Day by Day

by Delia Parr

  A rubber band held the stack of paper money together, stored in ascending value, and the dollar bills far outnumbered the larger denominations, making it appear as if she had much more cash than she really did. “Business is good, and my clients are generous. Thank you, God,” she whispered, although she still needed something akin to the miracle of the loaves and fishes if she was going to make it financially to the first of the year, even with a moderate forecast for holiday tips.

  She tapped numbers into the calculator for her usual expenses, like utilities and taxes, a number she hoped would be enough for Brian’s winter clothes and food. She shook her head. For a small child, he sure had a healthy appetite!

  When she saw the total, compared it to the number she had written down for the salary she would earn, her survival funds, and a projection of future tips, she groaned. She was still short. A lot short. And she had not set aside any funds for Christmas.

  When the front doorbell rang, she welcomed the diversion. She was halfway to the door when the possibility that Candy might be standing on the other side occurred to her. Cautiously, she left the inside bolt in place, along with the new chain-guard she had managed to install herself and pulled back the curtain on the living room window a little and peeked outside.

  She grinned, dropped the curtain back into place and opened the door to greet her boss, Ann Porter. “This is a surprise! Come in!”

  Leaning on her cane, Ann hesitated. “I saw your lights on. I hope it isn’t too late to drop in unexpectedly.”

  “Don’t be silly. It’s only nine o’clock, and besides, I haven’t seen you for a few days. Come in,” she urged, stepping aside to let Ann in. “Do you have time for a cup of hot cider?”

  “Only if you’ll join me.”

  “Absolutely! I just have to clear off the kitchen table.” She carefully locked and bolted the door again before resetting the chain. She followed Ann back through the narrow foyer and the dining room into the kitchen. It was slow going, and Judy could not help but notice how much Ann had aged over the course of the past few months. Worried about why Ann had come to see her, Judy stepped into the kitchen and around Ann to pull out a padded chair at the red Formica table she and Frank had bought as newlyweds. “Here. Have a seat and relax.”

  Ann plopped into the seat, heaved a sigh and hung her cane on the back of the nearest chair. “Don’t get old, Judy.”

  “Sorry. It’s too late,” she argued while she filled a saucepan with cider and set it onto the stove to heat.

  Ann sighed again. “It’s not true, you know.”

  “What? That I’m not old yet? Ha!”

  “No. That ‘Life begins at fifty,’” she said, mimicking the slogan most baby boomers had latched on to as they neared retirement age. “In truth, life does begin at fifty. To deteriorate, that is. At sixty, it’s even worse. And these are the ‘Golden Years’? Forget it. It’s all propaganda. I wonder if I can sue somebody for breach of promise.”

  “Not a chance. Besides, you’re just feeling cranky because your foot is still sore. If you’d follow the doctor’s orders and eat right and take your medicine, maybe you’d feel better a lot sooner,” she teased, grateful that Ann had not lost her sense of humor.

  “That’s what I mean,” Ann countered. “Before I turned fifty, I had no idea what gout was. And I used to eat anything and everything in double portions. Never got sick and never gained an ounce, and I spent twelve hours a day working. I still work hard, but look at me.”

  Judy cleared the table and set her box of survival funds and other stuff on the countertop before she put a pair of mugs and spoons on the table. “You look fine.”

  “I’m heavier than I’ve ever been. Tell the truth. Can you eat like you used to, or do you have to watch what you eat?”

  Judy cringed. “Actually, I pretty much eat what I want.”

  “Okay. Forget about gaining weight. What about shopping? When’s the last time you spent the morning or an afternoon shopping without having to look for a ladies’ room? And I don’t mean for Brian.”

  “I’ll give you that one,” Judy offered as she poured the cider into the mugs and set them on the table. She peeked into the cabinet, found the jar of cinnamon sticks and carried it to the table where she put one of the sticks into each of the mugs.

  “What about your legs?” Ann asked with a know-it-all look.

  “What about them?”

  “No varicose veins or spider veins?”

