by Debby Mayne
I reach over and try to take it from her. “Here, let me see that.”
She jerks it away from me, and I’m left holdin’ onto a corner. “Now look what you went and done, Mama. You ripped my magazine.”
“You can have mine. It’s not ripped.”
“Okay.” She fidgets with her seatbelt, so I take advantage of her guard bein’ down and yank the magazine out of her lap. “What’re you doin’, Mama? I was gonna read that.”
“I just wanna see what they said about Priscilla.”
Bonnie Sue sighs as I skim the article and see that there isn’t much in there I don’t already know, except maybe since I last saw Priscilla and Tim they might have gone and gotten romantic. But I suspect that’s a misprint.
I toss the magazine back at her. “Here. I gotta drive home so the frozen food don’t—I mean doesn’t—thaw out.”
Bonnie Sue thumbs through the magazine before closing it and dropping it to the floor. “I think it’s so cool that we actually know someone famous. Do you think she might hire me when I’m done with beauty school?”
At the stop sign, I tip my head toward her and give her my “mom” look. “You do realize that becomin’ a hairdresser isn’t likely to make you famous, right?”
“That’s what happened to Priscilla. It can happen to me.”
“There’s a lot more to Priscilla than that, Bonnie Sue. Did you know that she was voted ‘Most Likely to Succeed’?”
“Yeah, and she is the most successful. So what’s your point?”
“If we’d known she was gonna drop outta college and become a hairdresser, I don’t think a one of us woulda voted for her.”
Bonnie Sue gives me a look of utter confusion. “So you and all your friends voted for her just because y’all thought she was gonna get a college degree?”
“She was the smartest girl in the whole school. She even beat out Didi Holcomb by a smidge for valedictorian.”
“I still don’t get what your point is, Mama. You’re talkin’ in circles.”
My daughter’s right, but I’m not about to let her know I don’t have a point, except that I want her to go to college. I mean, isn’t that what all parents want for their young’uns?I pull into the driveway and turn to Bonnie Sue. “Give me a hand with the groceries, will ya?”
She carries two bags, and I carry the other five into the kitchen, slammin’ the door behind me with my foot. I talk about how college will open more doors to her future and give her more opportunities than I’ll ever have.
“Bubba didn’t go to college, and Renee’s not doin’ so good no more.” Bonnie Sue shakes her head. “She used to be the smart one in the family, but now . . . ” She nods toward the living room where Renee and Wilson sit watchin’ some hokey wrestlin’ match on TV. “ . . . not so much.”
“Then it’s up to you, Bonnie Sue. Someone in this family has to do something smart.”
“Jack wants to be a rocket scientist.” She rips into the bag of chips and stuffs one into her mouth. “That’s smart.”
As if he’ll ever do that. My youngest child has gone from wanting to be a superhero to private investigator to astronaut and now rocket scientist. No tellin’ what he’ll wind up doin’, but I’d be willin’ to bet his bronzed baby shoes it won’t be none of those things. Pete’s tryin’ to get him to learn a trade, but the boy hates workin’ with his hands, unless it involves food or computers. I commented that he might wanna become a chef, but Pete says no boy of his is gonna have a job workin’ in the kitchen. He considers that women’s work. Obviously he hasn’t seen much on the Food Network. My favorite chefs are the men, no offense to the Barefoot Contessa or Rachel. Give me a man holdin’ a spatula in one hand and a potholder in the other, and I promise you he owns a piece of my heart.
Bonnie Sue hovers in the kitchen eatin’ chips while I put everything away. Once there’s nothin’ left to be done, she brushes her hands together. “If you don’t need me no more, I wanna go call Taylor.”
“Go on ahead. I’ll call you back down when supper’s ready.”
She stops in the doorway and turns to face me. “We’re not havin’ nothin’ yucky, are we?”
“All depends on what you call yucky.” I give her my evilest grin.
She plugs her nose. “I hate fish.”
“We’re not havin’ fish, but I’m gonna try to fix somethin’ healthy.”
