by Dixie Cash
nineteen
By late afternoon Debbie Sue and Edwina had viewed, read, and printed all the responses to the personal ads from the two dating sites. On the manicure table they had made three stacks labeled COULD BE, COULDN’T POSSIBLY BE, and HELL NO.
The COULD BEs fell into the right age bracket and their pictures bore some similarities to the mystery woman’s picture supplied by Quint. None was an exact match, though one in particular came close. Quint was the only person who could make that call.
The COULDN’T POSSIBLY BEs were from Texas, but that was as far as their qualifications went.
The HELL NO bunch apparently didn’t care about the seeker’s desires. All were over forty, overdue a make over, and, judging by the photos they had submitted with their replies, overly fond of their near-naked bodies.
“This is disgusting.” Edwina stood up and stretched her back. “I’m glad I’m not single anymore. I don’t think I could get into this Internet dating. I’d miss the old days and ways too much.”
Debbie Sue, too, was feeling the pressure of sitting in one place too long. She rubbed her eyes as she bent side to side from the waist. “And the old ways would be?”
“Oh, you know. Walk into a bar, check out the men, point to one, and take him home. It was a lot more fun that way.”
“And so much safer.” After Debbie Sue and Buddy divorced, she had spent her share of time and two-stepped a million miles in raunchy West Texas honky-tonks, but she had always been afraid of the “pick up men in a bar” routine.
“Nothing safe is ever fun. Didn’t your mama ever tell you that?” Edwina unwrapped a Tootsie Pop and stuck it into her mouth.
“Nope, my mama told me a lot of things, but never that.”
The front door opened with a jangle and Allison struggled through it carrying a big flat box. “I’m a little early. I brought cookies and I’ve got a party tray out in the car.”
She left the box on the payout counter and went outside. Edwina lifted the lid. “Oh, look. Turkeys and Pilgrims. I always wanted to nibble on a Pilgrim.” She cackled as she picked out a cookie with thick orange frosting and a sugar portrait of a Pilgrim’s face.
Allison returned carrying a round foil tray covered in plastic wrap. Debbie Sue studied the assortment of vegetables, meats, and cheeses. “Good grief, Allison, this is enough food for an army. I know Maudeen said she’s expecting over thirty people, but I’ll be surprised if there’s ten. Is your mom coming?”
“No. She and Frank took Jill to the cutting-horse show in Abilene, so I’m all alone.”
“Ow, ow,” Edwina said, stretching her torso again. “I don’t know how people can sit in front of a computer all day long and not lose their minds.”
“What are you doing in front of a computer all day?” Allison asked.
“Debbie Sue and I’ve been doing some Equalizer work. We’re looking for—”
“Say,” Debbie Sue interrupted, “you’re the last customer today, Allison. How about we get primed for the party with a pitcher of margaritas?”
“That sounds so good.”
“Now you’re talking,” Edwina said. “If it wasn’t for Vic and tequila, I don’t know if life would be worth living.” She started for the storeroom.
“Ed, don’t talk like that,” Allison said, stopping her. “Stop and think about it. You’ve got plenty to live for.”
“Yeah,” Debbie Sue added. “Did you tell Allison your big news?”
Allison looked at Edwina with a questioning expression.
Edwina’s red lips tipped up in a huge grin. “I’m gonna be a grandma. My first. Me, a grandma. That’s a hoot, isn’t it?”
“That’s great,” Allison said. “I think you’ll be the best. Congratulations. Are you planning on buying the baby something tonight?”
“I guess so. I haven’t bought toys in over twenty years. I wonder if they still make Betsy Wetsy.”
Before either of the two women could answer, the sleigh bells jangled again and in walked Quint. Debbie Sue shot a glance at Allison.
“Evening, ladies,” Quint said. “Hope I’m not breaking up—” He stopped talking when he saw Allison and lifted off his hat. He started toward where she sat in one of the styling chairs.
“My Lord, sweet cheeks,” Edwina said, whacking him on the shoulder and looking him up and down. “You rub my fur the wrong way at times, but I’ll say one thing for you. Wrangler’s stock price must jump every time you put on a pair of jeans. We’re just about to have margaritas. Care for one?”