  Judy shrugged. “Maybe a few.”

  “Hah! You didn’t have those at thirty. And take a look in the mirror. Crow’s feet. Sagging chin. Turkey neck. It’s all there!”

  Judy leaned back against the counter and burst out laughing. “Thanks! You make it sound so awful.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  “It’s just part of aging. It’s perfectly normal. It’s part of life.”

  Ann finally laughed with her. “I guess so, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it or that I have to buy into the idea that these are the best years of my life. They’re not.”

  Judy took a deep breath. “Maybe not, but they’re all we have, and I’m not going to dwell on the past or how it used to be or how it could be better if I were younger. I am what I am, and I’m just thankful for every day I get to be here,” she murmured as thoughts of Brian wrapped around her heart and she sat down across from Ann.

  As Ann stirred her cider, her mood turned more serious. “Enough about me for now. What about you? Are you really doing okay?”

  “I really am,” Judy insisted. “Some days are better than others, of course, but overall, life is good. Brian is a handful, but he’s a charmer.”

  Ann’s gaze softened. “What about Candy? Have you had any word?”

  Judy took a sip of cider. “Nothing new. I’m just taking it one day at a time. Having Ginger and Barbara as friends helps a lot. You, too,” she added. “I’m really glad we’re friends.”

  Ann wrapped her hands around her mug. “Me, too,” she whispered and dropped her gaze. “This is harder than I thought it would be.” When she looked up at Judy, her gaze was deeply troubled.

  Judy’s spine tingled, and she braced herself to hear the news that Ann had brought. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m tired, Judy. Just plain dog tired. I’m tired of fighting gout, not to mention frigid winters that make my bones ache. I’m tired of pushing myself out of bed every morning to get to work.” She sighed. “We’ve worked together now for over thirty years, but it’s time for me to face the fact I don’t have more years left than I’ve already spent. I had a long talk with Jamie this morning. I miss her, Judy. She’s all the family I have left in the world, and I’d like to spend whatever time I do have left living close to her so…I think it’s time to retire, Judy, and put Pretty Ladies up for sale. I—I met with Andrea Sanderson today, but I told her I wasn’t going to sign a contract until I spoke with you first.”

  Judy clutched the edge of the table and struggled for breath. “You’re really going to retire and move to North Carolina? And sell the salon?”

  “Assuming I can find a buyer, I’d like to retire by summer. The building itself will attract plenty of interest, but the business…I worry about that. Even if a buyer decided to keep the salon running, I doubt it would be the same. If the other salons in town are any indication, the new owner would probably add a nail salon, raise the prices and try to attract younger, more affluent clients.”

  She sniffled and wiped at her tears. “I don’t think the new owner will worry about the seniors at the Towers, which truly bothers me a lot, but it’s you I’m worried about most of all. There’s no guarantee a new owner would keep you on, and I—I’m not sure what to do about that unless…unless maybe you…you could buy the salon?”

  Judy blinked back tears of her own. Through blurred vision, she saw the anguish on Ann’s face and got a glimpse of the box with her survival funds on the countertop. All of her worries about having enough money to survive the next two m
onths were washed away by a tidal wave of terrifying questions that swamped her mind.

  How could she possibly survive and meet her responsibilities to Brian if she lost her job? She had not looked for a job for more than thirty years! She had no car and relying on public transportation would be as costly as it would be time-consuming. Her welfare, however, was not Ann’s concern. She drew in a long breath. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll figure out something,” she murmured.

  “I—I was hoping maybe you’d want to buy the salon yourself,” Ann prompted. “I’d feel a whole lot better about retiring if you did.”

  Judy gasped. “Me? Buy the salon? With what? My good looks? Now that’s an idea! If only I’d thought about it twenty years ago when I had any looks at all.” She shook her head. “Life doesn’t begin at fifty. You said so yourself, and I’m a good seven years past that magic number now. There’s no way I could start my own business now.”

