Falling for You Again

by Catherine Palmer

  But worst of all was her neck. Esther shook her head in dismay. What on earth could have caused all that skin to loosen up and let go of its hold on her chin? It reminded her of an old velvet theater curtain, swagged and draped from ceiling to floor.

  “What’s the matter?” Patsy asked. “You’re frowning. Am I doing something wrong this afternoon?”

  “It’s not you,” Esther assured her. “It’s me. Do you want to hear the strangest thing? I can’t remember ever being a woman. You know what I mean? A full-fledged woman—like my mother.”

  “You’re a woman right now, Esther. And a lovely one, at that.”

  “I’m an old lady. That’s what I am. Here’s the trouble, Patsy. I can remember wanting to become a woman. But I never felt like I actually got there. In my mind, I’ve always been a young girl—dancing through life like a will-o’-the-wisp. When my hair started to turn white, I kept it colored. When my bones ached, I pretended not to notice. But all of a sudden there’s no getting around it. I’m old. Just like that, I went from young to old. Somehow I completely skipped womanhood.”

  “I’ve been doing your hair a long time, honey, and I don’t think of you as young or old or anything else. To me, you’re just Esther. Pretty, sweet, kind, and generous Esther Moore. I don’t believe age matters a whit. It’s a person’s character that counts.”

  “How old are you, Patsy? I’ve often wondered.”

  “Better watch out,” the stylist clucked. “You’re starting to sound like Cody. We might have to work on your social skills.”

  Esther laughed. “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business. I do worry about you, though, sweetheart. You’ve been running this salon for years, but what have you ever done for yourself? You never take a vacation. You don’t have a husband or children. You’re too busy to take up a hobby or even volunteer for anything.”

  “Now hold on there. I’m a member of the Tea Lovers’ Club, don’t forget. And I’ve done my fair share of helping out with the neighborhood get-togethers. Not to mention providing plenty of entertainment at the last Fourth of July picnic.”

  Esther was pleased to see that Patsy had arrived at a point of finding humor in her Independence Day pratfall. Esther’s flying car incident had been the talk of Deepwater Cove more recently, and she had decided to make light of it. In life, she had learned, it was best not to dwell too much on past events. Things happened—right or wrong, good or bad, funny or sad—and a smart woman moved forward.

  “I hear a new manicure place moved in beside the tattoo parlor,” Esther said. “I know that must be bringing you some competition. Have you ever thought of selling your business and starting off on a new path?”

  Patsy raised the hair spray but didn’t push the button. “Sell my salon?” she asked. “Sell Just As I Am? Why would I do that?”

  “As I said, there’s the new manicure business, and I hear Brenda Hansen has considered putting a decor shop into that last empty spot past the Pop-In.”

  “She sure is. It’s going to be called Bless Your Hearth, and I can’t wait for it to open up. Steve is building dividers out of shelving and lattice, and Cody’s already painting the walls. Brenda plans to use blocks of color to break the shop into separate areas for bedding, living room items, bath goods, and kitchenware.”

  “All that color in one room?”

  “It’ll blend, Esther. Taupe, deep chocolate, and robin’s egg blue. Don’t those sound yummy together? Brenda’s going to stock all kinds of local items, too—Ashley’s beads, Color of Mercy’s CDs, walnut bowls, you name it. I’m half afraid her store will make my salon look downright dowdy.”

  “Which is exactly what I was talking about a minute ago. Patsy, aren’t you a little tired of running your salon day after day? I thought that after all these years, maybe you’d be leaning in another direction.”

  “What other direction?”

  Patsy began to spray. To Esther, she seemed a little more animated than usual, filling the air around her client’s head with a cloud of vapor. Patsy was nervous, but who wouldn’t be at such a precipitous time in life?

  Esther coughed and waved her hand in front of her eyes before she could reply. “Cody told me that he saw you and Pete Roberts at the movies last weekend. He mentioned that Pete was wearing … well, Cody said he was wearing lipstick. And with that information, I assumed that the two of you might be enjoying one another’s company a little more than you let on.”

