Beauty Shop Tales

He laughs. “It’s a nasty urban legend then.”

“Yep, and too bad because if there’s one thing the fine people of Sago Beach definitely need, it’s a good, strong infusion of caffeine.”

His back is to the shop’s large picture window, which my mother is now cleaning with a wad of paper towels and a bottle of Windex. She catches my eye.

Suddenly I wish I could take back everything I’d just said.

Who am I to judge?

So snarky.

So superior.

I didn’t mean to be so harsh. Even though that wasn’t always the case. Before I left seventeen years ago, it seemed to me as if all the locals were walking in their sleep. Sometimes I wanted to give them all a good hard shake and yell, Wake up! Don’t you see that there’s so much more to life than this?

Now, here I am back with the best of them. I didn’t exactly set the world ablaze. I guess some might say the laugh’s on me.

Mama motions across the street, and mouths Go! She points to her watch.

One word comes to mind: fishbowl. Again, guilt tugs at me as I weigh the pros and cons of coming home.

“But I suppose good coffee is judged by the buds of the taster,” I say.

He nods, puts on his hat. “Well then, why don’t we go to the Sago Diner and I’ll decide for myself?”

As we wait for a car to pass before we cross the street I ask, “Are you in town on business?”

“Nope, just came over to see you.” He jerks a thumb toward the banner. “To ask you to that Founder’s Day dance they’re advertising. That is if you don’t already have a date.”

Oh. This makes me squirm. It makes me feel strange, as if I’m being unfaithful to Chet.

“Well, that’s a long way off.”

He nods, but doesn’t look convinced.

I’m not ready for a man to commute to see me.

I’m not ready to date anyone. Period.

Even if he lives next door.

We cross the street in silence because suddenly I can’t think of a thing to say.

I’m glad he doesn’t push the dance, but I also have this horror-flash that we’re in for a round of bad coffee and stilted conversation because I feel clumsy and tongue-tied.

Harry Philby walks out of the bakery and stops, blatantly eyeing Max up and down. We pass Jillian Lamb and Karen Foster on the sidewalk on the way to the diner. I mumble a quick hello and keep walking because I don’t want to be forced to introduce Max.

In the split second as we pass them, I’m sure I see them look at each other, registering: Avril’s taken up with a stranger. Husband’s been dead less than a year. How disrespectful to Chet.

Tanya Adams comes out of the coffee shop as we start to enter. Max holds open the door. Her bulky frame blocks the way, so we have no choice but to stop and talk.

“Well, howdy-do, Avril. Good to see you, sweetie. I’m sorry I couldn’t make the party the other night. Hal was home with the creeping crud. Men. They’re such babies when they get sick.”

She eyes Max as if he’s the special of the day at Howard Tilly’s butcher shop. “And who might we have here?”

She virtually licks her lips.

I stand there frozen because, for the life of me, I can’t remember Max’s last name.

“Max Wright.” He holds out his hand and smiles.

She grips his fingers and titters, her double chin wobbling like a turkey waddle.

“Did you come home from California with Avril?”

“Yes, I did, as a matter of fact.”

I flinch. “Well, not exactly with me. I met Mr. Wright on the plane.”

This time I cringe.

Mr. Wright sounds like Mr. Right. Oh, for the love of—

“Well, is that so? How romantic! Some girls wait their entire lives and never meet Mr. Right. You’re lucky enough to have had two Mr. Rights. You lead a charmed life, ladybug.”

“No, that’s not what I—”

“Now, don’t you worry what anyone might say about it being too soon to jump back into that dating pool. This is not the Victorian age. Chet would’ve wanted this for you.”

“Tanya, Max and I are not—”

“Baby doll, you don’t have to explain to me or anyone else. It’s none of nobody’s business what you two are doing. You’re both consenting adults.” She jabs a chubby finger at Max. “You just be sure you treat her right if you know what’s good for you. She’s been through too much heartbreak already. There’s a lot of people around here who’ll skin you alive if you hurt our Avril.”

He crosses his arms and flashes a smile.

“Oh, my intentions are perfectly honorable. Don’t you worry about that.”

I’m absolutely immobilized by the scene unfolding in front of me. Immobilized and horrified. I want to say something. I know I should say something.

For that matter, why doesn’t Mr. Right-Wright set her straight instead of egging her on?

“Oh, would you look at the time,” says Tanya. “I have to run.” She cocks her head to the side and flashes a coy grin. “Mr. Right. Oh, it’s so romantic. You kids restore my faith in love. Toodles.”

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