiled down at her niece. Then she turned the smile up to Allie. “Don’t mind me. I’m just butting my nose in to give you some inexpert and unasked-for advice. That’s what sisters are for.”
Since Allie had given Joan a fair amount of unasked-for advice over the years, she didn’t answer. Instead, she headed for the kitchen. She was going to sell a lipstick tonight if it killed her.
“Three hundred eighty-seven dollars!” Allie could barely contain her glee as she totaled up the order forms after the door closed behind the last guest. She grinned across the kitchen table at Mom. “And three of your friends booked parties of their own.”
“Not bad.” Mom, balancing a sleeping Joanie in her left arm, slid the stack of order forms across the table with her right hand and glanced at them through her brown-rimmed glasses. “Oh, look. Rose bought the vacuum food sealer. That bumped your total up quite a bit. Odd that you didn’t sell any makeup, though.”
“Except to my wonderful sister.” Allie threw an arm around Joan, who was seated beside her, and hugged. “She bought a lipstick.”
“Yeah,” Joan’s lips twisted into a disgusted smirk as she tucked a lock of straight brown hair behind her ear. “I’m a sucker. I just torpedoed my own bet and paid fourteen dollars for something that would have cost me six-fifty in the store.”
“But Varie Cose’s quality is much better,” Allie told her. “And it’s guaranteed. If you want to return that lipstick for any reason at all, you can.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Joan heaved an exaggerated sigh and then grinned at Allie. “You did a good job. At your very first party, you’ve almost made back all the money you paid.”
“Well, not exactly.” Allie shuffled the stack of carbonless order form copies and slipped them into the accordion folder she’d bought at Wal-Mart. “Only half of the total comes to me. Even less of Mom’s order, since she gets the hostess discount. Plus I have to pay for her hostess gift, the lovely assortment of Varie Cose kitchen utensils in an attractive, unbreakable container.” She flashed a Sally Jo smile toward Mom.
“You don’t have to give me those,” Mom said.
“Of course I do! You were my first hostess, and I want to follow all the rules. Besides, Sally Jo says it’s a tax-deductible expense.”
Allie didn’t see any reason to mention the other expenses she’d incurred, like the shelves and skin care demo kit and catalogs and plastic bags with the Varie Cose logo on them and order pads and . . . she could give herself a headache just thinking about it.
“Hey, I thought of something I want to run by you.” Joan turned in her chair to look at Allie, an arm resting on the table. “You could donate some Varie Cose stuff to the auction.”
Allie stared, mind blank. “Auction?”
An irritated blast escaped Joan’s throat. “The dinner and auction my church group is conducting to raise money for our mission trip to Mexico. I’ve been talking about it for weeks.”
“Oh, yeah.” Allie avoided her sister’s eyes while she stored the makeup sample pouches into their compartmentalized plastic box. She was a brand-new businesswoman and not really financially stable enough to be giving away a bunch of product. But sisters should support each other. “What kind of stuff?”
Joan lifted her shoulders. “Whatever you want. It’s a charitable contribution, so it’s tax deductible. Plus it would be a good advertisement. I’m one of the auctioneers. I’ll make sure to talk you up a bunch when your stuff goes up for bid.”
Allie tilted her head as she considered. That sounded like a good investment, actually. Joan’s church had been working really hard to publicize this dinner and auction event, so it was likely to draw a large crowd. “Okay, let me see what I can put together.”
Joan sat back with a pleased smile. “Thanks.”
Allie scooped up the ballpoint pens scattered across the table and dropped them in the file with the forms. “It’s getting late. I need to get the baby home and in bed.”
“When’s your next party?”
“Thursday at Gram’s apartment, and Tori’s on Friday. Tomorrow night I’m going with Darcy to help with her first party. She was supposed to come tonight to help me, but she couldn’t find a sitter.”
“Which reminds me.” Mom’s expression was tender as she looked down into her granddaughter’s face. “Though you know I love any and every opportunity to see Joanie, I’d recommend not taking her with you from now on.”
Allie looked at her beautiful sleeping daughter. “She did kind of steal the limelight, didn’t she?”
Beside her, Joan laughed. “That, and it sort of spoiled the effect of trying to demonstrate your water purifier with a nursing kid hanging off your—”
“I get the point.” Allie cleared her throat. “You’re probably right. Mom, do you want to babysit tomorrow night?”
Mom shook her head. “I have to work a double shift at the hospital.”
She looked at Joan, who shook her head. “Wednesday night Bible study.”
Allie shrugged. “She’ll get some time with Daddy and Grandmother, then.” She stowed her things into her big consultant bag with the Varie Cose logo emblazoned on the side and stood. “Thanks again for doing this, Mom. I really, really, really appreciate it.”
Mom stood and came around the table to place a kiss on Allie’s cheek. “I was glad to do it. That’s what family’s for.”