Quint raised a palm in protest. “None of that tequila for me. I might have a cold beer if you’ve got it.”
“I think we can find one in the back of the refrigerator,” Debbie Sue said. “By the way, those job applicants you asked us to do a background check on are stacked on that little table if you want to take a look.” She gave him her best arched brows and tilted her head toward the manicure table.
“What? Ohhh, oh yeah. The résumés I asked you to do a background check on. I’d almost forgotten. Thanks. I’ll take a look while you’re in the back.”
Debbie Sue got to her feet and started for the storeroom. “Come with me, Ed.”
“Not on your life,” Edwina replied.
“Ed,” Debbie Sue said firmly, grasping Edwina’s upper arm. “Come with me.” She dragged her along to the storeroom.
Allison was left alone with Quint as the two women disappeared behind the curtained doorway. Of all the people she might expect to walk into the Styling Station, Quint wasn’t one of them. An uncomfortable silence ensued.
“I called you Wednesday and spoke to your mom,” he said. “Nice lady.”
“She told me. You didn’t leave a number, so I called the one on caller ID. Didn’t Tag mention it to you?”
“Tag? Why would he?”
“Because the number was actually his. Y’all had each other’s phones for a while. I didn’t know that until I called and he answered.”
Quint’s chin lifted as a knowing look swept across his face. He chuckled. “We were getting each other’s calls for a while.”
Allison searched madly for something to say. A tiny guilt at the way she had spent the afternoon pinched her. “Debbie Sue and Edwina are helping you screen applicants? What kind of job opening do you have?”
“It’s, uh—it’s in my office in Seguin. Bookkeeper. Last two or three haven’t worked out, so I decided to get some help looking for somebody to hire.”
“Did you use the Internet to look for applicants or just to check their backgrounds?”
“Both.” He leaned toward her and cupped her chin in his hand. “You know, I’ve had pretty good luck looking for other things on the Internet lately. Thought I’d give it a try again.”
Allison knew that line had to be meant to hit home with her, and it did. She felt her cheeks heat up. “I, uh, did quite a bit of interviewing for the doctor’s office when I worked in Haskell. I’m a pretty good judge of character. Even if it’s only on paper. Mind if I look at them?” She reached for the small sheaf of papers that had obviously just been printed off the computer.
Quint moved like lightning. Before she could touch a page, he scooped the papers up and held them close to his chest. “I wouldn’t think of imposing on you like that. You girls have some plans for this evening and I’m butting in. Tell Debbie Sue I’m taking these with me and I’ll get back to her later.”
Arms full of loose papers, he started for the door.
“Let me get the door for you,” Allison said.
Before she could open the door, Debbie Sue and Edwina returned, carrying margaritas and a Lone Star beer.
“Hey, cowboy,” Edwina said, giving him a jab with her elbow. “Where do you think you’re sneaking off to?”
Quint lost control of the papers and they slid from his arms to the floor.
“Oh, my goodness, let me help you.” Allison squatted and began to pick up the scattered sheets of paper.
Quint squatted, too,
and began to scoop up the papers in a disorganized pile. “That’s not necessary. I’ve got it.” He took Allison by the elbow and lifted her to her feet.
She glanced at the pages in her hand, at one picture of a scantily dressed woman with a come-hither expression and an explicit written message. She looked up at Quint in puzzlement. “I think this woman’s looking for more than a job.”
She fanned through a couple more pages, scanning the narratives accompanying each picture, struck by the revelation that Quint was still looking for someone. “These are personal ads.” She leafed through more pages, aghast. “They’re all personal ads.”
The old feelings of inadequacy and self-doubt crept up her spine, into her brain. He was dissatisfied with her. All this time he had been courting her, he had continued to look for someone else. She felt like a fool. “I’m, uh—I’m so sorry. I had no right to read those. It’s really none of my business.” Avoiding Quint’s eyes, she handed him the pages.
Quint’s gaze darted between Debbie Sue and Edwina. In the thick silence, no one offered an explanation.
