I’d never realized how tactful Hazel Marie could be. Listening to her ramble on about Emma Sue’s bones and complexion made me realize I’d never have made it in the beauty business.
Hazel Marie stepped back and cocked her head, surveying her work. Then she said, “Now, look in the mirror and tell me what you think.”
Emma Sue gazed at herself for so long I thought she was too stunned to say anything. She almost was. But then she almost ruined Hazel Marie’s creation as her eyes glazed over with tears.
“Oh, Hazel Marie,” she said, grabbing a Kleenex to dab at the tears before they ran streaks down her face. “I didn’t believe I could ever look this good. Thank you, thank you.” She turned and grabbed Hazel Marie’s hand. “I take back all the things I’ve ever said and thought about you.”
My eyes rolled back in my head at Emma Sue’s utter lack of common sense or tact, but Hazel Marie just smiled and said, “That’s all right. Now, let me show you a better way to wear your hair.” She took a brush and began to unsnarl Emma Sue’s teased hair, rearranging it so that it was looser and much more flattering. “Part it like this, and bring over some half-bangs, which Velma can cut for you.”
“I want you to do it,” Emma Sue said, having now put herself entirely in Hazel Marie’s expert hands. “You’re better than Velma any day of the week.”
So Hazel Marie cut her some bangs right then, poofed them up and lifted the hair around her face with a pick. I could see that Hazel Marie was a true artist, for she had transformed Emma Sue into a fairly attractive woman, something I’d thought hardly possible. At least, she no longer looked ready for viewing at the Good Shepherd Funeral Home.
But how was I going to explain this transformation to Pastor Ledbetter, who expected me to turn his wife back into the plain, unadorned woman she’d once been? Had Hazel Marie, with my approval, only made Emma Sue even less pleasing in her husband’s eyes and more pleasing to roving ones?
“Miss Julia?” Lillian stood at the door and beckoned me into the hall. When I walked out to her, she whispered, “Miz Conover pullin’ in the driveway.”
“Oh, my word,” I said, looking back at Emma Sue. “We better head her off. It’ll be all over town if she finds out what we’re doing, and I’d rather not take credit for it.
“Emma Sue,” I said, sticking my head around the door, “LuAnne Conover’s here. Why don’t you get your things together and sneak out the back door?”
Emma Sue jumped up and began gathering her coat and purse. “I’ve got to get out of here. Don’t tell her a thing, Julia. Hazel Marie’s got me looking so natural, nobody’ll know I’m wearing makeup unless somebody tells. So don’t tell.”
“We won’t,” I said, cutting my eyes at Hazel Marie, who knew as well as I did that nobody would be fooled after one look at Emma Sue’s face. It was such a pleasant change, you know.
As Lillian and Hazel Marie hurried Emma Sue through the back hall and toward the kitchen door, the front doorbell rang. I went to answer it and welcome LuAnne in.
“Julia,” she said as soon as I unlatched the storm door, “I’m so full of news I can hardly stand it. Some good, some not so good. How are you, anyway. Let me sit down, I’m all out of breath.”
“Have a seat, LuAnne,” I said, gesturing toward the sofa. “Let me take your umbrella. I’ll tell you, I’m ready for some good news for a change. What’s going on?”
“Well,” she said, plopping down on the sofa, her hands all aflutter. “First off, have you heard about that Christian theme park somebody’s putting up?”
“Yes, I have.”
“Oh, shoo, Julia, you’re no fun. But listen, it’s going to be the grandest thing. I’ve always wanted to walk where Jesus walked, but as you know, Leonard wouldn’t go overseas for all the tea in China. He is such a stick in the mud, but now I’ll get to go to the Holy Land right here in Abbot County. It’s going to be a big draw for tourists, and Mayor Beebee’s behind it one hundred percent. Everybody’s thrilled out of their minds.”
“Not quite everybody, but I expect it’ll draw a certain type of tourist. I just hope they don’t create a carnival atmosphere in town. We don’t need that.”
“Oh, you always see the dark side of things. But, now, let me tell you what else I’ve heard. Emma Sue Ledbetter’s going around town made up like you wouldn’t believe. Somebody ought to show her how to put on makeup. The poor thing doesn’t know how awful she looks.”
