As she waved goodbye to Noah, she decided it was time to pay her old best friend a visit. Johnny had said Marley’s thrift shop was near Martindale’s. That should be easy to find. As she walked past the various shops and stores, she noticed that a few spaces were vacant. Not as many as there had been the last time she’d walked through here—about five years ago. Hopefully the economy was picking up.
“Secondhand Rose,” she read the curly lettered sign out loud as she paused by the glass door. Marley’s middle name was Rose, and sometimes, when they were little girls and playing dress-up, Marley would go by Rose. Rita peered in the storefront window, where a stylish selection of romantic outfits was artistically displayed. She marveled at the enticing layers of lacy tops and floral scarves and velvet vests and flowing skirts and a variety of interesting accessories—all in complementary shades of pink, magenta, red, and lavender. Perfect for Valentine’s Day.
A bell jingled as she pushed the door open and stepped inside. At first glance, she could see the shop was charming. And if a person didn’t know, they would probably never even guess it was a thrift store. It even smelled nice…an exotic mixture of spice and floral tones, but not too heavy.
“Welcome,” a cheery voice called out from the back of the store.
Rita caught her breath as Marley emerged from behind the counter, smiling and looking retro-chic in a short burgundy dress with black textured stockings and tall boots. “Rita!” Marley’s dark brown eyes grew large in disbelief.
“Marley…” Rita felt a lump in her throat, wondering what she should do. Pretend to be shopping? Apologize? Make a run for it?
But before she could decide, Marley rushed toward her, threw her arms around Rita, and hugged her tightly. “Oh, Rita! I’ve missed you so much.”
“Me, too,” Rita said with a sob. “I’m so sorry, Marley. So sorry I said what I said back then. I was so stupid and immature and I was probably just jealous and—”
“Oh, hush!” Marley stopped her. “As it turned out, you were right.”
Rita frowned. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah…so am I.” Marley stepped back to look at Rita. “My elegant Beverly Hills friend has arrived.”
Rita touched her hair. “I sure don’t feel very elegant.”
“Well, you look beautiful.”
“So do you.” Rita fingered a strand of Marley’s long chestnut hair. “When did you grow this out?”
“Ages ago. In fact, I was just thinking it was time for a change.”
“I know where you can get a haircut real cheap.” Rita wrinkled her nose. “Although it appears they cater more to old ladies these days.”
“Your mom’s salon?” Marley gave her a sympathetic look. “How’s she doing anyway? I heard about her stroke. But Johnny said she’s making great improvements.”
Rita gave her an update as she perused a rack of sweaters. “Your shop is fabulous, Marley. I love it. So creative and well done. It looks like you.”
“Thanks. It’s been a fun project…a good distraction.”
Rita was pretty sure Marley was referring to Rex, but she didn’t want to push her. Not with their history. It was so good being with Marley again. No way was she going to jeopardize their friendship.
“How long are you in town?”
“I don’t really know. But I let my manager know I wanted two weeks.” Now Rita told Marley just how bad things were down in Hair and Now. “I don’t even know if there’s much I can do to help. But it needs help. That’s for certain.”
“Well, it probably didn’t help that Zinnia opened her salon.” Marley jerked her thumb over a shoulder. “Her place is right next door. Did you see it yet?”
“Not yet. But I wanted to take a peek. Unless that’s rude.” Rita considered this. “I don’t want to step on her toes. But I would like to spy a little.”
“It’s pretty nice,” Marley told her.
“I hear that Zinnia is pretty nice nowadays, too.” Rita looked curiously at Marley.
“Oh, yeah.” Marley nodded. “I remember how she used to be so snooty, like she thought she was so much older and cooler than us. But, really, she’s changed a lot.”
“I hear you’re good friends with her.”
“Good friends?” Marley’s mouth twisted to one side as if she wasn’t quite sure. “Who told you that?”
“Johnny. He gave me a ride from the airport. He made it sound like you and Zinnia were buddy-buddy—best friends.”
