The Yellow Rose Beauty Shop

by Carolyn Brown

  Stella kept pacing, fighting back the tears welling up behind her eyelids. “The town is barely big enough for two beauty shops as it is, and we’ve just now got things built up and . . .” Her voice got louder with each word. The lump in her throat was bigger than a grapefruit, and no matter how hard she swallowed, it would not go down.

  “Slow down, girl,” Trixie said. “Like Piper said, it’ll all blow over by next week. They’ll put something else on the sign and the gossip about you will be old news. You know what they do with yesterday’s newspaper, don’t you? They wrap raw fish in it or put it on the bottom of birdcages.”

  “We can always sell out and go back to Dallas,” Piper said.

  “Or maybe we could go to Walmart in Sherman. I hear they’re always looking for good help in the beauty shop up there,” Charlotte said.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” Stella declared. “And I don’t need a husband and I’m pissed and I could just . . .” She went to the back room; sat down at the table that served as a place to eat, do business, and fold clothing; and put her head on her arms. She wouldn’t cry, not with Trixie there, even if she was a friend. She wouldn’t. She refused to let one tear fall. But it did, and then a river washed down her face, taking mascara and blush with it but none of the pain.

  Charlotte and Piper hurried to her side, pulled out chairs, and patted her shoulder, her arm, and her knee.

  “I’ve never seen you cry like this,” Charlotte said.

  “Not since that rotten boy ruined your reputation our sophomore year,” Piper said.

  “I’d almost forgotten about that son of a bitch,” Charlotte said.

  “You’ve got every right to be pissed.” Trixie laid a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll come back later for a cut and highlights. I understand how you feel, but don’t worry about the shop. If we’ve proven anything up at Clawdy’s, it’s that gossip is damn good for business.”

  “I’ll do your hair, Trixie,” Piper said. “I don’t have an appointment for another hour, so I can do it with no problem. Just take a seat in my chair and I’ll be right there. Stella, pull yourself together. This isn’t the end of the world.”

  Charlotte whispered, “What happens if God answers their prayers? We’re right in the middle of planning my wedding. I don’t mean to be selfish, but we’ve barely got started and those Angels are pretty powerful. My aunt is on the team and she’s a true believer.”

  “She can’t get married at all and neither should any of you,” Piper said. “It’s all real good until about that seventh year and then he’ll decide he wants to be a bachelor again and he’s not ready for those two kids you had. No, he doesn’t want to share custody. Every other weekend and two weeks in the summer is fine with him because he and the bitch he’s sleeping with are too busy to take care of kids any more than that. Then you’ll be totally responsible for six-year-old twin boys and all the bills.”

  Stella heard them talking. She understood that they had her best interests at heart even if they did disagree. Charlotte wanted her to be as happy as she was with Boone, and Piper wasn’t over the pain of a divorce. Stella was happier than she’d ever been in her whole life, but she wasn’t ready to tell anyone about her new love . . . not yet.

  Keeping a great big secret from them both was hard enough, but keeping it from her mother had been tougher. Mixed emotions shot through Stella. She was pissed—God almighty, but she was pissed—but a tiny little part of her heart understood that her mama only had her best interests at heart. Too bad that little 10 percent couldn’t do anything about the pissed-off 90 percent.

  Her phone rang and she answered it, “Have you seen that sign?”

  “Yes, sweetheart, I saw it. Are you okay? What do you want to do?” the familiar deep voice asked. “You want me to cancel the meeting this morning and come to the shop? You sound like you’ve been crying. I can’t stand to think of you upset like this.”

  “I’ll be okay, and no, a thousand times no, don’t come to the shop. We’ve got to keep this under wraps for a few weeks, and if you walked in the door right now, I’d melt into your arms in a weeping mess.”

  “I love you, Stella,” he said.

  “I love you right back. I’ll be fine and I’ll see you later tonight.”

  Her forehead made a pop when it hit the table again. Her gut twisted up tighter than a hangman’s noose, and she forgot to inhale until her lungs started to burn.

