The Red Hat Society's Acting Their Age

by Regina Hale Sutherland

  On the canned goods aisle, Mack unloaded a crate of green beans. Mia rolled her cart over. “Hi, Mack. I hear you had a little excitement around here the other day.”

  He turned away from the shelves and faced her, his bald head gleaming beneath the overhead lights. “You mean the shoplifter?”

  Nodding, she said, “The sheriff told me you caught her.”

  “Red-handed.” He chuckled. “She was about to slip a jar of peanut butter into her bag. Don’t know where she planned to put it; the thing was already crammed full.”

  “Peanut butter, huh? That’s not the sort of thing kids usually steal, is it? She must’ve been hungry.”

  “Candy’s usually the item of choice for kids. I think she just hadn’t made it to that aisle yet.”

  “So, what else did she take?”

  “Pop-Tarts. Cookies. A couple of apples. A jar of grapefruit juice. Stuff like that.”

  “Sounds like a kid in trouble to me. Not just out to pull one over on somebody.”

  Mack set a can on the shelf behind him then scratched his chin. “Maybe. She was a skinny little thing. She looked scared and lost.”

  “When she’s found, you planning to press charges?”

  His cheek twitched. “Well, Mia, I hate it, but I feel like I have to. I can’t be giving away merchandise and stay in business.”

  Mia smirked at him. “Now, Mack. How many times have you opened a bag of pet food to feed that stray dog that hangs out around here?”

  He started to respond then looked beyond her. “Hey there, Sheriff.”

  Turning, Mia found Cade behind her, a soft drink in his hand.

  “Mia. Mack.” He popped the top and lifted the can. “Stopped by for a Coke.”

  She pursed her lips and stared at him. And just happened to end up on the same aisle as me. She knew for a fact the drink machines were out in front of the store. “Well, I’d better get back to work,” she said.

  Cade smiled. “I’ll walk you out.”

  “Aren’t you here to talk to Mack?”

  “Just to tell him still no word on that girl.”

  “I figured as much,” Mack said. “Now Mia’s got me feeling all guilty about making the kid face the music.”

  “You do whatever you think’s right, Mack.” Avoiding Cade’s stare, Mia nodded at the grocer and started to push her cart past him. “Nice talking to you.”

  Cade, too, said goodbye to the man then caught up to her. “You care to explain why you’re so concerned over Mack pressing charges against Rachel Nye? Seeing as how you don’t know a thing about her whereabouts, I mean.”

  Rachel wasn’t the only sarcastic snot in town, Mia decided. “No, I don’t care to explain.” She maneuvered the cart around Aubrey Ricketts, who stood center aisle, staring at them. “Were you eavesdropping?” she asked Cade.

  “I couldn’t help but overhear. You two weren’t whispering.”

  “I was only making conversation. How’d you know I was here, anyway?”

  “What makes you think I knew? I was buying a Coke, like I said.” He slid her a sideward glance. “I saw Missy Potter out front. She mentioned running into you.”

  “Isn’t there something you should be doing?”

  “I can’t imagine what.”

  “Well I, for one, didn’t elect you to office so you could spend your days stalking women and drinking Cokes.”

  He grinned. “So, you voted for me?”

  Mia shook her head. “You’re incorrigible, Cade.”

  “So I’ve been told.” He took a drink, eyeing her basket. “That’s some interesting stuff you’ve got there.” He reached inside and pulled out the bottle of polish. “I never noticed you with painted fingernails before. And I sure didn’t peg you as the purple type.” Lifting the lip gloss, too, he muttered, “Bubblegum.”

  The smug certainty on his face didn’t escape Mia. “You don’t know everything there is to know about me, Cade.”

  “I’ve been trying to do something about that. You don’t make it easy.”

  When they arrived at the checkout, everyone in the store, from the two checkout clerks, to the sackers, to the six or so other customers up front, watched her and Cade. Within half an hour, the entire town would think they’d gone grocery shopping together and have them shacking up.

  Beside her, Cade said, “What? No food for that new kitten Aggie gave you?”

  Mia’s pulse skipped. “I bought plenty of cat food when I was in here last week.”