“Well, we are friends, that’s true. But best friends is a bit of a stretch. Maybe Johnny said that because he and Zinnia have been getting rather chummy.”
Rita was surprised, but tried not to show it. “Interesting.”
“Anyway, Zinnia is okay. Plus I’ve learned that it pays to be congenial with your business neighbors.”
“Very smart.” For some reason Rita felt relieved to know Zinnia hadn’t replaced Rita as Marley’s best friend. Not that Marley shouldn’t have a new best friend. But hopefully someone a bit more reliable than Zinnia. Marley continued showing Rita around her shop, chattering happily and trying to catch up on the past ten years. But when customers came in, Rita felt guilty for distracting Marley from her customers.
“We should go to dinner or something,” Rita said.
“Yes!” Marley exclaimed. “I can’t do it tonight. But I have my high school girls working here on Saturday. I could do lunch.” They exchanged phone numbers and worked out the details, then Rita continued on her way.
Zinnia’s salon was impossible to miss. The windows were draped with bright-colored paper flowers—probably they were supposed to be zinnias. The zinnia motif continued inside the salon. Huge blossoms in canary yellow, bright orange, turquoise blue, and fuchsia went from floor to ceiling in a dizzying array. The chairs at the style stations and shampoo area were the same shades as the flowers, and everything else—the cutting stations, chairs, and floor—was all white. Very striking.
“May I help you?” a young woman with black hair tipped with sky blue asked Rita, speaking loud to be heard above the music.
“I’m actually just looking, thanks.” Rita made a stiff smile.
“Looking?” The woman’s brow creased. “Oh, you mean for product.” She pointed to a tall, well-stocked shelf behind her. “It’s all right there.”
Rita nodded as she moved toward the product display. “Yes. Thanks.” As she stood there pretending to study the containers of what she knew was a less than stellar product line, she was actually peering through the open shelving into the relatively busy salon. At least it was busy compared to Hair and Now. It was bigger too, and although this salon had eight hair cutting stations, it clearly was not only about hair. Rita spied a large mani-pedi section, a makeup counter with three chairs, plus what appeared to be a tanning spray booth in back. Zinnia was certainly ambitious.
As Rita picked up a bottle of conditioner, still playing the shopper, she noticed Zinnia emerging from the back. If she hadn’t known this was Zinnia’s salon, she might not have even recognized her. Certainly, Zinnia was still petite and pretty in that pixie like way, but her hair, which used to be mousy brown and kinky, was now sleek and blond and long—very similar to how Rita wore her hair, but longer.
Zinnia’s eyes grew wide as she spied Rita through the shelving unit, and before Rita could make a slick getaway, which seemed a bit immature, Zinnia had joined her. “Rita Jansen?” she said in disbelief. “My stars! Is that really you?”
“Hey, Zinnia.” Rita made an uneasy smile. “I like your new do.” She fingered a strand of Zinnia’s hair, which felt in need of a good conditioning. “Looks good on you.”
“Thanks.” Zinnia made a puzzled expression. “Find what you’re looking for?”
“Not exactly. This isn’t my brand.” Rita put the conditioner back on the shelf.
Zinnia’s brows arched. “Really? What brand do you prefer?”
Rita continued being friendly, telling Zinnia about the new line her salon had starte
d carrying. “But I think I might have enough to last me until I go back.”
Now Zinnia expressed sympathy for Rita’s mom. “Johnny told me all about it. Such a shame. I hope Donna’s doing better.”
Rita gave her a brief update. “But I’m not sure how long it’ll be before she can return to work.”
“Oh…that’s too bad.” Zinnia shook her head with pursed lips.
Rita waved her arm toward the wall. “This is really something, Zinnia. Very lively and cheerful.”
Zinnia’s green eyes twinkled. “You don’t think it’s too much?”
“Too much?” Rita feigned surprise. “I’m sure your clientele must love it.”
