The Ladies' Room

by Carolyn Brown

  Dead silence on the other end of the phone line.

  "Are you still there, Marty?"

  "What are you talking about?"

  "He might not be too choosy, especially if the affair with Charity goes south. And it will. She'll get tired of him. Maybe you can make him some hot chicken salad, and he'll buy you a new car. I think you have to be about Crystal's age to get a Thunderbird, but then, I might be wrong"

  Nothing felt better than listening to her gasp when I hung up the phone.

  They've been talking about you," Momma whispered when I stopped at the nursing home on my way to Durant the next morning. I'd slept poorly. Different house. Different bed. I needed it to be a good day with Momma.

  "Who has?" I asked.

  "You know who. They said you moved into Gert's house. She's dead, you know. She won't be there to keep you company."

  "I know, Momma. I went to her funeral yesterday, and she left me the house. I'm going to remodel it and live there." --- -- - - --- - - -- -- - -

  We were sitting in the little garden behind the nursing home. A dove flew up, alit on the low branches of a tree, and cocked its gray head toward us. The thermometer on the side of the porch post that morning had read eighty-five degrees, and the weatherman had said it would be in the high nineties before the day was finished. A soft, warm breeze flowed through the garden, and Momma lifted her head to catch the sun's rays. She still had a lovely complexion, and the home's beautician kept her hair dyed the same shade of dark brown that she'd had when she was a young woman. Her eyes were the same shade as Crystal's, that lovely summer sky blue. She was a perfect size four before she married Daddy, and she'd maintained that size all her life.

  When she brought her chin down, her eyes had gone blank. Past, present, and future would be mixed up together as if she'd tossed them into a blender and pushed the puree button. She whispered, "Gert should have known better than to marry that Lonnie. Forty is too old to be a bride, and him ten years younger. He wants her money, but she's a smart girl, that Gert is."

  "Nice warm morning," Lessie said as she sat down in a chair next to Momma. Her back was as straight as it had been when she was fifteen, and her hair boasted very little gray.

  Momma smiled at Lessie. "It is, isn't it? Did you know that Gert died and left Trudy her house? Trudy was married at one time, but her husband died. She keeps a lock on his bedroom door. I never figured out why, but she does"

  Lessie sat down beside Momma and winked at me. "Yes, I was sorry that Gert died. Marty also told us you've moved into her house."

  "Marty was here?" I was amazed.

  Lessie nodded. "Last night. Came to see about a job. This place needs an activities director. Someone to fix up a party once a month and to help us old codgers paint flowerpots. Your mother and I were sitting in the lounge watching a rerun of The Golden Girls. That one where Blanche's daddy dies and she gets crossways with her sister and won't go to the funeral. Marty stopped and visited for a minute on her way out. I think she was too late. They hired someone yesterday morning."

  Lessie's mind was still good, but she had diabetes, congestive heart failure, arthritis, and a whole host of other physical problems. Momma's little body was in perfect shape, but Alzheimer's had robbed her of her mind.

  "Blanche was sorry she didn't go to Big Daddy's funeral. I'm sorry I didn't go to Drew's funeral, but I never liked that man. I might have spit in his dead face," Momma said seriously.

  "Momma, you always loved Drew," I reminded her.

  "I'm a good pretender." She shot me a puzzled look. "Who are you? I'm waiting for Trudy. She'll be home from school for lunch soon. I'm making her grilled cheese sandwiches and real fried potatoes" She turned to Lessie. "Are you the new maid? If you are, then be sure and clean the toilet better than you did last week"

  Lessie took her arm. "Yes, ma'am, I am the new maid. You come on with me, and we'll go look at that toilet right now." She whispered to me, "I'll get her back to her room. Tomorrow-might be a better day."

  "I hope so," I said.

  "Glad to hear you're going to live in Gert's house. There ain't no use in talkin' about the reason you made that decision. Just get on with your life. You're still young and pretty."

  At ninety plus, Lessie would probably classify any almostforty-year-old woman as young and pretty, but I appreciated the compliment.