  The checker glanced up as she scanned a box of microwave popcorn. “I don’t recall you buying cat food, Mia.”

  Ignoring the girl, Mia bit the inside of her cheek.

  Cade coughed, looking more smug than ever. “Sure you won’t change your mind about supper tonight?”

  “I’m sure. I have plans.”

  “To paint your nails purple, eat tacos, and read movie magazines from the looks of it.”

  She stared straight ahead. “Exactly.”

  “And listen to Carole King, I hope.”

  In spite of everything, Mia felt on the verge of laughter. “Maybe.”

  “Have fun.”

  “I plan to.”

  Cade handed her the polish then the lip gloss. Their fingers brushed. Every nerve ending in Mia’s body sprang to attention.

  “Bet that bubblegum stuff tastes good,” Cade said quietly. “Something like that on a girl would’ve driven me to distraction when I was . . . I don’t know . . . fourteen? Fifteen years old?”

  Refusing to look at him, she handed the magazines to the clerk.

  “That along with your strawberry hair . . . I would’ve been a goner, for sure.”

  When the young checker giggled, Mia began plotting Cade’s murder.

  Chapter 8

  Mia pulled a pan of brownies from the oven. The shades were drawn, the tacos eaten, the dishes put away. When the high-pitched hum of the hair dryer stopped, she glanced toward her kitchen table where Leanne, Aggie, and Rachel played beauty shop.

  “Look at you, sugar!” As Leanne fluffed Rachel’s hair, Aggie clapped her hands together.

  Leanne had rinsed “toasted chestnut” coloring through Rachel’s hair at the kitchen sink, then dried her wet head at the table. The warm tone softened the girl’s face and brought out the flecks of gold in her huge brown eyes.

  Setting the brownies on the counter to cool, Mia walked to the table and pushed a button on Christy’s old makeup mirror. The tiny lights surrounding it flickered to life.

  Rachel studied her reflection with uncertainty. “Oh . . . my God!”

  Beaming, Aggie said, “She looks sweet, doesn’t she, Leanne?”

  “Sweet?” Rachel’s face twisted in disgust.

  “She means sweeeet, Packrat,” Leanne quickly interjected, in a weak imitation of a surfer dude. “As in, radical.”

  Rachel’s brows drew together, like they’d been pulled by a thread. She groaned and rolled her eyes.

  “At least give me credit for trying,” Leanne said dryly.

  Aggie only looked baffled by the comment, since what she’d meant was sweet as in “nice and prim.”

  What Rachel looked, Mia thought, was fourteen and pretty, rather than fourteen trying to appear twenty-five.

  Stepping back from Rachel’s chair, Leanne said, “You fix it like you want it. I’m not good with styles.”

  Mia reached for the cordless phone when it rang then sat in the chair beside Aggie. She pushed the button.

  “Hey, Mom.” Her youngest son’s deep voice vibrated at the other end of the line.

  “Trey!”

  Everyone at the table fell silent.

  “Is something wrong?” Trey asked. “You sound funny.”

  Her heart thudding out of control, Mia watched Rachel grab a bottle of hair gel from the center of the table, one she’d pulled earlier from the virtual beauty salon she kept hidden away in the depths of her backpack. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m just surprised to hear your voice.”


  “It hasn’t been that long since we talked.”

  “That’s why I’m surprised.” Knowing she made no sense, Mia gave a jittery laugh.

  “I was thinking,” Trey said after a moment of silence. “Why don’t you let me fly you to Dallas next Saturday? You can see my new place. Maybe help me with some of the decorating.”

  “Oh, honey, that sounds fun. Thanks for the offer, but I don’t know if I can get away from the coffee shop.” Normally she’d jump at the chance to spend time with her busy son.

  “That’s your Saturday off, isn’t it?”

  “Well yes, but . . . Let me call you midweek, okay? We’ll see how I feel. I still haven’t recovered from the holidays.”

  “We weren’t that bad, were we?” His laugh sounded a tad wounded.

  Mia cringed inside. Trey referred to himself, his brother, and Brent’s family. She hated that she’d given him that impression. “Of course not. I loved having all of you. You know that. I just have a little cold.”

  After promising to call him on Wednesday, Mia hung up.

