To Kiss A Frog

by Elle James

  The young woman wore a black leather miniskirt with silver chains looped low on the front, and a black tube top barely covered her perky braless boobs. “Hi, I'm Lisa. Got any coffee?” Lisa pushed past Elaine and entered the little cottage.

  What was it with people barging into her personal space? “Excuse me? Do I know you?” Elaine didn't bother disguising her irritation.

  “No, we haven't met” Lisa's gaze panned the room and then returned to Elaine. “I just wanted to come over and meet the competition.”

  Like a loose shoe in a clothes dryer, Elaine's thoughts tumbled. “Competition for what?” She could picture a contestant runway at a Bayou Beauty Queen contest. She had better odds for winning an alligator toss or swampvine-swinging contest against this woman.

  Lisa turned in the middle of the living room and raised an eyebrow. “Competition for Craig, of course.”

  Elaine's heart plummeted into her empty stomach.

  She'd always known Craig was too good-looking to be a one-woman man. But to have one of his other conquests barge into her house smacked her in the gut.

  Lisa and her perfect everything served as a grim reminder of the impermanence of Elaine's hold on Craig. How could she compete with Miss Cajun Princess, whose face and body could stop a ship? Elaine glanced down at her wrinkled clothes disguising any feminine curves beneath. Her body would only sink a ship with disappointment.

  Coffee. She needed coffee. Elaine stumbled for the kitchen.

  The sex kitten moved around the room, lightly touching books and equipment. “Are you from N'Awlins, too?”

  “Yes.” Elaine concentrated on scooping coffee grounds into the filter.

  “That's where I'm going as soon as I can shake this place,” she said, her tone more of a spoiled teenager than an adult.

  “What about Craig? Aren't you going to hang around and see who he chooses?” Must be lack of caffeine. Did she really ask another woman, a complete stranger, that question?

  “Craig?” Lisa's dark brows crinkled. “No use waiting around for him. He doesn't believe in commitment.”

  The Cajun beauty's matter-of-fact tone reinforced Elaine's observations of the day before. Why did someone else voicing the truth make her stomach muscles clench?

  “I've known Craig for years,” Lisa continued. “He likes playing the field. If you know what's good for you, you don't let yourself fall in love with the jerk.”

  “He's not a jerk.” Despite Craig's disappearing act, believe he deserved Lisa's name-calling.

  “And I have no intention of falling for him. Even if I did, it wouldn't be any of your business.”

  The black-haired woman shrugged. “Did he tell you we went out?”

  Elaine's heart bottomed out in her shoes. The man knew how to pick them.

  “No? Tsk, tsk. He's such a naughty boy.” The way Lisa said “naughty boy” made Craig sound like a sex offender.

  In Elaine's case, he'd been anything but offensive. “Look, I don't know why you came over here, nor do I care. But I certainly don't want to hear any details about your relationship with Craig Thibodeaux. I'm not now, nor have I ever been in love with him.”

  Lisa's mouth curled upward on the corners, but the semblance of a smile didn't quite reach her eyes. “Oh, I'm not warning you or anything. I'm just saying it'll be a waste of time. The man is a confirmed bachelor. Women are nothing more than playthings.”

  Elaine knew everything Lisa said was true, but at some deeper, more hopeful level, she'd ignored reason. And although every logical cell in Elaine's body screamed for her to hold her tongue, emotion won out. “Did you ever think that maybe he hasn't found the right woman yet?”

  Lisa's eyes narrowed. Her gaze ran the length of Elaine's body from the top of her frizzy brown hair to the lips of her unpolished toes. One of the Cajun woman's plucked eyebrows winged upward. “And you think you got what it takes to capture Craig's attention. Sweetie, if I couldn't keep him, what makes you think you will?”

  She jutted her breasts out just a little more as if to emphasize her point. Then she tossed her glorious black mane over her shoulder and sauntered to the door. With her hand on the knob, she paused and glanced back. "Oh,

  I wouldn't mention this conversation to Craig. He doesn't like to talk about his old girlfriends with the girlfriend of the day."

  Lisa's parting words left Elaine with a depressing image of thirty-two flavors of women at an ice cream shop. She stared at the door for several minutes after Lisa left. The magic of what she'd experienced with Craig the previous night seemed... tawdry now.

