longingly at the door before obediently sitting next to Myrtle.
“It’s awful, isn’t it? It makes a body wonder what this world is coming to.” Prissy’s shiver seemed more excited than frightened.
Myrtle scanned the Beauty Box to see if any guilty faces peered her way. She hoped to have one anguished soul yearning to unload its ghastly secrets. To her disappointment, the roaring air conditioner and the droning domed dryers drowned out her conversation with Prissy.
Myrtle cupped her ear. “I’ve forgotten to put in my hearing aid this morning. Can’t hear a thing without my ears. Could you speak up for me, sweetie?” she yelled.
Prissy cleared her throat. “I said that I wonder what this world is coming to.” She clicked her false teeth nervously.
Myrtle bellowed, “That poor girl. Killed right in the prime of her life.”
Regulars and walk-ins stared at Myrtle with interest. She looked innocently around the room, gauging reactions to the high-volume conversation. Kat said mildly, “Tammy wasn’t exactly what I’d call a helpless victim, Miss Myrtle.”
Could this conversation even be heard above the din? Myrtle shrugged helplessly. “Could someone translate, loudly? I forgot my ears this morning.”
Bootsie Davenport rolled her eyes. “Tammy was sweet and sour, Myrtle. And we saw nothing but sour lately. Nobody’s crying themselves to sleep over Tammy.”
Dina Peters burst into noisy sobbing. “But she was my only friend and I miss her. Oh, Tammy!” She flung her head down on the manicure table, frizzy curls quivering with histrionics.
Agnes Walker patted Dina gingerly, trying not to smear newly-applied Cocktail Carnival red polish on Dina’s thin shoulder. “Dina, everything will work out—you’ll see. Here, you mentioned wanting to experiment with dyeing. Want me to schedule an appointment with you? The only way to move ahead in this world is to try new things.”
This was very rash of Agnes and just went to show how desperate she was to distract Dina. Hopefully she was planning on Dina coloring her hair gray or slightly blue. She couldn’t imagine the old lady as a blonde or redhead. Dina blinked at her, thinking it over, then started howling again before running out of the room.
Agnes frowned reprovingly at Myrtle. “Look what you’ve done now! You’re meddling, Myrtle. Did you have to bring up the topic of Tammy?”
“I’m not meddling. I’m simply talking about what happened.”
Agnes glowered at Myrtle. “I think you need a vacation, Myrtle Clover.”
Myrtle smiled brightly. “Want to come with me?”
“No, I do not, as you well know. I told you my traveling days are over.” Agnes whipped a book from her pocketbook, reading it with determination.
The customers were silent for a few minutes before the idle chatter resolutely resumed. This was the South, where outbursts were politely ignored first and gossiped over later. Prissy, all genteel confusion, had exited. Bootsie admired her fresher, less-matronly, Kat-inspired hairdo until her cell phone belted out its rap song ringtone. Agnes blew on her nails to dry them. Myrtle regarded the visit as a total bust. The exception came when Kat received a bouquet of flowers and a card that made her blush. At least her matchmaking was working out well. She hummed the old hymn under her breath.
Myrtle picked up Good Housekeeping again, flipping to the recipes. Finding a tasty prospect, she scanned the shop furtively, tore the page out, and stuck it in her bottomless pocketbook. You just never knew when another in-sympathy casserole might be necessary.
Myrtle offered to listen out for Jack, who was napping, while Elaine ran errands. It was also time for Tomorrow’s Promise , which was Myrtle’s favorite soap opera. Red came through the back door, looking grouchy and hungry. He opened his mouth to say something to Myrtle, but she lifted her hand to hush him. Soleil was just about to tell Rohan that she’d always loved
“It’s awful, isn’t it? It makes a body wonder what this world is coming to.” Prissy’s shiver seemed more excited than frightened.
Myrtle scanned the Beauty Box to see if any guilty faces peered her way. She hoped to have one anguished soul yearning to unload its ghastly secrets. To her disappointment, the roaring air conditioner and the droning domed dryers drowned out her conversation with Prissy.
Myrtle cupped her ear. “I’ve forgotten to put in my hearing aid this morning. Can’t hear a thing without my ears. Could you speak up for me, sweetie?” she yelled.
Prissy cleared her throat. “I said that I wonder what this world is coming to.” She clicked her false teeth nervously.
Myrtle bellowed, “That poor girl. Killed right in the prime of her life.”
Regulars and walk-ins stared at Myrtle with interest. She looked innocently around the room, gauging reactions to the high-volume conversation. Kat said mildly, “Tammy wasn’t exactly what I’d call a helpless victim, Miss Myrtle.”
Could this conversation even be heard above the din? Myrtle shrugged helplessly. “Could someone translate, loudly? I forgot my ears this morning.”
Bootsie Davenport rolled her eyes. “Tammy was sweet and sour, Myrtle. And we saw nothing but sour lately. Nobody’s crying themselves to sleep over Tammy.”
Dina Peters burst into noisy sobbing. “But she was my only friend and I miss her. Oh, Tammy!” She flung her head down on the manicure table, frizzy curls quivering with histrionics.
Agnes Walker patted Dina gingerly, trying not to smear newly-applied Cocktail Carnival red polish on Dina’s thin shoulder. “Dina, everything will work out—you’ll see. Here, you mentioned wanting to experiment with dyeing. Want me to schedule an appointment with you? The only way to move ahead in this world is to try new things.”
This was very rash of Agnes and just went to show how desperate she was to distract Dina. Hopefully she was planning on Dina coloring her hair gray or slightly blue. She couldn’t imagine the old lady as a blonde or redhead. Dina blinked at her, thinking it over, then started howling again before running out of the room.
Agnes frowned reprovingly at Myrtle. “Look what you’ve done now! You’re meddling, Myrtle. Did you have to bring up the topic of Tammy?”
“I’m not meddling. I’m simply talking about what happened.”
Agnes glowered at Myrtle. “I think you need a vacation, Myrtle Clover.”
Myrtle smiled brightly. “Want to come with me?”
“No, I do not, as you well know. I told you my traveling days are over.” Agnes whipped a book from her pocketbook, reading it with determination.
The customers were silent for a few minutes before the idle chatter resolutely resumed. This was the South, where outbursts were politely ignored first and gossiped over later. Prissy, all genteel confusion, had exited. Bootsie admired her fresher, less-matronly, Kat-inspired hairdo until her cell phone belted out its rap song ringtone. Agnes blew on her nails to dry them. Myrtle regarded the visit as a total bust. The exception came when Kat received a bouquet of flowers and a card that made her blush. At least her matchmaking was working out well. She hummed the old hymn under her breath.
Myrtle picked up Good Housekeeping again, flipping to the recipes. Finding a tasty prospect, she scanned the shop furtively, tore the page out, and stuck it in her bottomless pocketbook. You just never knew when another in-sympathy casserole might be necessary.
Myrtle offered to listen out for Jack, who was napping, while Elaine ran errands. It was also time for Tomorrow’s Promise , which was Myrtle’s favorite soap opera. Red came through the back door, looking grouchy and hungry. He opened his mouth to say something to Myrtle, but she lifted her hand to hush him. Soleil was just about to tell Rohan that she’d always loved
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