“Oh, yeah, I get lots of compliments. My goal is for clients to leave here feeling happy and refreshed.” She seemed to study a shiny white chair. “I think it accomplishes that.”
“Well, you certainly seem busy enough.” Rita nodded to a pair of women just entering the salon. “Good for you.”
“Speaking of busy. One of those gals is my next appointment.” Zinnia called out a warm greeting, then made what seemed a slightly forced smile for Rita. “Thanks for stopping in. I hope your mom gets well soon.”
Rita felt relieved to get out of Zinnia’s. She wasn’t sure if it was the loud music or loud colors or simply the discomfort of spying. But she couldn’t deny that Zinnia had a successful business on her hands, or that her clients seemed genuinely happy to be there. And despite the history Rita had with Zinnia, something she chose not to think about, she had to admit that her mom’s competition was doing a lot right. As soon as she entered her mom’s salon, she couldn’t help but grimace over the severe contrast in these two salons. She would never say this to her mother, but Hair and Now felt like a mortuary compared to Zinnia’s.
Chapter 6
“Why so glum, chum?” Charlene watched curiously as Rita stashed her handbag in the back room’s closet. “Your mom still doing okay?”
“Oh, yeah. I mean, as far as I know.”
“So what’s troubling you?”
Rita slowly closed the closet door. “I was just at Zinnia’s…”
Charlene scowled. “Oh…well, what did you think of it?”
“It’s so different from here…”
“Yes, but didn’t you find it, you know, a bit garish?”
Rita pursed her lips. “I’ll admit it was on the bright side and a little loud for my taste. But it was friendly and upbeat.”
“Looks to me like they had a paint-gun war in there and the flowers lost.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t go that far.” Rita smiled at that image. “I mean, sure, I’m not a big fan of all those wild colors in one place, but it’s not like we have room to talk.” She waved her hands toward a dull rose-colored wall. “Have you really looked at this place lately, Charlene?”
Charlene shrugged. “Like I said, upgrades are expensive. We’re hanging on by a thread as is. And now with Donna laid up. Well, I don’t know…”
“I understand that. But I’m trying to think of some way—something not too pricey—to perk this place up.”
“That would be nice.” Charlene helped herself to another doughnut.
“I’ve seen some of those makeover shows. There are improvements you can do that aren’t that costly. I just need to make a budget and see what I can do with it.”
“Say…” Charlene held up a sugar coated finger. “I know a way we could make a little money…you know to use for your makeover plan…that is, if your mother would let us.”
“What’s that?”
Charlene took Rita over to the wall in the back. They called it Memory Lane, and it was full of old photos of the salon. “Remember those?”
“Yeah.” Rita smiled at a cute shot of her mom. “Look at that wild mane of hair. That must’ve been the Farrah Fawcett era.”
Charlene pointed to one of the earliest pictures. “No, I mean, look at this picture of the salon, taken when we first opened.”
Rita looked at one of her mom in a haircutting chair. Hamming it up with a hand behind her head, she had a cheesy smile. “Mom’s signature frosted shag haircut. Circa the midseventies. Mom said that’s what everyone wanted when they came in here those early days.”
“No, Rita, I mean, look at those chairs.” Charlene tapped a green chair in the photo.
Rita bent forward, squinting to see the chairs better. “I don’t really remember those chairs. But that’s because Mom changed everything when I was pretty young.”
“Well, did you know that we still have those green chairs?”
“Seriously?”
“Yes. Your dear mother has refused to let them go. At first she thought she might open a second salon and use them. Then she just forgot about them. But they’re all in the there.” She pointed to the door that led into the storage area that Rita remembered as a nightmarish sort of place that no one ever wanted to venture into.
“Oh…?” Rita frowned. “And…?”
“And according to my daughter-in-law, you can sell things like that on eBay and Craigslist. Some people are really into all that old stuff and will pay big money for them.”
“Really? You think we could actually sell the chairs?”