  Lisa's words echoed in her mind. If the dark-haired CaJun beauty couldn't hold Craig's attention how could Elaine expect to? Yet as much as she tried to tell herself it didn't matter, she knew it really did. With Craig, she'd felt beautiful and accepted, not a geek to be laughed about later.

  “You're not going to take any bunk from that bayou bimbo, are you?” Ms. Reneau stood framed in the screen door. “Mind if I come in?”

  Elaine blinked and shook her head. “Please do.”

  “That girl's trouble.” Mozelle turned to stare at Lisa climbing into a turquoise '67 Mustang convertible. “I said the same to Craig less than a week ago. But would he listen? No sirree. Went ahead and took her out, he did. What's this world a-comin' to? Young people disrespectin' their elders. Humph!”

  Sadly, Mozelle's words served to confirm Lisa's claim.

  Craig had gone out with the Cajun vixen less than a week ago. Did he take her to bed, too?

  The older woman stepped through the door and into the small cottage. She peered closely at Elaine before 'shaking her head. “You feelin' okay?” Mozelle placed the 'back of her hand against one of Elaine's cheeks. “No fever, but you don't look so good. What did Lisa say to you?”

  Elaine looked away, unwilling to share her disappointment with her kind neighbor. “Nothing.”

  “Nothing, ha!” Ms. Reneau walked closer and lifted Elaine's hands. “She said hurtful things, didn't she?”

  A traitorous tear snuck out the corner of Elaine's eye and trailed down her cheek. “I'm a geek. I'll never attract a man.”

  “No you're not. You're a very lovely and intelligent woman. Come here.” Ms. Reneau pulled her into a fight hug.

  It had been six years since Elaine's parents passed away... six lonely years without someone to hug her and tell her everything would be all right. With Ms. Reneau's arms wrapped around her, Elaine let the floodgates open and cried her heart out. She cried for all the years of trying to fit in. She cried for the death of her parents when she'd only been twenty and in the middle of her graduate degree. She even shed a tear for Brian's betrayal, but most of all she cried because she knew she didn't stand a snowball's chance in the bayou with Craig.

  Ms. Reneau patted her back and whispered, “It'll be all right, honey. It'll be all right.”

  When the storm passed, Elaine lifted her head and sniffed. “I'm pathetic. I shouldn't feel so sorry for myself.”

  “You got every right to.” Ms. Reneau pushed her back and stared into her eyes. “But there's no use wallowin'. Whatcha gonna do about it?”

  “What can I do?” Elaine scrubbed a hand over her damp face.

  “Fight for what you want.” The older woman dropped her arms from Elaine's shoulders and planted her fists on her hips. “Iffn' you want Craig bad enough, ain't he worth fightin' for?”

  “Craig?” Elaine blushed. “Who said anything about Craig?”

  “Girl, it's written all over your face. You're crazy about the boy.”

  Elaine gasped, and her eyes widened. “Is it that obvious?”

  “As plain as the nose on my face.” Ms. Reneau crossed her eyes and stared down the length of her nose. “Why do you think Lisa felt threatened?”

  A frown drew Elaine's eyebrows together. “Lisa... threatened? No, no, you've got that backwards.”

  Ms. Reneau's eyebrows rose. “Why would she come over here and feed you full of a bunch of hooey-balooey, i
f she didn't feel threatened by you?”

  “I don't know. But she's so much more beautiful than I am. How could Craig possibly be interested in me? She's so sexy and perfect. I'm...” stared down at her baggy T-shirt and frowned, “...just me, a scientist. I don't even know how to act like a girl.”

  “You don't?” Ms. Reneau tipped her head to the side and glanced toward the bedroom. “I'm not blind. I saw Craig sneakin' out of this house in the early morning hours on more than one occasion. If I'm not mistaken, he's more than a little interested.”

  “Yeah, but I'm not interesting enough to hold his attention. I don't have gorgeous hair like Lisa, and I don't even know how to flirt!” Elaine's shoulders slumped and she turned away.

  “We can do something about the hair and I can help you with some lips on flirting.”

  “It won't help.” Elaine's head drooped. “Once a geek, always a geek.”