  “But you wouldn’t be starting anything,” Ann countered and quickly outlined an idea that had Judy’s head spinning and her heart pounding with just the possibility Ann was right.

  True, Judy had no money of her own, to speak of.

  But she did have her own strong will to survive. She had a solid work ethic and a strong commitment to her clients and the seniors. She had friends who would help her, but most of all, she had faith that somehow, someway, God just might lead her past the door that had just closed and open a new one for her, just as He had always done in the past.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Barbara and Ginger offered much more than friendship when Judy told them about possibly losing her job and her dream of buying Pretty Ladies once Ann retired.

  They sat with Judy around her kitchen table in mid-November on a Thursday night. Her two friends did not wear long, black robes like justices in a courtroom or blank, impartial expressions like members of a jury. Judy knew, however, that she could count on both of them to listen objectively, offer critical scrutiny and tell her honestly if her plan of action to buy the salon was more likely to succeed than to fail.

  From her seat at the head of the table, Judy spread a number of papers out in front of her, handed a folder marked with her friends’ names to each of them, and hit the table with the side of her fist. “The meeting is now officially called to order.”

  Ginger giggled, tried to put a serious expression on her face and giggled again. “Sorry. You just seem so…formal and so in…control.”

  “I’m glad you think so. My legs are so weak I couldn’t stand up if I tried, and there are so many butterflies in my stomach I’m nauseous,” Judy admitted. “A couple of weeks ago, if you had told me I’d be sitting here with both of you to go over a plan to buy Pretty Ladies, I would have told you that you were out of your minds. I’m not sure I believe it now, even after we’ve all spent every spare moment gathering all this information.”

  Barbara peeked into her folder. “I can’t wait to see how all the pieces fit together. Let’s get started, shall we?”

  “Sure, but before we look at all the figures, I want to give you a brief outline of what I could do, maybe, to buy Pretty Ladies and operate the salon on my own. There’s no real need to panic, though. Ann’s not planning to retire until June. Maybe a little later, if I need the time to work things out.”

  “You have our full attention,” Ginger promised.

  Judy took a deep breath, but her excitement kept her heart racing. “Okay, here we go. First, I have at least twenty-five years of experience more than I need to get an operator’s license. I got all the information from the state, along with the application. The fee is nominal and the process shouldn’t take more than a few weeks.”

  “So far so good,” Barbara noted.

  “Actually, Ann helped me a lot. Now second. Doris Blake came out like you asked, Ginger, and looked at my house. I haven’t liked all the changes in Welleswood in the past few years, but I certainly can’t argue with the amazing rise in property values. Added to the fact that I own the house free and clear, I have enough equity to be able to make a substantial down payment for the building and the business. Ann has agreed to carry the rest as a ten-year mortgage I would pay directly to her.”

  Barbara’s eyes widened. “Are you willing to do that? Put your house at risk for the sake of owning Pretty Ladies?”

  “I’m not sure, but I think so. That’s why I wanted both of you here—to help me decide if my plan would work and if I should take the risk. But before you do, I just need to tell you the rest. Then after you look at the facts and figures in the folders, we’ll talk.”

  With Ginger’s and Barbara’s approval, Judy continued. “Now, if I did go ahead with the loans, assuming the bank agrees to a home equity loan, I’d need to update the record-keeping and get a computer. Thanks for calling the women at the county offices and getting all the booklets for me, Barbara. It looks like I’m eligible for free computer training, which starts in January. I might even qualify for a government loan, but I’d rather not get any deeper in debt than I have to. Tell John I really appreciate all the work he did reviewing Ann’s books and making sure I wasn’t buying into a business that wouldn’t return a good value for my investment.”

  Barbara chuckled. “No problem. He’ll be glad to hear you’re planning to go modern and use a computer. He said going through Ann’s account books was like traveling back to the dinosaur age.”

  “To be honest, I’m not entirely convinced I can do this.” Judy shuddered. “Technology is scary. Buying the business is even scarier, but looking for another job right now and competing with all those younger women to build up a new client base in a new shop where I’d get the worst hours, including Sunday and most nights until eight or nine o’clock, is terrifying.”