“One of your casseroles?” Her eyes light up.
“Prob’ly not. I used to think I was fixin’ healthy food, ’til Mama’s nutritionist told me all that fattenin’ cheese was artery cloggin’.”
She groans and walks out of the kitchen mumblin’ something about her mama turnin’ into a health-food nut. That’s not such a bad idea, after seein’ my mama suffer so bad after her heart attack. I never realized how miserable bein’ in the hospital could be. I used to think all you had to do was lie in bed while nurses waited on you hand and foot. But no, they got Mama goin’ to therapy and meetin’ with all kinds of folks tellin’ her she’s gotta work at gettin’ healthy if she doesn’t wanna die young. I can’t imagine her goin’ for two-mile walks every single day, but she says she’s gonna do it, and Randy’s gonna go with her.
In the meantime, I’m havin’ to learn a whole new way of cookin’. I burned a few meals last week, but I’m startin’ to get the hang of sautéing with cookin’ spray and olive oil. The hardest part is keepin’ the family from addin’ a plop of butter to everything once it’s on their plates. I don’t even put it on the table, but I can pretty much count on one of the boys to hop up and fetch it from the fridge for Pete. Little Jack will do just about anything to get an attaboy from his daddy.
Speakin’ of the devil, I hear Pete stompin’ his feet, tryin’ to get the mud off before enterin’ the house. He parks his truck so close to the edge of the driveway, he has to walk through the yard, and he’s worn out the grass, so he gets mud in his boot tread.
“Hey, Miss Pudge.” He comes up behind me, puts his arms around my waist, and gives me a kiss on the neck. I used to balk at his annoying term of endearment, but I know it’s his way of sayin’ he loves me.
“Hey, yourself.” I tip my head toward the tater bin. “Would you mind grabbin’ me a coupla big potatoes?”
“Sure.” He leans over, inspects the contents, and pulls out a bunch of potatoes. “Is that enough?”
“More than enough.” I rinse my hands, dry them, and take all but the two biggest potatoes and toss ’em back into the bin.
“Hey, what’re you doin’? Are you just cookin’ for me ’n you?”
“No, everyone will be here, but we’re cuttin’ back.”
He groans. “I don’t reckon you’re gonna fry or mash ’em neither.”
“You reckon right.” I pick up one of the potatoes and inspect it. “I’m gonna slice ’em real thin and roast ’em.”
Pete gives me a long, silent look and leaves the kitchen mumbling somethin’ about gettin’ sick of oven-baked potato chips. And I don’t feel guilty because I’m doing it to get my family healthy.
An hour later the family and Wilson sit down at the table. I never ask Wilson to join us, but I reckon since he’s so in love with Renee he figures he doesn’t have to be asked.
Pete glares at him before turning to Bubba. “Wanna say the blessin’, son?”
Bubba stares at the food on his plate and slowly shakes his head. “There’s not much here to bless, is there?”
In spite of the fact that Pete most likely agrees with Bubba, he stabs his finger toward our oldest child. “You better be thankful you have anything to eat. There are homeless people in this world who’d give up their favorite corner on the street to have what you got.” Bless his heart, I know he doesn’t mean it, but at least he’s still showin’ his support in front of the kids.
After Bubba finishes his blessin’, skimpy as it is, Bonnie Sue turns to Pete. “Did Mama tell you about Priscilla havin’ her picture in the magazine?”
Pete looks at B
onnie Sue, his fork suspended between his plate and his mouth. “What magazine?”
“Famous People News.” Bonnie Sue grins at me. “Ain’t that right, Mama? Wasn’t Priscilla’s picture in there?”
I nod, but before I have a chance to say a word, Wilson pipes up. “My mama says that’s the best magazine they is. She goes to the grocery store on Tuesdays on account of that’s when it comes out, and she can be the first to know everything.”
Why am I not surprised? “Is that right, Wilson?”
His mouth is full of steamed vegetables as he speaks. “My mama, she likes to read. Papa says that’s why she’s so smart.” He shovels another forkful of food into his still half-full pie hole. At least someone at the dinner table likes my cookin’.