  “Who was that?” Rachel asked, adding more glossy goo to her fingertips.

  “My youngest son.”

  Leanne unplugged the hair dryer. “Everything okay?”

  “Trey wants me to fly there next Saturday to help decorate his new condo.”

  “Go,” Aggie said. “We’ll be fine.” She slid a glance toward Rachel.

  “We’ll see,” Mia told them.

  Leanne changed the subject as she wound the cord around the hairdryer. “Was Roy okay about you spending the night, Ag?”

  Aggie’s chin lifted a fraction. “No, but he can just go drown himself in root beer floats at Joe Pat’s again like he did last night. He drank so much of the stuff, he was up and down going to the bathroom ’til the wee hours.”

  Rachel giggled. “He was weeing until the wee hours, you mean.”

  Laughing along with the others, Mia asked, “What was Roy doing at the pool hall? You two have a spat?”

  “He was being mule-headed, as usual. It’s not worth talking about.” Aggie pursed her lips.

  “Maybe you’ll get roses.” Rachel picked and pulled at tiny strands of her hair, spiking it out in every direction. “When my dad was mule-headed he always bought my mom flowers.”

  “Your foster dad?” Leanne placed the dryer on the table.

  Rachel barked a short, sharp laugh. “Ricky? No way. He wouldn’t buy Pam flowers in a million years. I’m talking about my real dad.”

  When Leanne and Aggie both frowned at Mia, she sent them a quick wink, hoping they’d let it go. For now, at least.

  “There,” Rachel said. After a final inspection in the mirror, she sat back and looked at the three women.

  The wild style didn’t seem as startling with Rachel’s new, more natural hair color. Mia liked it. The spikes fit the girl’s personality. “Dahling, you look mahvelous,” she told her.

  Rachel reached for her cosmetic bag.

  While she went to work on her face, Aggie rose to cut the brownies. Meanwhile, Leanne and Mia flipped through the new magazines from the grocery store, as well as the ones Rachel had acquired using a five-finger discount.

  Leanne turned a page in Seventeen. “I notice these models are going subtle on the eye makeup. Light brown liner instead of black. Easy on the shadow.” She thumbed another page without looking up. “I know that’s not your style, though, Rachel.”

  “Let me see.” Rachel lowered her black eyeliner pencil and took the magazine from Leanne. She flipped through the pages. “Less is better with this new hair color. I knew that.”

  Leanne tilted her head and studied her. “Whatever you think.” She shrugged. “I guess you could give it a try.”

  Handing the magazine back to Leanne, Rachel dug around in her cosmetic bag for a brown pencil. Minutes later, her eyes finished, she brought out a lipstick so dark it appeared almost black.

  “Wait a minute,” Mia said. “I bought you a little something today.” She left the table and went to the utility room where she had left the grocery sack. From inside it, she pulled the lip-gloss tube and the bottle of purple nail polish. She carried them to Rachel.

  “What’s this?” Rachel took the bottle, a pleased look on her face that she quickly covered.

  “The purple made me think of you. You may not like the lip gloss, though. It’s just a touch of color, and I know you like the darker stuff.”

  “Give it a try. Tonight’s for experimenting, sugar,” Aggie encouraged.

  “It tastes good.” Rachel smacked her lips after applying a thin layer. Then she looked into the mirror again, her eyes widening when she saw herself.

  Leanne whistled.

  “Watch out, boys,” Mia said with a laugh.

  “Yeah, right.” Rachel blushed. “Guys my age? They don’t know you exist unless you have boobs. Trust me.”

  “That’ll come soon enough, Packrat.” Leanne tossed back her hair. “And you trust me. Sometimes, they’re more trouble than they’re worth. Besides, you’re a head turner without ’em.”

  Rachel didn’t appear convinced. “Some clothes just look better with boobs.”

  “Well, now that you mention it, a girl should keep a few tricks up her sleeve for special occasions. For instance, if you have to wear a strapless gown to prom or something like that.” Reaching into the pocket of her jeans, Leanne pulled out a tissue. “These aren’t necessarily just for blowing your nose, kiddo.”