  She sat up and said loudly as she headed back into the shop, “I should go down to the church and set that damn sign on fire.”

  “The more you stir in shit, the worse it smells. Laugh it off when anyone asks you about it. Tell them you’re having triplets and Nancy is going to have to babysit them so you can make a living since you don’t have a husband. Spread it around that Nancy will be sorry she ever wanted a grandchild since they’re all going be red-haired demons,” Trixie said.

  “I’m only twenty-six. I’m not an old maid,” Stella said.

  “No wonder everyone in town is so happy to see so many weddings going on. We are known for our hot peppers. We sure wouldn’t want that to change to being known for having too many old maids in town,” Trixie teased.

  Stella slumped down on the other end of the sofa from Charlotte, leaned her head back, and pinched the bridge of her nose with two fingers. It didn’t erase the headache but at least she’d stopped seeing red dots in front of her eyes. “I can’t go to church on Sunday with that sign out there, and besides, Jed always reads the prayer list.”

  “Oh, yes, you can and you will,” Trixie said. “If you don’t go, the gossip will just get worse. They’ll say that you are home with morning sickness. Besides, you’ll be at the piano, so nobody will turn around and stare at you when he says your name.”

  Piper finished the haircut and motioned for Trixie to follow her to the shampoo sink. “I agree with Trixie. Pretend it’s all a big joke. Sit right there on the piano bench and smile. It will take him three minutes to read the whole list and then he’ll start preaching. Everyone will forget the names by the time he gets finished.”

  Trixie nodded in agreement. “It’ll be good for both of our businesses. Folks will flock to the café to gossip and then they’ll come by here to make an appointment and take a look at Stella. The minute they walk out the door, they’ll call everyone they know to report that you don’t have a baby bump yet. You have just become Cadillac’s brand-new celebrity.”

  Stella’s hand went from nose to eyes. “What if everyone in town starts trying to find a husband for me? Mama has already embarrassed the hell out of me on more than one Sunday, inviting men over to dinner and expecting me to be nice to them.”

  She inhaled deeply and whispered, “Dear Lord, what has she done?”

  Charlotte’s needles clicked as she created a lovely cable pattern on the baby blanket she was working on. “This wouldn’t have happened if you’d picked one out. Now she’s not the only one looking for a husband for you—the whole town will join in the manhunt. And as far as the preacher reading the list, darlin’, I wouldn’t care if that man read the dictionary on Sunday morning. I’d drool no matter what he read. He’s so sexy it’s a shame he’s a preacher.”

  “The preacher?” Piper asked.

  Charlotte looked up from her knitting with a twinkle in her eyes. “Yes, ma’am!”

  “You are engaged! You shouldn’t be looking at other men like that.” Stella sat up straight, dry-eyed and unblinking.

  “That don’t mean I’m dead. I might diet on occasion, but it don’t mean I can’t look at the ice cream at the grocery store. Mmmmm, ice cream on the preacher’s—”

  Stella grabbed a bottle of window cleaner and headed toward the front of the shop. “I’ve got to do something to keep from taking a sledgehammer to that sign.”

  Piper hollered over the sound of running water, “I just did those windows yesterday.”
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  “I know you did, but my hands are shaking and Charlotte talking about the preacher’s equipment isn’t helping one bit,” Stella said.

  “I wasn’t going to say his equipment.” Charlotte giggled. “I was going to say his Bible. And besides, God is too busy scouring the earth for a husband for you to be busy slinging lightning at me, so come on back over here and sit down.”

  “You’re lyin’, girlfriend! The look on your face had nothing to do with the Good Book,” Piper said.

  Stella didn’t see anything funny in any of it, not the Angels, the sign, or the comments. An ominous black cloud hung above her, and the air was static with electricity. The Yellow Rose would have clean windows and a gorgeous display window, but could it withstand all the gossip? Would her clients leave her and go to Ruby’s down the street? Worse yet, could her love life withstand the scrutiny? It wouldn’t surprise her one bit to be out on the street with nothing but an overdue bank note and a broken heart.

  Absolutely nothing could get worse.

  And then her mother waved at her from the other side of the window.

