The Ladies' Room (6 page)

When she brought her chin down, her eyes had gone blank.
Past, present, and future would be mixed up together as if
she'd tossed them into a blender and pushed the puree button.
She whispered, "Gert should have known better than to marry that Lonnie. Forty is too old to be a bride, and him ten years
younger. He wants her money, but she's a smart girl, that
Gert is."

"Nice warm morning," Lessie said as she sat down in a chair
next to Momma. Her back was as straight as it had been when
she was fifteen, and her hair boasted very little gray.

Momma smiled at Lessie. "It is, isn't it? Did you know that
Gert died and left Trudy her house? Trudy was married at one
time, but her husband died. She keeps a lock on his bedroom
door. I never figured out why, but she does"

Lessie sat down beside Momma and winked at me. "Yes, I
was sorry that Gert died. Marty also told us you've moved
into her house."

"Marty was here?" I was amazed.

Lessie nodded. "Last night. Came to see about a job. This
place needs an activities director. Someone to fix up a party
once a month and to help us old codgers paint flowerpots.
Your mother and I were sitting in the lounge watching a rerun
of The Golden Girls. That one where Blanche's daddy dies
and she gets crossways with her sister and won't go to the
funeral. Marty stopped and visited for a minute on her way
out. I think she was too late. They hired someone yesterday
morning."

Lessie's mind was still good, but she had diabetes, congestive heart failure, arthritis, and a whole host of other physical problems. Momma's little body was in perfect shape, but
Alzheimer's had robbed her of her mind.

"Blanche was sorry she didn't go to Big Daddy's funeral.
I'm sorry I didn't go to Drew's funeral, but I never liked
that man. I might have spit in his dead face," Momma said
seriously.

"Momma, you always loved Drew," I reminded her.

"I'm a good pretender." She shot me a puzzled look. "Who
are you? I'm waiting for Trudy. She'll be home from school
for lunch soon. I'm making her grilled cheese sandwiches and
real fried potatoes" She turned to Lessie. "Are you the new
maid? If you are, then be sure and clean the toilet better than
you did last week"

Lessie took her arm. "Yes, ma'am, I am the new maid. You
come on with me, and we'll go look at that toilet right now."
She whispered to me, "I'll get her back to her room. Tomorrow-might be a better day."

"I hope so," I said.

"Glad to hear you're going to live in Gert's house. There
ain't no use in talkin' about the reason you made that decision. Just get on with your life. You're still young and pretty."

At ninety plus, Lessie would probably classify any almostforty-year-old woman as young and pretty, but I appreciated
the compliment.

I hit a button that opened the back door into the activities
and physical therapy room, and we all three filed into the
nursing home. Lessie and Momma slowly made their way
across the room and down the hall to the right. I went on
through the visitors' lounge and punched in the code to open
the front door, only to find that the code had been changed. A
nurse's aide came along and poked in the right numbers to let
me out.

While she pushed the buttons, I checked my reflection in
the door glass. I hardly recognized the woman looking back at
me. She wore Aunt Gert's jeans rolled up at the hems and a
T-shirt with a sequined butterfly across the chest. A few sequins had long since flown away in the Oklahoma wind, but
several hanging threads gave testimony to the fact that they'd
once sparkled there. Her long brown hair was tied back in a
ponytail at the nape of her neck with a red silk scarf, and her
green eyes looked tired. I rather liked the new, strange woman
in the glass, even with the tired eyes, but it wasn't any wonder
that Momma hadn't recognized me.

"Thank you," I told the aide.

She smiled. "You're welcome. Your mother is a sweetheart.
I love her style."

"I just wish she had more good days"

"Even when she doesn't know any of us, she still looks like
a fashion queen. You do well keeping her all dolled up," she
said.

I could have hugged the woman. "Thank you for noticing.
You have a nice day."

"You too," she said as the door closed between us.

When I opened the car, a blast of heat hit me in the face,
blowing strands of hair to stick to my cheeks and forehead. It
didn't take long to get the engine going, the air conditioner
running full speed, and to decide that I was cutting my hair.
The only reason I had kept it long was for Drew.