  Setting the spray can on the desk at her station, Patsy placed one hand on her hip. “Esther Moore, are you trying to sniggle information out of me?”

  “I don’t know that I’d put it quite that way.”

  “Well, I’m not a bit worried about Brenda’s shop. And for your information, the new manicure place is no competition for Just As I Am either. It’s not even much of a business. I went over there to check it out. The tattoo shop hired a woman who paints fingernails black, blue, green, or purple. She pierces anything you want a hole stuck through, and they gave her husband a job because he specializes in motorcycle tattoos. If you want to look young again, Esther, why don’t you go and get yourself some sparkly green nail polish and an eyebrow ring?”

  Almost the moment the words were out of her mouth, Patsy swung around and covered her face with her hands. “Oh, Esther, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. That was mean, just plain mean.”

  Esther swiveled the chair toward her friend, then reached up and took Patsy’s hand. “It’s my fault for prying. I would never want you to sell Just As I Am, honeybunch. What would I do without my regular set-and-style? As for you and Pete … all I meant is that I would love to see you happily hitched. There’s nothing sweeter than a loving marriage, but it’s none of my business what you young people do these days. I’m old and nosy, and I’m a great big gossip, too. I know it as well as I know the nose on my own face. Please forgive me for butting into your privacy.”

  When Patsy turned around, Esther was surprised to see that big tears hung at the ends of her friend’s long black eyelashes.

  “Gracious,” Esther murmured, standing to give Patsy a hug. “I had no idea my words would be taken so much to heart. Why don’t you spray me a little while longer, and we’ll change the subject? That way we won’t say good-bye on a sour note.”

  “It’s not that, Esther.” Patsy picked up the can and again began filling the air with mist. “I really don’t know what to say. I’m so confused about Pete.”

  “Then let’s discuss Charlie. Do you know what that fellow of mine has done? He up and volunteered to help Brad Hanes build a spare room on the side of the Haneses’ little house.”

  “Charlie’s building the new nursery?”

  “The jury’s still out on the room’s purpose, but I’m guessing it’s more likely to be a nursery than a garage—at least if Ashley has her way. When Charlie came home and told me what he’d agreed to, I was sure surprised. He’s been helping with the beads some, but truth to tell, he enjoys his retirement. He does nothing but watch TV day and night. I’ll bet he could win us a million dollars on one of those game shows. He knows all the answers long before the contestants do.”

  “My goodness,” Patsy said.

  “Charlie’s so smart, though you’d never know it to look at him. Anyway, he realized that something needed to be done about that eyesore Brad started building last spring. Brad and Ashley are too young to really know what they’re doing. They up and got married, bought a house and a truck, and the next thing you know, she’s starting a bead business. They’re running themselves ragged. And let me tell you—that does not make for an easy marriage. I remember the days when Charlie was starting out as a mail carrier. We could barely make ends meet, and before we knew it, the babies came along. I was exhausted. He was tired and cranky. Those were difficult years.”

  “But look how well things worked out,” Patsy said. She glanced at the dividing wall between her salon and Pete’s Rods-N-Ends. Then she sighed. “What’s your secret, Esther? H
ow did you and Charlie manage to build such a happy marriage?”

  A happy marriage? For a moment, Esther sat in the cloud of hair spray thinking of nothing but the multitude of troubles she and her husband had faced through the years. A meager paycheck. A cramped apartment. Fatigue. Messy diapers. Skinned knees. Moving from one house to another. Childhood sassiness followed by teenage rebellion. Not to mention the worries of seeing their children face more adult challenges once they’d left home. Arguments. Illnesses. Disagreements. A thousand little annoyances. It was a wonder they had made it at all.

  But as the fog cleared and she looked up at Patsy’s hopeful face, Esther understood the desire of her dear friend’s heart. Patsy didn’t want to know about all the hardships and anguish in marriage. She wanted to hear the good news. The fun. The laughter. The warmth and celebration and love.

  “Such a happy marriage,” Esther repeated, reflecting on Patsy’s words. “It’s a matter of taking things as they come, honey. Put one foot in front of the other and keep going. Of course, it helps if you marry someone as wonderful as Charlie Moore. I simply adore that man. He’s the light of my life, and I can’t imagine ever being without him.”