  “Let’s look at what’s in the folders,” Ginger suggested.

  Judy knew every item and every figure and every paper in the folders by heart. As she watched Barbara and Ginger read through the material in their folders, she felt the same way she had when she had been in school and watched the teacher grade her test paper in front of her. Her stomach rolled over and over. Her mouth went dry. Her palms began to sweat.

  Barbara finished first, gave Judy a wink and waited for Ginger to close her folder, too.

  “I’m probably the last person you should depend on to look over financial papers,” Ginger admitted, “but the numbers seem reasonable and the business plan looks okay. I didn’t see anything that set off alarm bells, did you, Barbara?”

  “Not really. I think John may have underestimated the income projections, based on what the salon’s done in the past, but that’s probably wise. He’s the CPA, not me.”

  “I’d rather be surprised by earning more than I plan for, although it’s still going to be tight for a few years,” Judy suggested.

  “Which brings us back to the reason we’re both here,” Ginger noted. She folded her hands on top of her folder and toyed with several of the bangle bracelets with her thumb. “In the short term, there’s no guarantee that you’ll make enough money to support yourself and Brian, although it’s likely. It’s the long term that bothers me. Tyler and I have only been living here for five years. We’ve only seen Welleswood as it is now, a thriving community. But you’ve both lived here all your lives. You remember what it was like not that many years ago.”

  Barbara met Judy’s gaze and nodded. “That’s a good point, but like Judy, I’ve lived here long enough to have seen the businesses on the avenue in Welleswood peak, die and peak again. I would imagine that’s a cycle bound to be repeated over and over.”

  Judy’s balloon of hope shriveled a bit. “From what I’ve seen over the years, I’d have to agree with Barbara, with one exception. Some of the businesses on the avenue did go under. Others moved to other locations in other communities to stay in business, but Pretty Ladies never did. Neither did the real estate office or the bank or the hardware store, for that matter.”

  “Why is that?” Ginger asked. “Why did some b
usinesses like Pretty Ladies last through the lean years when so many others didn’t?”

  Barbara shook her head. “We know they stayed open, but we don’t know how well they did or how many of them had enough capital to sustain losses until business picked up.”

  “I can’t answer for the other businesses, but I think I know why Pretty Ladies not only stayed open, but remained profitable, even through the lean years.”

  Ginger and Barbara both leaned forward.

  “It’s hard to explain to anyone outside of the hair business,” Judy offered, “but…I’ve never considered being a hairdresser just an ordinary occupation. Neither has Ann, which is the main reason, other than our friendship, that I suspect she’s been so good about agreeing to hold part of the mortgage herself. And I think it’s true for other hair-dressers, too, at least the old-timers like Ann and me.”

  She paused to moisten her lips. Since she had prayed with Barbara and knew they shared a common faith in God, she risked sharing her philosophy with them. “I hope I don’t sound egotistical or pretentious, but to me, hairdressing is a calling. It’s almost like a ministry. When people come to a salon like Pretty Ladies, they want more than a haircut or a permanent or a coloring. They want someone to listen, someone to care.”

  After clearing her throat, she continued. “My clients aren’t shy about revealing their most intimate thoughts or troubles because they trust me not to judge them or to spread gossip. When they leave, they take a peek in the mirror and feel good about how they look on the outside, but it’s how good they feel on the inside that really makes them smile.”

  Ginger dropped her gaze.

  Barbara’s eyes misted with tears. “That’s why you’re willing to take the risk and buy the salon?”

  “Yes, I—I think I should. Most of the clients who come to the salon can’t afford to go to the other new salon. The seniors at the Towers either need me or like me to come to them, and they’re even less able to pay any more than they do now. If Pretty Ladies closes for good or a new owner comes in and transforms the shop to compete with the other two, then an awful lot of women will be left without anywhere else to go. I can’t let that happen, and with God’s help and friends like you to stick by me, it won’t happen.”