I drove through Milburn, Emit, and Nida, which was basically a church and a few scattered homes. Then it was on to
Durant. The idea of stopping to talk to Crystal about her decision to get married on the sly did cross my mind, but I had a
war to fight with her father, and I couldn't do battle on two
fronts at once.

When I arrived at Walmart, there was no waiting line in the
beauty shop. I waltzed in, hopped up into a chair, and pointed
to a picture on the wall of a young girl with too much eye
shadow and bright red lipstick. She wore black leather and
looked like a rock star. "I want it all cut off like that."

The hairdresser flipped a plastic cape around my shoulders.
"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. Only don't leave so much on the sides. Cut it
above my ears. I want to be able to wash it and go. I'm sick of
straightening irons and blow-dryers."

..You have a lot of curl for that cut. It's going to kink up all
over your head"

"And I'm going to love it. I wore it like that in high school."

She removed the red silk scarf and brushed out a tangled
mess of long, frizzy curls. "Why did you let it grow long?"

"Because my husband liked long hair."

She giggled. "Fighting with him, are you?"

"No, but I'm going to be very soon"

I flinched when she gathered up my long hair and laid the
scissors to it.

"Want to change your mind?"

"No. Cut it off."

In twenty minutes it was short and kinky. My head felt lighter than it had in years. Too bad my heart was still a heavy chunk
of rock in my chest. I paid the woman and added a tip, found
a shopping cart, and was headed toward the clothing section
when I heard my daughter's voice.

"Mother, what have you done?" Crystal gasped.

"I had my hair cut. What do you think?"

"Daddy is going to have a fit. He hates your hair short.
That's why your senior picture isn't hanging in the hallway.
I'm not coming home to visit you two until you grow it out
again"

The battle had arrived whether I was ready or not. It was
either fight or slink into a corner, and I was tired of that business. "Too bad, then. I'm keeping it this way forever."

Her nose wrinkled up in disgust. "And your clothes? You
look like Aunt Gert"

"That's because these used to belong to Aunt Gert. I missed
you at the funeral yesterday."

My daughter wore a cute little pair of jean shorts, a Vegas
T-shirt, and fancy sandals, and she carried a purse that likely
would have cost half of my teacher's-aide paycheck. Her light
brown hair had been recently cut and highlighted with blond
streaks.

"Was that yesterday? I wouldn't have come even if I'd
remembered. I hate funerals. But why are you wearing her
clothes?"

"You got time to have lunch with me? I'll tell you all about
it." When opportunity knocks, you don't leave it standing on
the doorstep. You invite it in and feed it chocolate cake. That's
what Aunt Gert used to say.

She blushed. "No, I've got ... Actually, I'm just picking up
some shampoo and conditioner and..

"Oh, don't get your panties into a wad. I know you and
Jonah went to Vegas and got married. I don't like it, but evidently my opinion doesn't matter."

She tilted her head up and looked down her aristocratic
nose at me. "I can't have this conversation now."

"Me, either. I've got underwear to buy. I'm at Aunt Gert'sno, I can't say that anymore. I'm at my house, but it's still listed under Gertrude Martin in the phone book. Call that
number if you need me "" I pushed my cart around her.

She grabbed the cart and glared at me, those pretty blue
eyes flashing enough anger to light up the whole Walmart
store. "You're going to tell me right now what is going on!"

I gave the cart a jerk. "I'm not having this conversation
here. If you want to talk, you can come to lunch with me. Otherwise, run along and buy your shampoo. We'll discuss it another
day."

I left her digging in her purse for her cell phone, no doubt to
call her father, but right then she could have been tattling to
Saint Peter and I wouldn't have cared. On my way to buy underwear, I passed the window air conditioners, hauled the
cheapest one down off the shelf, and set it into my cart. I'd
be cool in the guest bedroom at night until central heat and airconditioning was installed. Billy Lee would most likely tell
me the whole place had to be rewired before we could think
about something that luxurious.

Cato's dress shop was located next to Walmart. A few minutes in there netted me a couple of dresses to wear to church:
a bright red one with a parrot embroidered on the hem and
across the back of the jacket, and a more subdued canary yellow with a Hawaiian-print, short-sleeved jacket. No more
black silk for this girl. Lessie had said I was young and pretty.
Besides, look what expensive black suits had gotten me: a husband who cheated with girls who wore bright colors.