“Oh, hell, Allison,” he finally said. “You’re right. These are personal ads. I didn’t tell you about my business here in Salt Lick because I didn’t want to admit that I’ve been made a fool of again. I don’t like what that says about me.” He went into a long-winded tale of the identity theft for Allison. He even went all the way back to the fiasco with Eugene/Janine.
“So that’s it. The whole unvarnished truth,” he said in conclusion. “I asked Debbie Sue not to tell you, or anybody, what they’re doing for me.”
Allison was moved by the soul-baring disclosure. What he had been through could have happened to anyone. Why, she and Jill were guilty of carrying on a ruse themselves, pretending she had been the one communicating with him instead of her twelve-year-old. She was overcome with sympathy, a good mea sure of guilt, and a little regret. For a second she contemplated telling him the truth about Jill’s real role in their Internet meeting, but changed her mind. The poor guy had been deceived enough. She didn’t want to add to his humiliation.
She moved closer to him and placed her hand on his forearm. “Please don’t be embarrassed,” she said softly. “Anyone can have the wool pulled over their eyes. Sit down and go through these pages with Debbie Sue and Edwina. The party doesn’t start for two hours. I’ll just sit on the other side of the room and drink my margarita.”
Quint looked up at her. “Thanks, babe. I’ll do that. But as long as you know what we’re up to, you can help if you like.”
As they perused the printed pages Edwina kept the margarita glasses filled. Quint had two more beers. The categorized responses had been jumbled together when Quint dropped them on the floor and each one had to be reexamined to match the picture with the profile.
“Here’s a good one,” Quint said, waving a page in the air. Leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, he read, “‘I want to pour cake batter on your belly, and by the time we’re finished, I promise you the cake will be done.’ Whoa! Now that’s a keeper.”
“Stop it, Quint,” Debbie Sue said, struggling to hold back a giggle. “These women are serious.”
“I know that. But c’mon. Cake batter on my belly?”
Edwina appeared to be in deep thought. She pressed a finger against her cheek. “I wonder how that would work.” Everyone hooted.
Debbie Sue rose, laid the pages on her salon chair, and took the drinks from Edwina’s, Allison’s, and Quint’s hands. “Listen, y’all, we’ve got to get this place cleaned up. Maudeen and her group of li’l old ladies will be here soon. We don’t want them to catch us whooping it up.”
“Can I help?” Allison asked, hoping they would say no. Her eyes were almost crossed from the combination of the strong margaritas and studying the printed pages.
“Nope,” Edwina said. “You stay right where you are. We’ll get this joint shaped up in a matter of seconds. Wonder Woman’s got nothing on us.” She and Debbie Sue gathered the empty glasses and disappeared behind the curtained doorway again.
Allison laughed. These two were just what she had needed tonight and she was seeing a different side of Quint. Leaning over, she picked up the last couple of pages Debbie Sue had laid on the chair. “Why, good Lord,” she exclaimed, stunned. “I can’t believe this. I know this person.”
Quint’s eyes were trained on her. “You’re kidding.”
“No. I’m not kidding.”
“Is it somebody from this town?”
“From Haskell. A girl I knew years ago. What are the odds? We were friends when we were kids. But we had a falling-out. She stole my boyfriend and I thought my world had ended. Monica. Monica Hunter.” A frown tugged at her brow. “As I recall, she was never short of boyfriends. I wonder why she’s looking on the Internet.”
In an instant, Quint was out of his chair and leaning over her shoulder. “Lemme see?” He took the page from her hands and stood there staring at it. His facial expression and his body seemed to wilt right before her eyes.
“Quint? Are you all right? Is that her? Is that the woman? Have we found her?”
“It isn’t her,” he said, still looking at the printed page. “I thought maybe it could be. The person I’m looking for is also named Monica. The Monica I’m looking for is prettier than this.”
“Lord, I can’t imagine,” Allison said. “She was the prettiest girl in town. In the county. Maybe in all of Texas.”
Quint handed the photo back. “Sounds like you knew her pretty well.”