“Sure. If you could get Donna to agree.”
“Interesting idea…”
Charlene glanced at the clock on the wall. “Time for my three o’clock. Just a haircut, and we don’t have any more appointments. Jillian and Yolanda already went home. I could stick around until closing in case there are walk-ins. That is unless you plan to be here.”
“I’ll be here,” Rita told her. “Go ahead and take off when you finish.”
“I’ll put the towels in the washer before I leave, if you wouldn’t mind putting them in the dryer.”
“No problem.” Rita opened the door to the storage room and turned on the lights.
“You’re really going in there?” Charlene looked concerned.
“Yeah. If you don’t hear from me before you leave, send in a search party.”
Charlene laughed. “Will do.”
The storage room was long and narrow. Like a man-made cave, it went the full length of the entire salon. And, of course, it was filled with everything imaginable and sometimes reminded Rita of a scene from a Stephen King movie. Bracing herself for spiderwebs and who knew what else, she started to create an alley past broken hairdryers, fake plants, shelving units, wobbly tables, boxes of Christmas decorations, rolled-up area rugs, cardboard boxes, and plastic crates. She had no idea what she’d do if the lights went out—probably scream for help.
About midway through she discovered a row of ghostly-looking lumps. Covered in old sheets, she suspected these were the chairs. She gingerly removed the first sheet to reveal it was indeed a chair. But it seemed to be a much brighter green than what she’d seen in the faded old photo. In fact, upon closer inspection, this chair was quite handsome. Constructed of stainless steel and covered in lime green vinyl, it wasn’t only retro-cool, but as she sat down in it, she discovered it was quite comfortable, too.
“What a treasure!” she exclaimed as she attempted to move the chair into the alley she’d made. Because of the heavy metal base and solid construction, she could barely budge it, and there was no way she could carry it out of the storage room. Not about to give up, she transformed one of the area rugs into a skid, and after she maneuvered the chair onto the rug, she slowly slid it down the alley toward the door.
She was slightly breathless but excited when she finally got the lime green chair into the back room. It was really attractive and would probably look even better if it was dusted and cleaned up a bit. She grabbed a damp towel and some cleaning solution, and went to work on it. By the time she finished, she could imagine a very upscale LA salon being interested in something like this. And to think they had a full set! She went over to look at the old photo again. Not just haircutting chairs, but shampoo chairs, too. She sat down in the chair again, testing to see if it still turned and m
oved up and down. A little oil and it would probably be as good as new.
“Hey, look what you found.” Charlene grinned as she came into the back room with a laundry basket of towels.
“These are really cool chairs.” Rita stood up to admire it again.
“I think someone might pay good money for them.” Charlene shoved the towels into the washer, pouring in soap.
“They seem really well made.”
“Well, they didn’t come cheap.” Charlene turned on the machine then came over to examine the chair. “Not even back in the seventies. But Donna insisted on the best. And with the money that Bernice gave her to invest in this place, she could afford it.” Charlene ran a hand over the smooth lime green vinyl. “Hair and Now was a happening place back in the seventies. We were hopping busy all the time. Kept all eight cutting chairs filled, with women in the waiting area.” She sighed. “But that was then.”
Rita returned to the old photos. “The salon was pretty cute,” she said. “I really like those floors. Perfect with these chairs. I’m surprised Mom wanted to change everything. Especially with these chairs still in such great condition.”
“Some of her clientele had made negative comments…thought the green was too bright. And business had been really booming, so your mom could afford to redecorate. Of course, dusty rose was all the rage at the time. The customers loved it…back then.”
“But this color of green is so much more contemporary,” Rita said. “In a retro-cool sort of way. And these chairs are so well made. It would be expensive to match this quality with something new.”
“Your mom’s always had a good eye for quality…when she could afford it.” Charlene was pulling on her coat now. “Speaking of Donna, I thought I’d swing by and say hello to her on my way home.”
Love Gently Falling Page 5
