Ladd Springs

by Dianne Venetta

Chapter One

  Lacy Owens tamped down the flutter of pulse skirting through her chest. Parked across the street from the salon, she stared at the day spa, the mirrored glass display window splashed with fancy lettering. Trendz. Inserted between a sandwich shop and an insurance office, it was painted glossy black and stood out like a bald eagle in a blue sky. The hoagie shop to the right had been there for as long as Lacy could remember, its exterior faded to drab beige. The insurance agency was new and remarkably boring, its window marked by white block letters spelling out the company name and agent. Beyond the building, the green hills of Tennessee rose into the sky, a batch of patchy white clouds floating lazily in the distance.

  Would Annie be happy to see her? Would she be angry? Lacy’s breathing grew shallow. The temperature in the car was rising, heat pressing in on her. Their reunion could go either way. Knowing Annie, she’d try and toss her baby sister out on the sidewalk with a kick to the rump—which would hurt, in more ways than one.

  While Annie might throw her out on sight, Lacy had to try. It was meant to be. She knew it the minute Jeremiah Ladd walked into the lounge, announcing to his girlfriend, Loretta Flynn, they were headed for Ladd Springs. Ladd Springs. Tennessee. Home.

  It was her opportunity. The stars were in alignment. That very day her horoscope said it was time for a return to the fold. Lacy nibbled at her lip, fiddled with the steering wheel. Atlanta had never been home. Atlanta had been her escape.

  A woman pushed out through the front door of Trendz, her brown hair straight and shiny in the midday sun, her clothes fitted and chic. Lacy wondered if the woman had had her nails done. Was Annie in there? Lacy glanced at the clock on her dashboard. Three o’clock. She slid her gaze back to the salon. Annie would have to be, wouldn’t she? She still worked full-time, didn’t she?

  Nerves sputtered and popped. Grabbing a slim leather purse from the passenger seat, Lacy pushed opened her car door and headed in. It was now or never. Hopefully, Annie would understand. Hopefully, she’d forgive her. Hope was all she had. As Lacy crossed the street, her legs felt boneless, like she’d dissolve into a mess on the street, this instant. It was a wonder she could even walk! But walk she would. She’d walk straight into that salon and face her sister, once and for all. It was time. This mess between them had gone on too long and it had to stop.

  Lacy opened the salon door and was immediately sucked in by the strong scent of hair products, nail polish and perfume. Her heart thudded as she scanned the salon’s interior. A line of mirrored stations manned by a bevy of women dressed in black created a corridor down the center. Each stood by their chairs wielding blow dryers, flat irons and scissors over their clients. From above, drips of blue hung down in the form of ceramic lighting. Lacy thought the subtle hues very modern, very sophisticated. Venturing in a few steps, she noticed the nail station was empty. Her spirits fell. No Annie. She heaved a sigh, eyeing the receptionist who sat smiling behind her check-in desk. She was a perky young blonde who didn’t look a day over fifteen.

  “May I help you?” the girl asked.

  “Um...” Lacy hesitated. She looped short curls of hair behind an ear. Should she ask about Annie? Should she leave her name, thus warning her sister of her arrival?

  Absolutely not. A surprise visit was best, sort of a spontaneous reunion where she could gauge her sister’s reaction on the spot and respond accordingly. “Well...” Lacy paused, suddenly second-guessing her entire scheme. “I was wondering about having my nails done.”

  “Great! We have a nail tech who’s the best in the business.”

  Lacy didn’t doubt it. When she and Annie were kids, her older sister forever practiced on her nails, creating stripes, polka dots—the works. Lacy had always been amazed by her sister’s uncanny ability to “stay within the lines” as she painted and wished she could have done as well, but she never could. Polish forever smudged and dripped. Annie was good with hair, too. Lacy could apply makeup, but hair and nails were Annie’s area of expertise. “Hm,” she hedged, “do you happen to know her name?”

  The receptionist looked at her queerly.

  Dingbat—of course she did! She worked here, didn’t she? Flummoxed, Lacy clarified, “I mean, I want to make sure it’s the same woman my friend recommended.”

  “Annie Owens. Is that who you were looking for?”

  Lacy’s heart raced at the confirmation. She nodded.

  Flipping through pages in her appointment book, the receptionist said, “She has availability Friday afternoon, and then next week.” She dragged her pencil lightly down the page and said, “Tuesday morning and Wednesday afternoon.” Checking with Lacy, she asked, “Will any of those work for you?”