  “Good mornin’, girls.” Nancy breezed through the front door. “I had to make an early morning run up to Sherman, so I brought y’all a dozen doughnuts. Why are you cleaning those windows? Didn’t Charlotte do them yesterday?”

  Stella’s jaw ached from clamping it shut so tightly. If she opened her mouth, the words that spewed out would take the paint right off the wall.

  “No, ma’am, I cleaned them yesterday,” Piper said.

  Charlotte put her knitting to the side and made a hasty retreat to the back room to organize the stock shelves.

  Nancy set the doughnuts on the coffee table in front of the dryers. “What’s going on in this place? All of a sudden it’s quiet as a funeral. Y’all know something I don’t. Did someone die? Oh, no, has your Agnes Flynn died, Trixie?”

  “No, ma’am,” Trixie said. “She’s alive and well and believe me, she will be meddlin’ in whatever happens next in Cadillac. You seen the sign down at the church?”

  “What sign?” Nancy asked.

  Trixie handed her phone to Piper. She found the picture and held it out to Nancy.

  “Oh, no! I didn’t tell them to do that. I just . . . oh, shit! The prayer list is confidential . . .”

  “Not when they read it on Sunday morning before services,” Charlotte said.

  “I didn’t think about that. Lord love a duck.” She gasped her favorite saying.

  “I’m really, really pissed off, Mama,” Stella said around the lump in her throat and the heaviness in her chest.

  Nancy popped her hands on her hips. “Well, I’ve tried everything else. I’ve practically dragged men off the streets to find you a husband. You won’t take care of business, so maybe God and the Angels can. Heather is responsible for that sign, so don’t blame me. And I will not apologize for praying for you.”

  Stella took several steps forward, tiptoed slightly, and went nose to nose with her mother. “That prayer list is for the sick and folks who are needy. Shit fire, Mama! It’s not for a husband or a new car or a new boat. What if Agnes did need the prayers and died because y’all were praying for a husband to fall out of the clouds and into my life?”

  Nancy pushed back her naturally curly salt-and-pepper hair, but she didn’t blink as she stood her ground against Stella. “The Good Book says to ask and it shall be given. It does not say what you can or cannot ask for. It just says to ask believing and the desires of your heart will be granted. I desire a grandbaby and I’m asking. It does not say that you cannot ask for a son-in-law or a new car or a new boat. But don’t tell your daddy that. All I’ve heard since he retired is that his fishing boat is too small since he can go every day now.”

  “This is not about Daddy’s fishin’ boat, and you’d better be careful what you ask for. It all could come back around and bite you square on the ass. Everyone in town thinks I need a husband because I’m pregnant. If you want a grandbaby maybe I could arrange that without a husband,” Stella said tersely.

  “You wouldn’t dare.” Nancy took a couple of steps back and gasped like a fish out of water. After a long pause, she whispered, “I guess it’d be too much to ask to get my hair trimmed this morning?”

  “I wouldn’t trust her with scissors if I was you,” Piper whispered.

  “Then you cut my hair,” Nancy said.

  “Not on your life. I wouldn’t touch anyone’s hair who’s prayin’ for a marriage to take place. I wouldn’t wish a damn husband on my worst enemy, and Stella is my friend.” Piper followed Trixie back to the chair to do her highlights.

  “Charlotte!” Nancy yelled.

  Charlotte poked her head out of the door to the supply room. “No, ma’am. I have to work every day with Stella. If I cut your hair, she’ll think I’m on your side. I wish Stella could find someone to love her like Boone loves me, but it would be wise if you’d take her name off the list and let her do her own husband hunting.”

  “This isn’t the only beauty shop in town,” Nancy said.

  “No, it isn’t. You go on down to the other one and take your doughnuts with you,” Stella said. “I’m going to be mad for a long time, Mama. You should have thought about the consequences of what you were doing. We’ve got a business to run, and you know how people gossip in Cadillac.”

  “Sunday dinner?” Nancy narrowed her eyes.

  “Won’t be at your house,” Stella said bluntly.