11
Allie studied the face turned up toward hers. She’d stayed up late last night studying the color charts included in her skin care demo kit, and she mentally reviewed the pictures of various models and their ideal color options. The problem with selecting a color for Lisa was her hair. It was an artificial bright auburn, but her eyebrows were light brown. What would Sally Jo do in a case like this?
Seated beside Lisa at the round dinette table, Tori pawed through Allie’s box of eye color sample packets and pulled one out. “Try this. That pale green is terrific.”
Honestly, each of the four girls at Tori’s party had tried at least three different color combinations, and they hadn’t even gotten to the lipstick yet! At this rate, Allie would have to replenish her demo kit after her very first makeover party. She gave Tori a look that she hoped her little sister interpreted correctly. Shut up and let me do it! Tori’s bright blue eyes rounded as she returned the gaze without blinking.
“Okay, give it here.” Lisa snatched the packet and peeled it open. She reached for a clean applicator in the center of the table, and Allie purposefully turned her thoughts away from calculating the cost of the used foam-tipped sticks scattered around the table.
Seated next to Lisa, the brunette named Carrie finished brushing mascara on her lashes and lowered her mirror. “How’s that?”
Allie inspected her work. “Beautiful. That eyeliner really emphasizes the shape of your eyes. I can’t believe you don’t wear it all the time.”
Carrie looked into the mirror again. A smile touched the edges of her mouth. “You�
��re right. I kind of like it.”
Allie hid a smile. One sale, for sure. Thank goodness. Last night’s disastrous party at Gram’s retirement center had her worried that her success at Mom’s was a fluke. She selected a lipstick and handed it to Carrie. “Now for the finishing touch. Everybody look here a minute.” Four sets of eyes turned her way, and she demonstrated the proper way to apply a lip pencil, just like Sally Jo had taught her.
Heidi, the girl who worked with Tori at the advertising firm, reached for the box of lip pencils. “Oh, goody. I just love lipstick. Look at all these fun colors!”
Lisa returned to the task of smearing green powder, totally the wrong color for her in Allie’s opinion, on her eyelids. The other girl, whose name Allie had promptly forgotten as soon as Tori told her, dabbed a thick layer of powder beneath her eyes.
“Have y’all ever tried putting Preparation H beneath your eyes?”
Tori turned her bright blonde head in the girl’s direction and laughed. “Why would you do that?”
Lisa gave a final green swipe to her right eyelid and dropped the applicator on her foam tray. “They say it gets rid of bags and tightens puffy skin. Haven’t you ever seen Miss Congeniality?”
Allie handed her a dark chocolate eyeliner and instructed, “Not too thick on the bottom.” She glanced at the other girl. “Personally, I’m not putting anything on my face that was made to smear on people’s backsides. Just use a little more concealer.”
“Oooh, I really like this one!” Heidi held up a miniature lip pencil and examined the writing on the side. “Pink Satin. I definitely want one of these. But I’d like to try this one too.” She held up another.
Two sales. Allie smiled as she pushed a bottle of remover lotion and a cotton ball toward her. “Go into the bathroom and clean your lips. Be careful not to mess up your foundation, though.”
She’d been disappointed when Tori told her she was expecting only four guests. But unlike Mom’s party guests, these girls loved makeup, so she ought to sell enough to make the drive to Lexington pay off. With luck they’d all book parties of their own, and Allie’s customer base would expand beyond her family.
Allie stepped from the chilly night air into the house. Eric, seated on the couch, glanced up at her for a single second before returning his attention to the television. “Hey. How’d it go?”
Allie looked at the screen. A ball game. She’d figured all the ball games would be over by ten thirty. Of course, then Eric would just watch a recap show on one of the sports channels.
“Fine.” She let her purse slip off her shoulder and land on the chair by the door. “I sold almost as much tonight to four people as I did the other night at Mom’s house.” His gaze remained fixed on the game, but he nodded. “That’s good.”
Allie dropped onto the edge of the chair cushion, still holding her demo bag. “Sort of makes up for last night’s disaster.” Allie had hoped folks who lived in Gram’s upscale retirement center would spend a lot of money, but they’d turned out to be tough customers. A shame Varie Cose didn’t sell anti-aging products.
“Hmmm.”
Allie looked toward the guest room. “Is your mother already in bed?” He didn’t answer. She spoke sharply. “Eric!”
He looked at her, his expression blank. “Huh?”
“Your mother. Has she gone to bed?”
“Uh huh. You just missed her.”
“What about Joanie? How did she do tonight?”
“Great.” He looked back at the television, then straightened. “Oh! Guess what she did? She reached for a toy and managed to grab it.”
Dismayed, Allie dropped her kit on the floor. “She did?”
“Yeah, she was lying on the baby gym mat, and Mom was punching the button on that frog dangling above her, the one that sings and lights up. Joanie stared at it for a minute, then she reached right up and grabbed it.”
Allie leaned back in the chair, her purse pressing into her lower back. Her baby had taken an important developmental step, and she missed it. She pushed her lower lip out and pulled a sad face. Eric didn’t notice. He’d turned his attention back to the television.
