Safe in the Fireman's Arms (9 page)

“Maggie. Margaret. I’m named after my grandmother.”

“Two hundred tickets, was it?”

Maggie swallowed. “One hundred and forty-seven. Actually Susan bought the tickets.”

“I thought we were playing fair,” Sally-Anne said.

“Oh, come on now,” Susan responded. “You, of all people, realize that rules are out the window when it comes to firemen.

“Humph.” Sally-Anne dusted off the first throne and ushered Maggie to sit on the black leather upholstery. She snapped black latex gloves onto her hands. Then she carefully mixed tubes of color into a black bowl and began to paint sections of Maggie’s hair with a brush, before carefully folding each section in foil.

“Would you like something to drink while your hair processes?” Sally-Anne asked as she rolled the gloves off her hands.

“No. I’m fine, thanks.” Maggie sat quietly watching the other women in the shop and the procedures going on with interest. Across the room, Susan sat in a reclining chair enjoying a pedicure and a cappuccino.

Sally-Anne came over to Maggie’s chair at intervals and peeked inside the foil on her head, then nodded her approval and left again. When a buzzer signaled the color was done, Maggie was turned over to a technician at the shampoo sinks.

“The works,” Sally-Anne commanded. “Give her the deep conditioning treatment, as well.”

Once shampoo and deep conditioning were complete, a towel-headed Maggie was moved to yet another chair.

“Very nice,” Sally-Anne observed, combing out Maggie’s hair. “Wear a hat outside from now on. The Colorado sun is ruthless, especially at this elevation.”

Maggie nodded at the instructions.

“When was your last salon visit?”

“Oh, this is my first time at a salon.”

Sally-Anne choked. “Well, I hope it won’t be your last.”

“No,” Maggie murmured. She kept her eyes fixed on the laces of her sneakers as they peeked out from beneath the cape.

“You’re staying with the Joneses?”

“I’m staying at Susan’s cottage.”

“And you’ll be teaching at the high school in the fall?”

Maggie’s head jerked back. “How did you know about the job? I haven’t even interviewed yet.”

With a fingertip, Sally-Anne tilted Maggie’s head to the left. “Try not to move or you’ll end up with a très chic pixie cut.”

“But—”

“This is Paradise. The grapevine is faster than a text message.”

“Terrific.”

“How long have you known Jake?” she inquired as her thin, tapered, silver scissors snipped, snipped, snipped.

“Seven days.”

She stopped cutting. “Seven days?” Sally-Anne gave Maggie an intense scrutiny in the mirror. “And you won a date with two hundred tickets?”

“One hundred and forty-seven, and it was Susan.”

The scissors began again. Sally-Anne moved around Maggie, her eyes narrowed and her brows knit in thought as she worked.

A few minutes later the snipping stopped once more.

“He’s widowed, you know.”

The shoulders of the black plastic cape rustled as Maggie straightened in the chair. She met Sally’s eyes in the mirror.

“Our chief is a tortured soul.”

“I didn’t know,” Maggie murmured.

The blow dryer began, its white noise blocking out everything else.

Jake was widowed? Maggie sat stunned at the information. The pain she’d read in his eyes was real. He had loved and suffered the worst imaginable loss. Didn’t she feel like a horrible human being for how she’d jumped to so very many thoughtless conclusions about the man?

Oh, Lord, please forgive me and my big mouth. I’ll be nicer to Jake from now on.

If only he wouldn’t goad her. He seemed to know how to push all her buttons and he enjoyed doing it, too.

Sally-Anne circled the chair, repositioning Maggie’s head with a touch of her hand.

“What do you think?” Sally-Anne asked.

Maggie looked up in time to see Susan’s grinning face reflected in the mirror.

“You look amazing, Mags.”

With a small hand mirror, Maggie examined herself from several angles. Sally Anne was a gifted stylist. The cut flattered. Strands of caramel and golden brown hair danced on her shoulders, with wispy layers and bangs framing her face. Oh, yes. She had to admit the change was amazing.

“Do you think I can get it to do this by myself?”

“Of course. Let me recommend a line of shampoo, conditioner and style extender. Also a nice ceramic brush.” Sally-Anne reached for the supplies and placed them on the counter.

The register sang joyfully, as it tallied up the purchases. Maggie gulped as her budget flat-lined. Except when she looked at the receipt she’d only been charged for the brush, and hair products.

“This is incorrect. You undercharged me,” she said.