I bought red leather slides with kitten heels and a pair of
cute little flats in hot pink that matched a flower in the Hawaiian print. I wasn't slinking into church the next day. The old
Trudy had died in the church bathroom. She was now a new
woman who didn't need to be "poor" anymore or have her
heart blessed, either. That's when I saw a beautiful hot pink
hat. It would provide the crowning glory to my new outfit, so
I bought it too.

I wouldn't have noticed the rack of Capri-length bibbed overalls if there hadn't been a line at the checkout counter. I found
two pair in size sixteen and grabbed a couple of sleeveless
tank tops to wear under them, one orange and one turquoise.

It was two o'clock when I got back to Tishomingo, and I
hadn't had anything to eat since breakfast. I whipped into the
SONIC and ordered a foot-long hot dog with chili and cheese
and a side order of Tater Tots. I rolled down the windows and
ate in the car rather than taking the food home.

When I pulled up under the carport in the backyard, Billy
Lee was coming through the opening in the hedge with a
notebook in his hands. I took a long look at the house and seriously contemplated buying a box of dynamite, blasting the
place, and letting it rain pieces all over town. Then I'd cash in
all those assets Aunt Gert had left me and disappear off to
a beach with white sand and no cellular service. That way I
wouldn't have to have a conversation with Drew, Crystal, my
cousins, or Billy Lee.

"Hey." Billy Lee's pale blue eyes lit up.

He stopped beside the car and flipped open his notebook on
the hood. "So, you ready to see my ideas?"

"I guess I am" I looked at the air conditioner in the backseat and longed for a cool breeze. The wind blows constantly
in Oklahoma until the first day of June, and then a body can't
buy, borrow, or steal a gust of it until after Labor Day. That's
because it's so hot in June, July, and August that any amount
of wind would cook the flesh off our bones. Daddy used to say
that even the lizards carried canteens over one shoulder and
a machine gun over the other during the summer months. The
machine gun was to take out anyone who looked sideways at
the water jugs.

Billy Lee nodded toward the house as he pointed to his
drawings. "The way I see it is that we have someone come in
first and redo all the windows. They're older than Methuselah,
and we need central heat and air. All that bought air will escape out those old wooden sashes. I've got some estimates
here on new ones that open to the inside for easy cleaning and
will still keep the look of the house"

He already had that "we" business down pat. I forgot all
about dynamite when he flipped a few pages and showed me a
before-and-after picture in a brochure of a house where that kind of windows had been installed. He had my undivided attention after that.

"While the window people are here, the electricians can
be rewiring the whole place and getting it ready for airconditioning. I see you've got one of those little units in your
backseat. Guess that's for your bedroom. You'll have to run
an extension cord from the outlet attached to the light fixture
in the ceiling, since there are no plugs on the walls in any of
the upstairs rooms. Gert had one put in the kitchen so she
could hook up a microwave. The rest of the house is wired
only for lighting."

"Good grief!" I was glad I'd had my hair cut. I would have
had to unplug the microwave every morning to plug in my
hair straightener.

"If you'll trust me to get the ball rolling, I can probably get
things started on Monday morning."

"Fine," I agreed.

With one word I had just put my trust in Billy Lee-after
I'd vowed never to trust another man for anything.

"While they're working on that, I'll start rebuilding the
front porch. It's a wonder Gert didn't fall through those rotten
boards. And all the gingerbread around the eaves and dormers
needs to be removed and stripped of all that nasty peeling
paint and refinished. You'll need to decide what colors you
want to use on the house and the trim while I get it ready to
paint. Hopefully we'll get all that done by fall, and then we'll
begin on the inside. That'll give you lots of time to clean it out.
By the way, why are you living here without your husband?"

"I want the house a soft yellow and all the trim white like it
was in the beginning. I want to take out the wall between the
living room and dining room and make it airy and light. I
want a new bathroom upstairs, so we will need a plumber, and
I want a bathroom put in downstairs. Part of the back porch
off the kitchen can be turned into a bathroom, can't it? And
I'm divorcing my husband, Billy Lee"