Irritation flashed through her. “Eric.” Her voice came out more snappish than she intended, but it got his attention. He looked at her, and she went on in a calmer tone. “Could you please turn the television off?”
His brow creased. “What for?”
Allie’s fingers tightened on the padded arms of the chair. “I’d like to talk, and it’s hard to do when you’re obviously paying more attention to that stupid game than me.”
His eyelids narrowed. “Let me get this straight. You’re gone to a party every night this week, and when you finally decide to come home, you want me to drop everything and focus all my attention on you.”
Anger flared. “I was working every night this week. You act like I’ve been out partying without you.”
“Yeah, well, I worked every day this week. The way I look at it, if I want to relax at night by watching a game or two, I’m entitled.”
Allie stiffened in the chair. “I think I’m entitled to at least one conversation with my husband every evening.”
“Well, then maybe you ought to stay home every now and then.” Eric shifted his gaze back to the television.
Honestly, he could be so irritating! Allie stood abruptly. “I’m going to check on the baby.”
She marched between him and the television set toward the nursery, her nose in the air. He responded by punching the volume up on the remote control.
As she let herself into the nursery, she gnawed on the inside of her bottom lip. She hated arguing with Eric. Correction. That was not an argument. Both people had to be actively involved in order for it to be called an argument.
She pulled the door shut with a quiet click. It served her right. She knew better than to interrupt him during a ball game. He was just like—
She shook her head and tried not to finish the thought. Mom and Daddy had way more problems than just television. Primarily, Daddy’s unfaithfulness. Eric would never be unfaithful. He just had an irritating addiction to sports, that’s all.
Allie pushed away the disquieting feelings that soured her stomach and looked into the crib. At the sight of her slumbering daughter, her tense muscles relaxed. She ran a finger tenderly over the soft baby hair. She hated missing any important step in Joanie’s development, but at least her daughter had been at home, with her father and grandmother, instead of with a babysitter. And tomorrow was Saturday, the first day Allie didn’t have a meeting or party to go to all week. Maybe Eric would go with her in the morning to deliver Tuesday night’s Varie Cose orders, and they could grab some lunch or something. Then they could spend the afternoon at home, enjoying family time.
Except Eric would probably be plastered to the television, watching college football games all day.
Sports were definitely the worst invention men had ever made, at least as far as wives were concerned. Correction. Sports were the second worst invention. Bathroom scales topped the list.
Eric’s cell phone, plugged into the charger in the bedroom, rang at 10:20 Saturday morning. Seated on the sofa in the living room, he tore his gaze from the article recapping a high school homecoming game and glanced at Allie over the top of the Lexington newspaper. Danville’s paper didn’t have a Saturday edition. Beside him, Mother paged through the sale ads, though why she bothered with the ads from another town he couldn’t imagine.
“Want me to grab it?” Allie sat in the chair sipping coffee, her feet tucked under her.
Eric would have let her, but she hadn’t made a move to get up from the chair. She was quiet this morning, obviously nursing a grudge over last night.
He set the paper aside and heaved himself off the couch. “No, I’ll get it.”
The phone was starting its fourth ring when he snatched it off the bedside table and glanced at the display screen. Molly Green. Weird. Molly never called him at home, though all the dispatchers
had everyone else’s contact information, in case of a major emergency at work.
Eric pushed the Talk button. “Hey, Molly.”
“Eric.” Her familiar voice sounded a bit breathless. “I’m so sorry to bother you at home, but I couldn’t think who else to call.”
He unplugged the charger and walked back toward the living room. “No problem. Is everything okay?”
“Oh yeah, fine. Well, not fine. I’m having toilet problems, and I can’t get a plumber over here until Monday. Or rather,” she clarified, “I found one who will come, but I can’t afford to pay the weekend rates. We only have one bathroom, so I can’t wait until Monday. Could I borrow some tools so I can fix it myself?”
Eric leaned against the wall, the phone to his ear. “I’m not a plumber, but I could take a look at it for you.”
Allie looked up from the newspaper, a crease deepening on her forehead.
Molly spoke in a rush. “Oh no, I don’t want you to spend your Saturday fixing my toilet. I just need some tools, that’s all. All I have is a screwdriver and a hammer, and I think this job is going to take a little more than that.”
Eric shook his head. “Molly, have you ever fixed a toilet?” “Well, no. But I’m hoping it’ll turn out to be something easy.”
“We don’t have anything going on this morning,” he said. “I’ll be there in half an hour.”
“Well, if you’re sure.” Relief made her tone light. “Thanks, Eric.”
“No problem.”
Eric punched the End button and straightened. Frowning, Allie had dropped the newspaper in her lap to watch him. Mother picked up a pen and circled something on the flyer.
“You didn’t have any plans for today, did you?” he asked Allie.
“I have some Varie Cose orders to deliver, and I thought it would be fun if you went along with me.”
“Fun? Running around town like a delivery boy?” Eric gave a snort of laughter. “I’d rather fix a toilet if it’s all the same to you.”
Age Before Beauty Page 10