Pete stares at Wilson with a disgusted look on his face and turns back to me. “So what’s the latest with the reunion? Does it look like everyone will be there this year?”
10
Priscilla
Mandy has a mile-long list for me when I walk into the Jackson office. “These are all people who need to talk to you, and when you’re done getting back to them, I have something I wanna discuss.”
I’m used to Mandy’s bossiness, but something about her is different this time. She doesn’t look me directly in the eye. Instead, she gives me quick glances and looks away, almost as though she’s afraid of something.
“Do you want to talk first?” I stand over her, looking down at the top of her head that’s bent over her desk.
“No, that’s okay. I can wait.”
I walk back to the tiny room in the corner of our upstairs office suite. We talked about moving, but we couldn’t find a new location that makes sense, so here we are in the same spot. After Mandy took over my old office—the big one with the power desk, picture window, and cool phone with all the buttons I still haven’t figured out—I started working from home when I was in Jackson. But there have been some days when I need to be here, so we converted one of the supply closets to a small makeshift office for me, complete with a table barely big enough for my laptop, a much less sophisticated phone, and a chair. I leave the door open to keep from feeling claustrophobic and to get air.
As I work my way down the list, I spot a name I’m not familiar with, so I buzz Mandy. “Do you know who Beth Fay Swanson is?”
“No, but she said you would.”
I put my phone back on the cradle and stare at the name, trying to figure out who she is. It’s vaguely familiar, but nothing comes to me. Finally, I just pick up the phone and punch in her number. The instant she answers, I remember her voice from the restaurant. She’s the fan who just had to take my picture.
“Oh, Ms. Slater, I’m so glad you called me back. The man at Famous People News said I’d probably never hear from you, and if I did, it would be one of your lawyers calling me back with threats.”
“What are you talking about?”
“After you gave me the idea to go to the tabloids, I did just that. The man who gave me the money said you would come after me with the big guns.”
“You’re the one who sold my picture to the magazine?”
“Yes.”
I’m stunned silent, but only for a moment. “I thought you just wanted our picture for personal use. I never would have—”
“I hope you understand I never would have taken money if my husband hadn’t left me with a mortgage and a kid in college, and I had something that was worth some money, and I didn’t exactly have a choice. It’s hard being a single mom, ya know?” She pauses. “I hope you’re not too upset, but I had to do it.”
“So you said.” I sigh. “What do you want from me now?”
“A job.”
“A job?” This is turning into one of the strangest conversations I can ever remember having, and I have to hand it to her . . . she has guts.
“My friends all say you probably have people to look after you, since you’re a celebrity, and I’m really good at a lot of different things. I don’t have a formal education, but I can type, and I learn fast.” She stops to take an audible breath. “If you need a gofer, I’m your girl ’cause now that my son is away at college, I can travel. Ms. Slater, I really need a job, and I’ll do anything. I was in New York interviewing for a job that I didn’t get, and I live in Raleigh, but I don’t mind—”
“And you don’t mind selling information to the magazines to make a buck. Ms. Swanson, I don’t know what your game is, but you have some nerve calling me, let alone asking for a job.”
There’s a long pause over the phone line then a click. I hold the phone out and stare at it for a moment before dropping it back in the cradle. My mind races with all sorts of things, starting with the shock of that woman having the gall to want something from me after what she did.
I bury my face in my hands and try to make some sense of it. This is one of the weirdest situations I’ve ever been in, but as I think about what she’d told me about being a single mom and all, I can understand why she’d do what she did. Desperation sometimes causes people to do things they wouldn’t ordinarily do.
Then the thought hits that I really do need someone else on my staff to help me with some of the minutiae of my life. But there’s no way I’d even consider hiring that woman after what she did. Or maybe I would. Hmm.
The very idea of her request makes me laugh at the absurdity of the mere thought of hiring her. How would I ever be able to trust her? That old saying about keeping your friends close and your enemies closer pops into my head.