  “Hmmph! That's no way to act.” Mozelle touched a finger to Elaine's chin, lifting her face. “How did you get through all those degrees?”

  Elaine's brows drew together. “What's my education got to do with this?”

  “You didn't get through all that schoolin' by quittin' when the going got tough, did you?”

  “No.”

  “You persevered and tried harder, didn't you?”

  “Yes, but -”

  Mozelle planted her hands on her hips. “No buts. You just have to set your mind on it and go after what you want. Iffn' that's Craig, you have to load your guns with the right ammunition.”

  “Huh?” Elaine blinked. “I don't understand.”

  Mozelle rolled her eyes. “Get your pocketbook and keys. You're drivin'.”

  “Where are we going?” Elaine grabbed her purse and car keys.

  “You'll see.”

  Like a lamb to the slaughter, Elaine allowed Ms. Reneau to lead her out of the cottage and to her car. Once they were inside, Elaine turned to ask, “Where to?”

  “There's a little shop in Morgan City with just what we need.”

  Not at all reassured by Mozelle's mysterious words, Elaine set the car in motion and pulled out of the driveway. She had plenty to do with her experiments, but she knew if she stayed at the cottage, she wouldn't be able to concentrate. Definitely a first. Elaine had always prided herself on her ability to focus on work, no matter what.

  The dense foliage of southern Louisiana flashed by in a blur of green. Mozelle kept up a steady stream of chatter the entire way; about what, Elaine couldn't begin to remember.

  When they reached the edge of Morgan City, Ms. Reneau pointed to a sign strangely fitting for the Atchafalaya basin. The background was a mixture of tiger stripes and jungle foliage with the words SHEAR SAFARI BEAUTY SALON looped across in vines.

  Elaine stared at the establishment, her stomach knotting. Whenever she'd taken time to have her hair professionally styled, she'd felt even more inept. She'd walk away without a clue of how to recreate what the beautician had mastered. Within hours, her hair reverted back to the same unruly mop. “You have your hair done on safari?”

  “No, but it's about time I started. One of my dearest friends works here and she's been after me for years to try something different.”

  “And you're going to do it on my account?” Elaine glanced at her with misgiving. “I don't know if I want to carry that kind of responsibility.”

  “Fooey! I'm responsible for my own actions and I choose to change. What about you?”

  The gauntlet had been tossed to the ground. Would Elaine pick it up and rise to the challenge? Or would she wimp out and run back to hide behind her microscope?

  Craig's blue eyes and the hard contours of his body seared through her memories. “It's not just about hair. What could he possibly see in me?”

  “Honey, if you can't see it yourself, how do you expect him to see it?”

  “Still, I don't know if I'm ready for radical change.”

  “Suit yourself, but I have a hair dye with my number on it. I'll see you inside.” Mozelle jumped out of the car and strode into the little shop.

  Which left Elaine sitting staring after her, feeling like the dinghy cut loose from the ship.

  She was here, she might as well get a trim. Elaine got out of the car before she could change her mind and shoved her keys into the bottom of her purse.

  Then she hesitated and stared up at the jungle-printed sign. Did she really want to have her hair done by someone with jungles on her mind? What would she do? Blow it up with an elephant gun?

  Elaine raised a hand to her ponytail. What was the worse they could do? Her hair couldn't look any less attractive than it did already. Could it? She was entirely too consumed by her own appearance. Her mind should be on the task at hand.

  What was she doing, anyway? Reacting to the threat of a beautiful woman who'd once had Craig's attention. That's what. Oh, and like a new hairstyle would improve her chances with the man? Was she out of her mind? Out of her league, yes, but did she have to lose her marbles as well?

  Elaine spun to unlock her car door.

  “Oh, don't leave! We get so few visitors in this town, I'd do your hair for free just for the practice!” The sweet southern drawl called out from the glass doorway of the salon.

  Heat suffused Elaine's cheeks and she turned toward a young woman with big, bleached-blond hair. “I changed my mind.”

  “Well, change it again, honey!” The woman's voice was pleading and welcoming, all wrapped up in a friendly smile.

  Elaine hesitated. “I don't think...”

  “That's just it. You're not supposed to think when you go to the salon. You're supposed to relax and leave the thinking to the pros.”