  “So that’s it, then?” Patsy asked. “The big secret? Taking things one day at a time.”

  The disappointment in Patsy’s voice led Esther to reconsider. She certainly didn’t want to discourage a romantic liaison by pulling out a list of all the challenges marriage could bring. Patsy and Pete were no starry-eyed teenagers. Pete had a difficult past, and Patsy knew that all too well. What she wanted was hope. A future she could look forward to with joy and eager anticipation. The last thing she needed was a reminder about dirty socks and ratty house shoes and a man who smelled to high heaven every time he walked in from working in his garden in the hot summer sun.

  “Marriage is much more than one day at a time,” Esther said as she focused on herself in the mirror. She made an effort to recall the good times and found it wasn’t too hard after all. “Marriage is a blissful gift from God. When you wake up from a bad dream, someone wraps his warm arms around you until you fall back to sleep. When you look across the dining room table, you see the face of a man who has loved you through thick and thin. When you hold hands in church, you know every single bump and callus on your husband’s palm and knuckles. Even though there were times in my life when I wished I’d waited awhile to marry, in the long run I wouldn’t do it any different. I truly am glad we married when we did, and I don’t regret a single thing about our life together. I’d never want to be single and all alone, rattling around like a marble in an empty shoe box. I think I’d cry every single day if I had to live like that—wouldn’t you?”

  Esther looked up and realized all at once that she wasn’t talking to Charlie. She was sitting in Patsy Pringle’s salon chair. Not only that, but she’d been rambling about something to do with marriage and all its glories.

  How could she have been so insensitive? There stood Patsy, looking about as forlorn as a lost puppy. Esther knew it was time to change the subject, and quick. But she couldn’t leap into another topic without sounding like her brain had turned to mush.

  “Marriage,” she said. “Yessirree, marriage.” She nodded her head a moment, struggling to think of something. Then it hit her. “Marriage is what concerns me about Jennifer and Cody. I’m sure she doesn’t want to go off into the jungle without a husband to protect her from the natives. And we all know that Cody is head over heels in love with her. But the two of them together? It’s a recipe for trouble, if you ask me. She can’t be thinking about him seriously, can she?”

  “Jennifer is my next client. Why don’t you ask her?”

  “Heavens, no! I wouldn’t want anyone to suppose I was nosy. It’s Jennifer’s business what she does with her life. It’s just that Cody is so … well, how would you describe it?”

  “Autistic is the word Jessica used.” Patsy picked up Esther’s purse. “When she got back to college, she sent her sister a bunch of information from that education class she’s taking. Jennifer has done some more research, and both girls are convinced that Cody is autistic. They say he’s very high-level with his skills, and he’s learned how to make up for most of his weak areas. Did you know some autistic people have strong areas of talent? You’ve heard of those math or music geniuses, I’m sure. Jennifer told me that Cody learned to read much faster than anyone would have thought possible. And his artwork is amazing.”

  “She would say that,” Esther said, standing and giving her hair a last pat. “Every picture Cody paints is of Jennifer, including your entire mural. I’ve never seen so many Jennifers in my life. I can’t imagine what she thinks of that wall.”

  “She seems to accept everything about him,” Patsy said as they walked toward the counter. “Jennifer told me that once she found out Cody was autistic, everything fit together like a jigsaw puzzle. Not a single piece is missing. And Cody Goss is a pretty good-looking puzzle, if I do say so myself.”

  “Yes, but he’s a puzzle all the same.” Esther took out her checkbook and to her immense relief discovered that Charlie had already filled in all the blanks and written out the usual amount. Ever since she added an extra zero to the utilities payment, he’d been helping her with the bills. She didn’t mind a bit.

  “I’m certainly not autistic,” she told Patsy with a laugh. “Goodness, math has never been my area of talent. That’s for sure! I can’t paint or play an instrument either. As a matter of fact, I can’t seem to do much of …” She shook her head, trying to dislodge the dark cloud. “Well, never mind. I’ll just sit over there and wait for Charlie. Oh, look—here’s Jennifer. Isn’t she the prettiest thing?”