  I hit a button that opened the back door into the activities and physical therapy room, and we all three filed into the nursing home. Lessie and Momma slowly made their way across the room and down the hall to the right. I went on through the visitors' lounge and punched in the code to open the front door, only to find that the code had been changed. A nurse's aide came along and poked in the right numbers to let me out.

  While she pushed the buttons, I checked my reflection in the door glass. I hardly recognized the woman looking back at me. She wore Aunt Gert's jeans rolled up at the hems and a T-shirt with a sequined butterfly across the chest. A few sequins had long since flown away in the Oklahoma wind, but several hanging threads gave testimony to the fact that they'd once sparkled there. Her long brown hair was tied back in a ponytail at the nape of her neck with a red silk scarf, and her green eyes looked tired. I rather liked the new, strange woman in the glass, even with the tired eyes, but it wasn't any wonder that Momma hadn't recognized me.

  "Thank you," I told the aide.

  She smiled. "You're welcome. Your mother is a sweetheart. I love her style."

  "I just wish she had more good days"

  "Even when she doesn't know any of us, she still looks like a fashion queen. You do well keeping her all dolled up," she said.

  I could have hugged the woman. "Thank you for noticing. You have a nice day."

  "You too," she said as the door closed between us.

  When I opened the car, a blast of heat hit me in the face, blowing strands of hair to stick to my cheeks and forehead. It didn't take long to get the engine going, the air conditioner running full speed, and to decide that I was cutting my hair. The only reason I had kept it long was for Drew.

  I drove through Milburn, Emit, and Nida, which was basically a church and a few scattered homes. Then it was on to Durant. The idea of stopping to talk to Crystal about her decision to get married on the sly did cross my mind, but I had a war to fight with her father, and I couldn't do battle on two fronts at once.

  When I arrived at Walmart, there was no waiting line in the beauty shop. I waltzed in, hopped up into a chair, and pointed to a picture on the wall of a young girl with too much eye shadow and bright red lipstick. She wore black leather and looked like a rock star. "I want it all cut off like that."

  The hairdresser flipped a plastic cape around my shoulders. "Are you sure?"

  "Absolutely. Only don't leave so much on the sides. Cut it above my ears. I want to be able to wash it and go. I'm sick of straightening irons and blow-dryers."

  ..You have a lot of curl for that cut. It's going to kink up all over your head"

  "And I'm going to love it. I wore it like that in high school."

  She removed the red silk scarf and brushed out a tangled mess of long, frizzy curls. "Why did you let it grow long?"

  "Because my husband liked long hair."

  She giggled. "Fighting with him, are you?"

  "No, but I'm going to be very soon"

  I flinched when she gathered up my long hair and laid the scissors to it.

  "Want to change your mind?"

  "No. Cut it off."

  In twenty minutes it was short and kinky. My head felt lighter than it had in years. Too bad my heart was still a heavy chunk of rock in my chest. I paid the woman and added a tip, found a shopping cart, and was headed toward the clothing section when I heard my daughter's voice.

  "Mother, what have you done?" Crystal gasped.

  "I had my hair cut. What do you think?"

  "Daddy is going to have a fit. He hates your hair short. That's why your senior picture isn't hanging in the hallway.
I'm not coming home to visit you two until you grow it out again"

  The battle had arrived whether I was ready or not. It was either fight or slink into a corner, and I was tired of that business. "Too bad, then. I'm keeping it this way forever."

  Her nose wrinkled up in disgust. "And your clothes? You look like Aunt Gert"

  "That's because these used to belong to Aunt Gert. I missed you at the funeral yesterday."

  My daughter wore a cute little pair of jean shorts, a Vegas T-shirt, and fancy sandals, and she carried a purse that likely would have cost half of my teacher's-aide paycheck. Her light brown hair had been recently cut and highlighted with blond streaks.

  "Was that yesterday? I wouldn't have come even if I'd remembered. I hate funerals. But why are you wearing her clothes?"

  "You got time to have lunch with me? I'll tell you all about it." When opportunity knocks, you don't leave it standing on the doorstep. You invite it in and feed it chocolate cake. That's what Aunt Gert used to say.

  She blushed. "No, I've got ... Actually, I'm just picking up some shampoo and conditioner and..