  Accustomed to using her brain all day long, Elaine couldn't string two coherent thoughts together to make a sensible protest. Why not let someone else do the thinking?

  On second thought, the blonde's bleached tresses and thick makeup didn't instill confidence in Elaine. Why would someone wear her hair pooled out so big? Having battled natural curl all her life, Elaine couldn't imagine anyone wanting big hair. The woman's short leopard-print skirt and black tube top hardly seemed appropriate for daytime attire. No, this was a really bad idea.

  The beautician stepped out and hooked her arm through Elaine's, giving her no choice but to follow. “Come on, I promise not to do anything drastic. A cut and maybe some highlights. That's all.”

  The pungent scent of perm solution and hairspray assailed Elaine's senses the moment she set foot in the salon.

  “Mirna Mae, look what I got!” the blonde yelled across the room.

  A thin, older woman of indeterminate age, probably in her fifties, stood behind a black vinyl chair, brushing the tangles out of Mozelle's brassy honey-colored hair. Mirna raised her arms in a touchdown motion. “Wooohooo! Way to go, Josie! Got yerself a live one.”

  “What's yer name, honey?” Josie propelled her toward a chair.

  “Elaine.”

  “Aren't you the scientist been goin' flshin' with Craig?”

  Elaine nodded, not at all excited about discussing Craig with yet another woman, especially after Lisa's visit. She just wanted her hair done. No questions asked.

  Josie sighed. “Girl, what I wouldn't give to be in yer shoes.”

  “If I were twenty years younger, I'd take a crack at him myself,” Mirna Mae, in a skintight leopard-print jumpsuit and wrinkles camouflaged in five coats of base makeup, called out. She led Mozelle to a sink in the back.

  Elaine knew she'd made a mistake. Her hair was fine the way it was. She leaned forward to get up, but a hand pressed her firmly back against the black vinyl.

  Trapped, her heart kicked up its pace into pre-panic mode, similar to the way she felt around water. In a salon filled with other women, she recognized she was in way over her head. Beauty shops were for girly girls, the ones who spent hours at the mirror fussing with makeup or hair. Such machinations were a complete mystery to Elaine. No, salons were not for serious scientists or so
cial outcasts like herself.

  Josie turned her to face the mirror and pulled out her ponytail. With deft fingers, she fluffed the long strands out and around Elaine's shoulders. “You've got a lot of lowly natural curl.”

  Elaine's eyebrows rose, and she stared at Josie's reflection in the mirror. “Kinky, curly, unruly mop would better describe it. My hair is hopeless. I should just shave it.”

  The bottled blonde's eyes widened. “Are you kidding? I have a dozen clients who'd give their left breast for hair like yours. Right, Mirna Mae?”

  “Both breasts.” Mirna Mae shut off the water and slung a towel over Mozelle's hair. “Wouldn't you give both breasts to have Elaine's hair, Mozie?”

  Mozie sat up in the shampoo chair and nodded across at Elaine. “In a New Orleans minute.”

  Elaine heaved a sighed. “Is there any hope of taming the beast?”

  Josie glanced up and smiled. “What? Your hair or Craig?”

  Warmth spread up Elaine's cheeks into her hairline. “My hair, of course. I have no interest in Mr. Thibodeaux.”

  “In that case, the hair is doable.” Josie fit a plastic cape around Elaine's neck and Velcroed it snugly against her skin. “The man is an entirely different matter.”

  “You got that right,” Mirna Mae agreed.

  “Come on.” Josie grabbed Elaine's elbow and urged her out of the chair. “It's off to the shampoo bowl for you.”

  Mirna Mae switched on a blow-dryer, aiming it at Mozelle's hair. The noise drowned out any chance of small talk. Thank goodness.

  With the spray of water sprinkling her forehead and the cool porcelain sink against the back of her neck, Elaine relaxed. Josie hadn't brought up the subject of Craig during the entire shampooing process. Maybe she wouldn't discuss him for the rest of the makeover.

  Fat chance.

  The blond beautician draped a towel over Elaine's hair and patted it dry. “I useta have the biggest crush on Craig Thibodeaux when I was thirteen.” She smiled dreamily and her tone held a hint of nostalgia. “With that coalblack hair and ice-blue eyes, he was a god a girl could easily sacrifice her virginity to.”