Sally-Anne waved a hand in dismissal. “Professional courtesy. Your cousin is a member of the Paradise Small Business Association with me. Besides, your hair is the best word-of-mouth advertisement I could ever hope for.”

“Thank you, so much,” Maggie said.

“Thank you. Remember a good haircut is like a good marriage. You do your part, and I do mine.”

“I’m not sure I can live up to my end of this...marriage. I haven’t looked this good in my entire life.” Maggie stared at herself in the mirror behind the counter. She swung her head and the layers moved and then settled in attractive disarray.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You had the basic resources to start with.”

“No. It’s all you, Sally-Anne. You’re an artist.”

Sally-Anne purred. “Now I know why Jake likes you. You’re nice, even if you are breaking the heart of every woman in Paradise who is in love with Jake MacLaughlin.”

“No. No. Jake and I... He doesn’t.”

“No worries. I didn’t say this would stop the rest of us from trying.”

Maggie couldn’t resist a laugh.

“See you at the supper,” Sally-Anne said, as she handed a hot pink shopping bag to Maggie. “Oh, and here’s a coupon for fifty percent off a manicure.”

Instinctively Maggie curled her nails into her palms. They were a mess from yard work. “Thank you.”

“Are we still on for lunch?” Susan asked as she linked her arm through Maggie’s. “My treat.”

“Sure.”

“Patti Jo’s?”

“Sounds good.”

Maggie and Susan strolled down Main Street to the corner, where the red doors of Patti Jo’s Café and Bakery welcomed them. When Susan opened the door, Aunt Betty stood on the other side.

“Mother,” Susan said. “Are you getting off work?”

“Lunch break. I saw you two coming down the street through the window. May I join you?”

“Of course,” Susan said.

“Maggie.” Aunt Betty’s eyes popped wide. “Your hair. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without a ponytail. You’ve worn a ponytail since you were a little girl. You look so different.”

“Is that good?”

Aunt Betty cocked her head and stared at her. “I think it’s good, but Maggie, you’re a beautiful woman. Are you ready for that?”

“What do you mean, Aunt B?”

“You might not be prepared for the attention you’ll be getting.”

“Mom is telling you to get used to it, Mags. Life as you know it is about to change.”

“That’s a stretch.” Maggie fingered her bangs. “But, I guess I never realized how bad I looked before.”

“You never looked bad. Simply a case of hidden potential,” Susan said.

They’d only barely slid into a high-backed booth when Susan’s phone trilled. She dug in her leather satchel and pulled out her cell. “Excuse me. I’m going to slip outside and take this.”

Maggie’s gaze wandered around the room, taking in the black-and-white tiled floor, the cute retro-style cherry-red and aluminum tables and booths. “How long have you worked here, Aunt B?”

“I only work in the spring and summer. It’s very busy when the tourists hit town and I like having a little extra cash of my own to put away for the holidays.”

Susan appeared back at the table. “I’m so sorry. A shipment just arrived and I’ve got to deal with the vendor. With the Founder’s Day supper I’ve got all sorts of merchandise I have to get on display.” She looked at Maggie. “Mom will take good care of you, Maggie.

Aunt Betty patted Maggie’s hand. “It’s okay, Susan. We’ll be fine.”

“I’ll stop by Saturday morning to help you dress for the parade.”

“I can dress myself, you know,” Maggie said.

“I’ll see you Saturday morning.” Susan waved and headed for the door.

“Susan...”

The waitress appeared at their table, cutting off Maggie’s opportunity to protest.

“What do you recommend, Aunt Betty?”

“The chicken Caesar wraps. Best in town.”

Maggie smiled at the young redheaded waitress. “Two wraps then.”

“And to drink?”

“Iced tea, please,” Maggie said.

Her aunt handed the menus to the teenage server. “I’ll have the same. Oh, and Julia, have you met my niece, Maggie?”

The girl smiled. “No, but I heard about you.”

“It wasn’t my fault!”

“Excuse me? Oh, I meant Beck. He told me that he works for you. He actually talks about you a lot.”

“You’re a friend of Beck’s?”

The teen blushed. “Yes. He’s really brilliant, isn’t he?”

“Yes. All that and something else,” Maggie agreed. “Nice to meet you, Julia.”

“You, too.”

“Wow,” Maggie said as Julia walked away, a dreamy smile on her face. “Can you say ‘crush’?”

“You think so?”