“Only her entire life. I can’t get over this. It’s quite a shock seeing her in this venue.” As she stared at the picture of the beautiful girl she had known for so many years, her chin quivered and she bit her lip to control tears. Liquor always made her overemotional and talkative. “A dozen times I’ve thought about getting in touch with her. Patch things up, you know? The boyfriend is long gone and the world didn’t end, but Monica and I are still estranged.” She looked up at Quint. “She hasn’t left Haskell either. The last I heard, she works at the court house and rents a house from the doctor I used to work for. I really should call her.”
“Know what?”
“What?” Allison attempted to prop her elbow on the chair arm and almost tipped from the chair face-first.
Quint caught her arm. “Hey, you okay?”
She straightened and gave him a blurry stare. “I think so.”
“Look,” he said. “I’m gonna go and let you gals get on with your little party. Thanks for your help. Tell Debbie Sue I took all the material with me and I’ll check back with her tomorrow.”
“Okay. I’m sorry you didn’t find the girl. Don’t you worry, though. What goes around goes—” She stopped and frowned. “Phooey. I can’t remember the rest of that.” She shook her head, setting off a roar in her ears. “That’s funny.”
Quint bent and kissed the top of her head. “See you later. You better cool it with the tequila.”
He opened the door and a woman who had to be ninety tottered through, carrying a platter of cookies. To Allison’s shock, she also had a gallon jug of vodka hooked on one finger and a two-liter bottle of 7-Up tucked under her arm.
The little old lady looked up at Quint. “Hey, cowboy. You staying for the party?”
Quint lifted off his hat, shifting his armload of papers, and offered a hand to help her.
“Grab this jug,” she ordered. “It’s about to break my finger. I’d hate to see half a gallon of vodka kiss the pavement.” She looked at Allison through thick lenses that magnified her eyes. “Hi, honey. I’m Maudeen Wiley. I live at the Peaceful Oasis. You staying for the party?”
Good grief. Wasn’t this woman too old to drink? “Uh, yes. Yes, I am.”
Quint gingerly took the bottle from her and sat it on the payout counter. He gave Allison a dazzling smile and a wink, touched his hat brim, and walked out.
Maudeen looked after Quint as the door closed on him. “My, my,” she said, lightly sl
apping her wrinkled cheek. “Now that’s a good-looking man. I’ve seen him in here before. Nice package, too. I do love the sight of a good-looking man in tight jeans.”
Nice package? Slack-jawed, Allison stared at the little old lady’s flaming red hair and crepey skin, trying to guess her age. This woman was hosting a toy party?
twenty
Following Edwina from the storeroom, Debbie Sue saw Maudeen. Another half a dozen women had come into the front room. The door opened and still more came in, laughing and giggling. Soon the salon’s front room was packed with at least twenty women who, Debbie Sue, Edwina, and Allison agreed, were new faces. A few of the others, Debbie Sue noticed, were Salt Lick residents and Styling Station customers she and Edwina had invited.
Last to arrive was Charlene Elkins, wife of Salt Lick’s only auto mechanic. Where had she come from? She was a customer of the Styling Station’s competition. Charlene dragged in a large insulated cooler and a grocery sack filled with packages of styrofoam cups.
Not expecting so large a gathering, Debbie Sue looked at the group in horror. The Styling Station had only one bathroom. With the chair at the payout desk, the two hydraulic salon chairs, and the three padded seats attached to the dryers, plus the three folding chairs from the storeroom, she could supply only nine seats. “I’m surprised so many are here and that I know so few,” she said to Maudeen. “Where are all these women from?”
“Oh, they’re from all over the county, honey. And some came from over at Odessa. Most think it’s better if they buy toys out of town. I’ve been to lots of these parties. There’s always a good turnout. Jewel is the hostess. She’s a real live wire. All the girls love her. When she gets here things will get going.”
Why would someone prefer to go out of town to buy toys? Oh, well, Debbie Sue decided, what difference did it make? She searched her mind, trying to place this Jewel, but failed. “I must not have met Jewel.”
“Oh, she’s from Odessa, honey. This is her first party in Salt Lick.”