  Nancy picked up the box of doughnuts. “What will I tell your daddy?”

  “Tell him he’s not going to be a grandfather on Mother’s Day. Tell him that he might never be a grandfather if someone doesn’t take that shit off the church billboard and my name off that list.”

  Piper waited until Nancy was gone to light into Stella. “I’m your friend and this is embarrassing, humiliating, and horrible but Nancy is your mother, girl. You only get one mother in this lifetime. Think about it before you cut off your nose to spite your face. I don’t want you to get married. Hell, I don’t want any woman to get married after what I’ve been through, but don’t blame Nancy for all of it. Heather is in charge of the church sign.”

  Stella’s eyes went to Charlotte, who said, “Don’t look at me. I’d probably burn my mama alive if she did something like that.”

  Stella tucked her chin into her chest. “Charlotte, you are pure genius. We could get some kindlin’ and tie Heather to the sign before we set it on fire. Burn the witch at the stake. Maybe that would make everyone who is gossiping at least think about what they’re saying.”

  “Witch!” Charlotte said. “You got that wrong. She’s not a witch. She’s a full-fledged, card-carryin’, bona fide bitch.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Southern women do not sweat. They get dewy, or in very hot weather they might perspire, but that was said in whispers. It was too damn hot for Nancy Baxter to be getting dewy or perspiring. It was too damn hot for an angry, chubby fifty-plus-year-old woman to be trotting across an asphalt church parking lot. She was downright sweating and that was all there was to it. But there wasn’t a single parking spot on either side of the street at Ruby’s Beauty Shop, so Nancy had to park a block away in the CNC church parking lot.

  Her thighs stuck together but she wasn’t about to reach up under her skirt and swipe that away with a tissue. Gossip would have it that Nancy had lost her mind and was wiping her ass right there in the church parking lot because her daughter had gotten pregnant out of wedlock. Who in the hell had authorized that damn sign, anyway, and why hadn’t they called her before they did it? She wanted to cry or kick the hell out of something or maybe both.

  Heat and fighting with Stella had always jacked up her blood pressure. Stella knew that and she should know better than to argue with her when the day started off at ninety degrees with the possibility of triple digits before noon. It would be al
l Stella’s fault if Nancy crumpled in a heap of sweat and bones right there on Main Street in Cadillac, Texas, before she ever got a grandchild.

  Her ears buzzed and her pulse raced. Hot salty tears stung her eyes. That damned Heather had sweet-talked the last preacher into letting her take care of the church sign when she first came to Cadillac. When he retired and Jed took over, it was like that sign about guns—until they pried it out of her cold, dead hands, no one was getting the box of letters to make words on the sign.

  Figuring she’d just about taxed her body to the last degree, Nancy climbed the steps to Miss Clawdy’s Café and sat down in the porch swing to catch her breath. Thank God, the Andrews girls had left the porch swing up when they’d turned the old house into a café after their mother died.

  How would Stella feel if she just keeled over right there on that swing? Fell forward with her eyes rolled up in the back of her head and her hair needing fixed.

  She frowned as she dabbed at the moisture running down her neck and beading up under her nose. She smeared makeup over a tissue when she ran it over her face and across her eyelids. She was not going to apologize to Stella for something she hadn’t done, by damn. But she would turn that damn sign into splinters if it wasn’t down by noon.

  That was, if she lived until noon. Was everything truly ready for her to pass on to eternity? Her hair was a fright but the undertaker could call in Ruby to fix it. She’d rise right up out of her coffin if they let Stella anywhere near her after the way she’d carried on about the prayer list.

  It had been weeks since Nancy had plucked her eyebrows. Well, Ruby would have to take care of that, too. She had shaved her legs the night before so there shouldn’t be too much flak about that when the old gossips talked about her passing on at such a young age right there on the café porch.

  Did her underbritches have holes in them? She couldn’t remember, so she discreetly pulled her shirt up and checked. They were the new ones with the good elastic, so yes, she could pass away right there on Main Street if she got too hot or too angry. She had on clean underpants, so not a single woman in town could fault her.