“For sure, Aunt B.”

“Young love.”

“Beck has tunnel vision. He probably has no clue.”

“Speaking of romance, Maggie, how are you doing?”

“Me? Romance?” Maggie looked up from the dessert menu. “What do you mean?”

“This Saturday is the date you would have been getting married.”

“I know. My bank account reminded me this morning.”

“Apparently you aren’t bemoaning the loss.”

“Only the dent on my savings after I sent a check to my parents for all the deposits they lost.”

“Oh, Maggie, you reimbursed your parents?”

“I was the one who ran.”

“Hmm.” Aunt Betty shot a stern frown at Maggie. “I was under the impression that the engagement and arrangements were your parents’ idea.”

“I’m thirty-two years old. I should have put my foot down before everything got out of control. And it was way out of control, believe me.” She took a small drink of water. “Anyhow. That’s behind me now.”

“Is it? Have you talked to your parents since you left?”

“No. I’m avoiding another conversation, as is my ‘head in the sand’ way.”

“Maggie, you need to check in with them.”

“I will. Sunday is Father’s Day. I’d planned to call then.”

Maggie folded and unfolded her napkin. “Aunt B, why is it I’m so different from my parents? Do you think maybe I was switched at birth?”

Aunt Betty chuckled. “I have often had similar thoughts about your Uncle Bob.”

“Uncle Bob? Why?”

“He and your father are so different.”

Maggie considered her words. “I never thought about it before, but you’re absolutely right.”

“Have you ever wondered how we live comfortably in Paradise on the income from a fix-it shop in a town of less than two thousand?”

“Well, come to think of it...”

“Your Uncle Bob is as smart as your father. Not book smart yet smart nonetheless. He simply expresses it differently. Actually, you’re a lot like him. Years ago Bob sold one of his fix-it shop projects to a big company in Denver.” Betty leaned closer and whispered. “He made a small fortune, Maggie, enough to allow him to fiddle happily with his projects for the rest of his life and not worry about the bills.”

Maggie’s eyes widened.

“So the fix-it shop is a front?”

Aunt Betty laughed again. “I guess you could say that. He loves that shop dearly.”

“I don’t blame him.”

“You’re like Bob. Smart, but in a different way than most people. You both see the world differently. Don’t despise what God has given you, dear. You’re different. Period. He made you that way for a reason. There’s no condemnation in Him. Be proud. After all, there’s only one Maggie Jones, and I think she’s pretty wonderful.”

Warmth flooded Maggie. She reached out and grasped her aunt’s hands.

“Thank you, Aunt B. I needed to hear that.”

“Good. And you know, Maggie, the future looks very promising for you, here in Paradise. You’re a new committee member of the Paradise Ladies Auxiliary.

“One step at a time, Aunt B. “I’ve only attended one meeting.”

“Trust me. You are a new member and you’ll soon be a teacher at our high school.”

“I have to interview first. Besides, I don’t even know who the other candidates are.”

“Maggie, you’ve got better qualifications than anyone working at that school.” She paused. “Actually, I don’t think there are any other applicants.”

“That’s odd.”

“No, that’s Paradise. We’re a vacation destination. Not many folks live here year-round. Keep in mind that all you have to do is stay out of trouble and you’re in.”

“You’re not the first person to say that.” Maggie shook her head. “You know, I don’t go looking for trouble. For some reason it just sort of finds me.”

Aunt Betty smiled. “I know, dear. Maybe you could try to be more alert.”

“I will.” Maggie nodded. “Um, Aunt B?”

“Yes, dear?”

“What exactly does a committee member on the Paradise Ladies Auxiliary do?”

“Why, whatever Bitsy tells you to do.”

“I was afraid of that.”

Her aunt laughed.

* * *

“Isn’t that Maggie Jones?” Duffy said as he shoved another bag of groceries into the fire truck.

“Huh? Where?” Jake picked up a twelve-pack of soda and glanced around. His gaze took in the Pay ’n Pak they’d just come out of, and moved down the street. “I don’t see her.”

“Over there in the window of Patti Jo’s, with Mrs. Jones.”

Jake turned around. “I can’t tell. They’re sitting in that high booth.”

“When she stood up a minute ago, I could see her.

“All I can see is the top of that woman’s head and there isn’t a ponytail.”

“I’m telling you, that’s Maggie.”

“Duff, you need glasses.”

“Chief, I already wear glasses.”