  But Lacy didn’t answer. In the back of the salon, Annie had emerged and currently stood immobile in the center aisle. Dryers whirred, conversation chattered, but Annie only had eyes for Lacy.

  Lacy gulped. Without looking at the young woman, stammered, “Um, let me think about it, okay?”

  “Sure thing,” the receptionist replied.

  Annie came to life and approached Lacy with a hard line in her gaze, a chop to her step. Familiar blue eyes bore into her. Annie’s wrath arrived ten steps ahead of her, followed by a sharp whoosh of displeasure, which strummed in the air around them as the woman stood face-to-face. “What are you doing here?”

  Despite her sister’s animosity, Lacy thought Annie looked good. Her hair was shorter now, cut into a cute pageboy, her black-clad figure trim. Her makeup was flattering in shades of pink and other than the vile look in her eyes, Lacy discovered her sister had grown into an attractive woman. “Hi, Annie.” Lacy gave a short wave, flushing with an uncomfortable awkwardness.

  Apparently catching onto the underpinnings of anger between Lacy and Annie, the receptionist closed her book and busied herself with something on her desk.

  “I asked you a question,” Annie repeated flatly.

  Lacy shuddered beneath the caustic tone. People could hear her! “I wanted to let you know that I’m back in town,” she ventured softly.

  “Why?”

  “Um...” She bit her lip, averting the gaze of the receptionist, the inquisitive glances from hairstylists. “Because we’re family, why else?”

  “Is Jeremiah with you?”

  Without thinking, Lacy nodded.

  Loathing poured into Annie’s expression. “So you two are still together.”

  “No!” Lacy exclaimed, pressing a hand to her chest. “Oh, no, we’re not together at all!”

  Annie’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Then why would he be here same time as you? Coincidence?”

  “No. He’s with my friend Loretta. Loretta Flynn.”

  “Your friend?” Annie asked, disbelief crawling through her eyes.

  “Yes, yes—we work together at a lounge in Atlanta.” Or did. She’d quit on her way out the door as she headed home for Tennessee. “That’s how I know he’s here. He told Loretta he was coming home and I...I...” Lacy didn’t know exactly how to say it. I needed an escape? I wanted to come back home? By the icy nature of Annie’s reception, it didn’t seem like her sister much cared why Lacy had returned. Only that she had—and it wasn’t good news.

  “What do you want?”

  Lacy glanced about the immediate vicinity. Was the middle of the salon’s entrance really the place to be having this discussion?

  As though taking her cue, Annie stalked off toward a white leather nail chair. Beside it sat a square black ottoman, a pristine white towel draped over one side. A myriad polish bottles lined the work table, shades ranging from the sheerest of pinks to the darkest of plums. Files and clippers were lined neatly to one side, the workspace made all the brighter by a petite but powerful black lamp. Lacy thought her sister had come a long way from the rinky-dink salon in which she started her career as a teenager. From what Lacy could tell, Trendz was top of the line, as nice as any in Atlanta and a surprise find in this backwoods town. When Lacy lived here, the fanciest store they had going wa
s the flower shop, and they only stayed afloat because of weddings and funerals.

  Struggling to continue the conversation with something harmless, Lacy decided on a compliment. “This is a nice place you work in.”

  “This isn’t a social call.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  Annie glowered, crossing arms over her chest. “What do you want, Lacy?”

  “I’m here to say hello.”

  “Goodbye.”

  Lacy reached out for her sister but quickly rethought the gesture. Annie looked as if she might bite her arm off. “Annie,” she pleaded, “what about all the letters I wrote you? Why didn’t you write back?”

  “Because I had nothing to say to you. Still don’t.”

  Crestfallen, Lacy couldn’t believe her ears. This wasn’t how she’d envisioned their reunion. Rocky, maybe. Thorny, possibly. But absolute rejection? Her sister didn’t even want to try? Sliding a hand up her narrow purse strap, Lacy asked, “Can’t we catch up on old times? Get back in touch?”

  “The old times I remember are you running off with my boyfriend. Sorry, but it’s not something I care to catch up on.”

  “But Jeremiah wasn’t really your—” Lacy scrambled for reason. She’d never thought that Annie and Jeremiah were a serious couple. Jeremiah had been with so many others. Could Annie really be that upset she’d moved to Atlanta with him?