  Rachel turned beet red and everyone laughed. She blew out a noisy breath as she turned off the mirror and faced Aggie. “Your turn.”

  “Me?” Aggie frowned.

  Grabbing a magazine from the table, Rachel flipped to an ad featuring a casual, but sharply-dressed woman about Aggie’s age. “See her? I think you should copy her.”

  “Copy her?” Aggie’s face paled. She blinked at the page.

  “Yeah.” Rachel slid the magazine over for Leanne to see. “Don’t you think those kind of jeans would look good on her?”

  Leanne agreed. “Aggie, you’re built just like this model.”

  “She sort of looks like her, too.” Rachel glanced over at Aggie, tilted her head, squinted. “Or you would if you’d change a few things. I mean, no offense, but you could totally use a makeover.” She pointed to one of the hair color boxes Mia had bought. “You should use that one. It’s like the picture.”

  Mia picked up the box and read, “Autumn Kiss.”

  “Oh, good Lord.” Aggie bit her lip. “I’ve been gray for years. What would Roy think?”

  “Lady, you go home looking like that,” Leanne nodded at the picture in the magazine, “Roy’ll think he died and went to heaven. Even those funky little glasses she’s wearing would look good on you.”

  Aggie let loose a nervous laugh. “You think so? They’re reading glasses. If I started using those, I’d have to wear my contacts.”

  “You should.” Rachel popped her knuckles and shifted to look at Mia first, then Leanne. “Okay, we better start so I’ll have time to help you two.”

  Amused with Rachel’s sudden take-charge attitude, Mia asked, “We need makeovers, too?”

  “Duh-uh. Especially you, Mia. I mean, Leanne already has cool clothes. And her hair and makeup look sort of decent for someone old.”

  “Wow.” Leanne arched a brow. “Decent. For someone old. Thanks.”

  Rachel took the towel Leanne had used to dry her hair and wrapped it around Aggie’s shoulders before guiding her to the kitchen sink. “You should play that CD your boyfriend bought you, Mia.”

  “Boyfriend?” Leanne and Aggie both blurted at once, turning to her.

  “It wasn’t a boyfriend, it was Cade.” Mia scowled at Rachel, who grinned. “He stopped by to snoop last night.”

  “And to give her that CD,” Rachel added, turning on the faucet and testing the water.

  Aggie slipped off her glasses, her eyes widening. “We told you that man has a soft spot for you. Didn’t we,
Leanne?”

  Mia felt a hot flash coming on. “He was returning something he borrowed a long time ago, that’s all.”

  “It was brand new,” Rachel announced. “Still in the wrapper.”

  “A brand new CD?” Aggie frowned. “That’s an odd thing to borrow.”

  “It’s a long story. He borrowed it way back in high school.” Mia flipped through the magazine, not seeing the pages.

  “Hmmm.” Leanne tapped a finger on the table and smirked. “You and I both know CDs didn’t exist when we were in high school.”

  Making a face, Rachel positioned Aggie’s head beneath the faucet. “How long ago was that?”

  Leanne raised her brows and said sarcastically, “So long only a few people had even heard of music, wise guy.”

  Closing the magazine, Mia tossed it aside. “Would y’all just drop it? Cade used the CD as an excuse to snoop, but he didn’t get past the front door.”

  An hour later, Aggie had Autumn Kiss Auburn hair and firm instructions from Rachel to (1) start wearing her contact lenses every day instead of just on special occasions, (2) buy some funky little reading glasses like the ones in the magazine to replace the “old lady” ones, and (3) ditch the polyester pants.

  Then it was Mia’s turn. Rachel conferred with Leanne and they agreed that Mia should stop wearing baggy overalls so much. With their heads together over the fashion magazines, the two pointed out slim, flared slacks and fitted jackets in feminine colors that would show off Mia’s figure and brighten her complexion.

  Rachel decided Mia should wear her hair down when not at work. She should also wear a darker shade of lipstick rather than her usual clear gloss since, “you could, like, totally use some color to make you not look so tired.” According to Rachel, Mia’s nails needed attention, too. She wore them clipped short and never bothered with polish. So, in the spirit of experimentation, Mia let Rachel paint them purple. She could hardly wait to flash her fingers at Cade.