I work hard all afternoon at putting her out of my mind, but the more I think about all the things I have to do, the more I realize how much I need assistance. Getting to the network on time, with all the things I have to lug and contacts I have to make while I’m there, has been extremely stressful. Having someone with me would ease the burden, but it would have to be someone who isn’t shy or reserved. Someone who is willing to speak to anyone at any level. Someone who doesn’t worry about what other people think. I can’t believe what I’m thinking: someone like Beth Fay Swanson. As bothersome as her actions were, I have a gut feeling about her—that she’s not a bad person but someone who doesn’t mind doing whatever she has to do to get the job done. At least she had the decency to call me and admit what she’d done. Besides, what she did isn’t illegal, and I have to admit it’s been good publicity for the Ms. Prissy Big Hair system, not to mention the fact that that one picture in the tabloid has significantly increased business for Tim. But I can’t leave Mandy out of the equation, since she’s been with me so long. She deserves the first crack at a new opportunity before I go making an offer to some stranger.
Instead of picking the phone back up to talk to Mandy, I get up and walk to her office. The door isn’t all the way shut, so I knock before pushing it open. She looks annoyed until she realizes it’s me.
“Need something?”
“Would you be interested in traveling?”
“You mean for the job?”
I nod. “Yes, I think it would be nice to have someone travel with me when I visit the salons and TVNS.”
Her forehead crinkles, and she purses her lips. “I’m sorry, Priscilla, but I don’t think I can do it. This guy I’ve been dating . . . well, you know how that is . . . and I’m needed here . . . and . . . ” She gives me a puppy-dog face and a shrug.
Before she has a chance to finish her thoughts, I nod. “You’re right. But I still need someone.”
Mandy narrows her eyes, folds her hands beneath her chin, and studies me for a few seconds. “I can tell you’re up to somethin’, Priscilla. Do you have someone in mind to hire?”
I close the door and pull a chair up to her desk. “You’re going to think I’m nuts, but here’s what I’m thinking.” I tell her my thoughts about Beth Fay, and to my surprise she doesn’t tell me I’m crazy.
“Yeah, she’s got . . . a lot of nerve to do what she did, and that’s exactly what you need. When I heard about her, I thought it sounded like something I m
ight have done back when I was younger. How old is this woman, anyway?”
I smile. “Older than either of us.”
“Oh.” She chews her bottom lip then nods. “You could hire her on a temporary basis to see how she works out before you commit to her long-term.”
I stand up and smile down at Mandy. “Brilliant idea. Thanks for helping me think through this.”
“No problem. I’ve worked for you a long time, and I’m the first to admit you had your hands full with me. The fact that you saw something in me, made me want to work that much harder. Maybe that’ll be the case with this Beth Fay person.” She makes a face. “But considering what she did, you still need to be careful.”
“Oh, trust me, I’ll never turn my back on her or put myself in a dangerous position.”
“Yeah, like don’t let her stay in your hotel room with you.” She smiles. “You know what you’re doing, so if it seems right, then go for it.”
“I sure hope it’s the right thing.” I pause. “You mentioned that you wanted to talk to me about something.”
She grins back at me. “We can talk about it when I remember what it is.”
After I leave Mandy’s office, I give Tim a call and tell him what’s transpired.
He gasps. “You’re kiddin’, right?”
“No, I’m totally serious.” Then I explain my thoughts and tell him what Mandy said.
He laughs. “My granny used to say ‘Keep your friends close but your enemies closer.’ ”
So that’s where I heard it. “She’s not exactly an enemy.”
“Priscilla, this sounds crazy, but I know what Mandy’s saying. You’ve had good instincts so far. So hire her.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, you know you wanna do it.”
“Wanting to do something isn’t a valid enough reason.” Why do I feel as though I’m arguing with myself?
“Maybe not, but it’s not something you can’t undo. Since you live your life in a fishbowl now, it might do you some good to have someone help you manage things. I agree with Mandy about bringing her on as a temp.”