  "Oh, don't get your panties into a wad. I know you and Jonah went to Vegas and got married. I don't like it, but evidently my opinion doesn't matter."

  She tilted her head up and looked down her aristocratic nose at me. "I can't have this conversation now."

  "Me, either. I've got underwear to buy. I'm at Aunt Gert'sno, I can't say that anymore. I'm at my house, but it's still listed under Gertrude Martin in the phone book. Call that number if you need me "" I pushed my cart around her.

  She grabbed the cart and glared at me, those pretty blue eyes flashing enough anger to light up the whole Walmart store. "You're going to tell me right now what is going on!"

  I gave the cart a jerk. "I'm not having this conversation here. If you want to talk, you can come to lunch with me. Otherwise, run along and buy your shampoo. We'll discuss it another day."

  I left her digging in her purse for her cell phone, no doubt to call her father, but right then she could have been tattling to Saint Peter and I wouldn't have cared. On my way to buy underwear, I passed the window air conditioners, hauled the cheapest one down off the shelf, and set it into my cart. I'd be cool in the guest bedroom at night until central heat and airconditioning was installed. Billy Lee would most likely tell me the whole place had to be rewired before we could think about something that luxurious.

  Cato's dress shop was located next to Walmart. A few minutes in there netted me a couple of dresses to wear to church: a bright red one with a parrot embroidered on the hem and across the back of the jacket, and a more subdued canary yellow with a Hawaiian-print, short-sleeved jacket. No more black silk for this girl. Lessie had said I was young and pretty. Besides, look what expensive black suits had gotten me: a husband who cheated with girls who wore bright colors.

  I bought red leather slides with kitten heels and a pair of cute little flats in hot pink that matched a flower in the Hawaiian print. I wasn't slinking into church the next day. The old Trudy had died in the church bathroom. She was now a new woman who didn't need to be "poor" anymore or have her heart blessed, either. That's when I saw a beautiful hot pink hat. It would provide the crowning glory to my new outfit, so I bought it too.

  I wouldn't have noticed the rack of Capri-length bibbed overalls if there hadn't been a line at the checkout counter. I found two pair in size sixteen and grabbed a couple of sleeveless tank tops to wear under them, one orange and one turquoise.

  It was two o'clock when I got back to Tishomingo, and I hadn't had anything to eat since breakfast. I whipped into the SONIC and ordered a foot-long hot dog with chili and cheese and a side order of Tater Tots. I rolled down the windows and ate in the car rather than taking the food home.

  When I pulled up under the carport in the backyard, Billy Lee was coming through the opening in the hedge with a notebook in his hands. I took a long look at the house and seriously contemplated buying a box of dynamite, blasting the place, and letting it rain pieces all over town. Then I'd cash in all those assets Aunt Gert had left me and disappear off to a beach with white sand and no cellular service. That way I wouldn't have to have a conversation with Drew, Crystal, my cousins, or Billy Lee.

  "Hey." Billy Lee's pale blue eyes lit up.

  He stopped beside the car and flipped open his notebook on the hood. "So, you ready to see my ideas?"

  "I guess I am" I looked at the air conditioner in the backseat and longed for a cool breeze. The wind blows constantly in Oklahoma until the first day of June, and then a body can't buy, borrow, or steal a gust of it until after Labor Day. That's because it's so hot in June, July, and August that any amount of wind would cook the flesh off our bones. Daddy used to say that even the lizards carried canteens over one shoulder and a machine gun over the other during the summer months. The machine gun was to take out anyone who looked sideways at the water jugs.

  Billy Lee nodded toward the house as he pointed to his drawings. "The way I see it is that we have someone come in first and redo all the windows. They're older than Methuselah, and we need central heat and air. All that bought air will escape out those old wooden sashes. I've got some estimates here on new ones that open to the inside for easy cleaning and will still keep the look of the house"

  He already had that "we" business down pat. I forgot all about dynamite when he flipped a few pages and showed me a before-and-after picture in a brochure of a house where that kind of windows had been installed. He had my undivided attention after that.