  “He was my boyfriend,” Annie declared, “the one you decided to chase to Atlanta. The fact that he wasn’t faithful doesn’t change the truth.”

  Lacy breathed easier. So she did know. Then why so mad? “I’m sorry, Annie. I just thought—”

  “Thought what? That because he was playing around behind my back, it might as well be you he was playing with?” Disgust rolled through Annie’s expression. “You’re dead to me.”

  “Annie Grace!” Lacy cried, punctured by the hateful remark.

  “What?” A glimmer of pleasure crept into her sister’s gaze. “You don’t like hearing the truth?”

  Lacy smoothed the ruffled layers of her blouse and searched for onlookers. Eavesdroppers in these parts were as common as oxygen and sure as she was breathing, Lacy knew word would get out about her arrival and this dreadful showdown. But Lacy would not be deterred. “Annie, the truth has more sides than one. I’m sorry you’re upset with me about going to Atlanta with Jeremiah, but I thought you two had broken up.”

  Annie laughed, the sound biting to Lacy’s ears. “And I’m supposed to stand here for a lecture on the truth from someone who wouldn’t know the truth if it jumped up and smacked her on the head?”

  “Annie.”

  “Don’t Annie, me. You fibbed as a child and you fibbed as a teenager. I don’t expect it to change.”

  Tears pushed behind her eyes, but Lacy held them in check. She didn’t want to break down in front of her sister, the entire salon. It was bad enough people were staring at her from clear across the room. They didn’t have to witness her losing it completely.

  Lacy pushed back her shoulders and said plainly, “I’m sorry, Annie.”

  “You’re darn right, you are.”

  Staring into Annie’s blue eyes, the black pupils punctuated by white from an overhead drip light, Lacy’s heart fell. “This was a mistake,” she said quietly. She had hoped to make amends. She had hoped to forgive and forget and move forward with the only family she had left. Daddy was dead, Momma was gone. Annie was it.

  Lacy turned to go but stopped. Lifting her chin, she said, “I’m truly sorry about Jeremiah. If I had known you believed he was still your boyfriend, I wouldn’t have run off with him. I thought you two were over.”

  “Save it for the choir boys, will you? Your pouts don’t impress me.”

  Lacy nodded and a heavy tear burst free. “See you around,” she said, and plodded toward the door.

  “Why don’t you go back to Atlanta where you belong,” Annie flung at her back.

  Because Atlanta isn’t home. Lacy pushed out through the front door, the sun bright, the air a blanket of warmth enveloping her body. She breathed in deeply, but expelled the breath in a rush of despair. Annie hated her. Pure and simple. She hated her sister, her own flesh and blood, and would never forgive her. Tears flowed, but Lacy wiped them away. She wouldn’t give her sister the satisfaction of hurting her. She wouldn’t let Annie know how desperately she had wanted back into her life.

  Plodding to a stop, she looked both ways and waited for a slow moving truck to pass. Lacy had been lonely in Atlanta. Not alone, but lonely. Men were always ready and available, but none were interested in her for who she was, what she had to offer as a person. They only wanted what she could do for them, her manager a case in point. He’d chased her, hired her, but the minute she gave in to his advances, he became expectant. Demanding. She had to play by his rules and his rules only. Lacy crossed the street, her calves contracting tightly as she ran across the pavement in heels.

  Well, Lacy Owens played by her own rules. She was the boss of her destiny and no man, no how, was going to dictate to her what she was and was not allowed to do—especially when it came to the attention from other men. How would she ever find Mr. Right if she didn’t entertain their flirtations?

  She wouldn’t. Besides, she loved men! Men were bold and daring. They were big and strong. Joy sizzled through her veins. Men were smart. Men would help guide her to her destiny, slide over the rainbow with her and share in the treasure of gold waiting at the other end. Pressing the key fob to unlock her car door, she heaved a sigh. Some man would, anyway. Jeremiah had turned out to be a fool, but that didn’t mean all men were. Where Annie didn’t know he was a two-timing cheat, Lacy did, but she hadn’t cared. The day he asked her to join him on his way out of Ladd Springs was the day she’d believed her life would take a turn for the better. They were going to the big city, the land of opportunity.

  Unfortunately, opportunity didn’t always look the way a girl wanted it to look. Lacy dried her eyes, got into her car and drove to her Aunt Frannie’s diner. Time to break the news that her “girls” weren’t getting back together.