  Esther greeted the young woman and then seated herself near Patsy’s station. She enjoyed watching the stylist work. Patsy had made an art form out of hair. There was nothing the woman couldn’t do. Whether her customer’s mane was straight or curly, long or short, thick or thin, Patsy could literally transform it from one fashion and color into another.

  Setting her purse on her lap, Esther glanced toward the front door. Charlie was rarely on time these days, it seemed. The two of them had such trouble meeting up at the right times and places. Charlie faulted her for not checking her watch. Esther blamed it on the fact that her husband had refused to consider buying another car. Before the accident, they’d never had trouble tending to their own matters independently. Now she felt as though they were joined at the hip.

  “No one had any idea Cody could create faux finishes,” Jennifer was telling Patsy. Esther tried not to listen, but the young woman was talking loudly enough for half the salon to hear. “Miranda Finley often takes Cody to the library with the twins, and he checks out books. He can read anything, you know.”

  “Is that right?” Patsy had begun trimming the ends of Jennifer’s long, straight blonde hair. “I guess I hadn’t realized he’d come such a long way.”

  “He’s amazing. He read a book about decorative paint finishes, and then one morning my mom walked into the new store to find that he’d done an entire wall to look like burnished leather. It’s just gorgeous.”

  “Leather? On the wall?”

  “It looks sort of rough—like cowhide—but it literally glows. Mom thinks Cody can get work faux-finishing walls for some of Dad’s real estate clients. You know how much help Miranda has been with Ashley Hanes’s bead business? Well, she says she’s going to make business cards and a Web site for Cody. Can you imagine that?”

  “Who would have thought!”

  Esther eyed Patsy, wondering if she had any real concerns about Jennifer’s enthusiasm for Cody. Faux finishes or not, that young man had a long way to go before he would fit comfortably into society. There were far too many people who didn’t have the patience of sweet Jennifer Hansen.

  “Cody wants to paint the sky on the ceiling,” she was continuing. “Mom’s not sure about that. She says clouds are very hard to get right. On the other hand, Cody can do almost anything
he tries.”

  “With art,” Patsy clarified. “I do believe that young man could make a thunderstorm appear on the ceiling of your mother’s store. But there are things he struggles with, Jennifer. You know that.”

  “Oh, sure. He drives Jessica’s fiancé up the wall. Dad struggles too when Cody gets going on one of his favorite topics. Dad says it’s like he’s a stuck record. I’ve never heard a stuck record, but I get the idea.”

  “Cody definitely has things he talks about over and over. Hot dogs. Chocolate cake cut into squares.” Patsy reached around Jennifer to make sure the ends of her hair were even in front. As she did, she looked directly at the young woman and spoke more softly. “I’m sure you know how Cody feels about you. To tell you the truth, I’m a little concerned. He’s smitten, sweetheart, and I’d never want to see him hurt.”

  “I wouldn’t hurt Cody.” The dismay was obvious in Jennifer’s voice. “I care about him.”

  “But he loves you.”

  “He says that, but he doesn’t really know what it means.” Jennifer studied her hands in her lap. “He’s never known about real love. Romantic love. He barely understands how marriages and families work.”

  “All the same, honey, his emotions about you are genuine. I know you wouldn’t intentionally upset Cody, but you’re so kind, so generous, so truly accepting and loving of all people. Please be careful that he doesn’t misunderstand how you feel about him.”

  Jennifer fell silent for a moment, and Esther wondered if she was going to get mad. The young woman certainly had the capability of expressing herself strongly—as everyone had seen several times during TLC meetings. But now she shook her head and laid her hand over Patsy’s.

  “Don’t worry,” she said. “I’m not leading Cody on. He knows my goal in life is to serve on the mission field. He’s not prepared or educated to do anything like that—and he’s aware of that. But even more important, Patsy, I’ve told Cody exactly how I feel about him. I care about him—in the same way everyone in Deepwater Cove does. I won’t hurt him. I promise.”