  "While the window people are here, the electricians can be rewiring the whole place and getting it ready for airconditioning. I see you've got one of those little units in your backseat. Guess that's for your bedroom. You'll have to run an extension cord from the outlet attached to the light fixture in the ceiling, since there are no plugs on the walls in any of the upstairs rooms. Gert had one put in the kitchen so she could hook up a microwave. The rest of the house is wired only for lighting."

  "Good grief!" I was glad I'd had my hair cut. I would have had to unplug the microwave every morning to plug in my hair straightener.

  "If you'll trust me to get the ball rolling, I can probably get things started on Monday morning."

  "Fine," I agreed.

  With one word I had just put my trust in Billy Lee-after I'd vowed never to trust another man for anything.

  "While they're working on that, I'll start rebuilding the front porch. It's a wonder Gert didn't fall through those rotten boards. And all the gingerbread around the eaves and dormers needs to be removed and stripped of all that nasty peeling paint and refinished. You'll need to decide what colors you want to use on the house and the trim while I get it ready to paint. Hopefully we'll get all that done by fall, and then we'll begin on the inside. That'll give you lots of time to clean it out. By the way, why are you living here without your husband?"

  "I want the house a soft yellow and all the trim white like it was in the beginning. I want to take out the wall between the living room and dining room and make it airy and light. I want a new bathroom upstairs, so we will need a plumber, and I want a bathroom put in downstairs. Part of the back porch off the kitchen can be turned into a bathroom, can't it? And I'm divorcing my husband, Billy Lee"

  "Sorry if I stepped on sore toes. You sure you want to move in here?"

  "Very, very sure."

  "Want me to carry that air conditioner upstairs and get it running for you?"

  I could have kissed the man right between his pretty blue eyes. Billy Lee had simply accepted my decision and moved on. And everyone thought he was an odd duck!

  He picked up the air conditioner box as if it was a feather pillow and started into the house. "Tomorrow is church. Shall we begin the work the next day?"

  I carried my other bags and opened the door for him. "I'd like that"

  He found a long brown extension cord in a kitchen drawer, laid it on top of the air conditioner box, carried both upstairs, and plugg
ed the cord into an apparatus with a plug on each side that was screwed into the lightbulb socket. He weaved the cord around the end of the iron bedstead, under the throw rug on the hardwood floor, and over to the window. In minutes cool air blew into the room.

  "Keep the door shut, and this room will cool down by bedtime. I've got a rack of ribs smoking for supper. Dinner at six?"

  My expression must have been scary, odd, or plain crazy, because he threw up his hands in defense. "What's the matter? Did I say something wrong? Do you hate ribs? I used to bring Gert food all the time."

  Evidently I'd taken Gert's place in the scheme of things. As the wife of a small-town lawyer I'd been at the top of the social ladder, but now I was on the same level as crazy old Aunt Gert. That deflated my ego as much as the news in the ladies' room had.

  "No, Billy Lee, you didn't say anything wrong. I'd love to have ribs for supper. Thank you"

  "Good. I'll go on home and check on them. They're in the smoker. I'll be here at six, then?"

  I nodded.

  He closed the door behind him.

  I plopped down onto the bed and enjoyed the wonderful cold air flowing over my body. After a while, I flipped over onto my stomach. That's when I saw the old wooden jewelry box sitting on the nightstand. I rolled off the bed and picked it up. It was heavy enough that it could have been holding gold nuggets, and after my bank trip nothing would surprise me. I opened it carefully. It was brimful of gorgeous jewelry that I'd never seen Gert wear and that sure hadn't come from a dollar store.

  I picked up a brooch shaped like a daisy with a long golden stem. The petals were white elongated opals, the center a lovely golden topaz of at least three carats. I flipped it over to find a date written on a tiny piece of masking tape attached to the back. June 3, 1958. That would have been a year after she'd married Uncle Lonnie. Why hadn't she ever worn this lovely piece?

  A beautiful, heart-shaped pendant was the next thing I pulled out. The diamonds around its outer edge sparkled in the light. The single dangling diamond in the middle was a carat or maybe more. It was dated August 1959. Uncle Lonnie had died the year Drew and I married, and there was a piece for every year up until then.