I nodded. “She’ll get the hang of it sooner or later.”
“It better be sooner, or she’s going to be a laughing stock. Listen, Julia, something’s going on with that woman, and I hate to think what it might be. You’ve heard about Norma Cantrell, haven’t you?”
I nodded again. “Just a word or two about the mayor.”
“Well, don’t believe everything you hear, because from what I heard, that’s all off. It was never anything but a fling anyway.” LuAnne brushed that aside, as if flings were beneath the notice of sophisticates such as herself. Then she leaned over to whisper her next piece of news. “They say she’s really got her eye on the pastor. Can you believe that?”
“I’ve always wondered about her,” I said, trying to be careful of what I said, knowing it would be relayed up one side of Main Street and down the other. “But I can’t believe he’d look twice at her or anybody else. He’s a God-fearing man, LuAnne, and we ought to be careful of linking his name with another woman.”
“Julia,” she snapped, “you don’t need to lecture me. I’m not making this stuff up. I’m just repeating what everybody’s talking about because I thought you’d appreciate knowing about it. I mean, he
is
our preacher, and we ought to be doing something about all the gossip swirling around him. And his wife.”
“I certainly agree. So now that’s taken care of, what else is going on?”
She looked down at her lap, where for once her hands were resting there without a twitch. Then she glanced up at me. “Well, I don’t know if I ought to tell you this or not. I know it’ll upset you.”
“For goodness sake, LuAnne, don’t start something you can’t finish. If you didn’t think I should hear it, why bring it up? But now that you have, just tell me.”
Her eyes darted around the room, as she realized she’d gone too far to back out. “I want you to know that I don’t believe it for a minute, but the rumor’s already going around.”
“What is it?” I said, trying to prepare myself since, with all this buildup, it had to be about me. Then I smiled, for I figured the word was out about Sam and me. Somebody must’ve put two and two together, especially if Sam had told somebody he’d popped the question. As for my answer, I was still keeping my decision close to my breast, wanting it to be my own precious secret for a while longer. “I think I know, LuAnne, but nobody knows what I’m going to do about it.”
“I know what
I’d
do,” LuAnne said with some heat. “I’d wring her neck.”
“Who? What’re you talking about?”
“That woman who’s come to town with the Walk Where Jesus Walked outfit. I heard that she’s living in a trailer with the man who’s in charge of it. His common law wife, they say.” She frowned. “I just hope that doesn’t reflect on the spirituality of the theme park.”
“It could hardly help, LuAnne. If it’s true. But what does their living arrangement have to do with me?”
“Oh, nothing,” she said, as her hands started fluttering. “Really. It’s just, well, I might as well tell you since you’re going to hear it sooner or later anyway. Now, don’t get mad at me, Julia, but the word is that she’s another girlfriend of . . . ,” she leaned forward and whispered, “you-know-who.”
=
Chapter 7’
My heart lurched to one side and I gripped the arm of my chair.
“No, I don’t know,” I snapped, as pain clutched at my chest at the thought of Sam in the company of another woman. I didn’t want to hear it, but I asked anyway, “Who’re you talking about, LuAnne?”
“Well, you know.” Then she scooted to the edge of the sofa and hissed, “Wesley Lloyd. Your
husband.
”
If I’d been standing, my knees would’ve given way on me, both in relief that it wasn’t Sam and in anguish that more of Wesley Lloyd’s unsavory deeds were coming to light. As it was, an icy chill seeped into my insides, and all I could think about was getting rid of LuAnne so I could crawl into a corner and cover my head. But I dared not show my consternation, for I knew she’d describe my reaction to the next person she met.
Could it be true? Well, yes, it could. But true or not, it hardly mattered. What mattered was the talk, and who the talk would hurt. I had to try to stop it before it spread throughout the town and ended up hurting Hazel Marie and Little Lloyd. Lord, the child could suffer lasting damage from hearing such a thing about his father, whether or not it was true.
Once a person is tarred with the brush of adultery, people would say: He did it once, so it stands to reason he’d do it again. And we all knew he’d done it once. Little Lloyd was the proof.
“I know who Wesley Lloyd is, or was, LuAnne,” I said, trying to disguise my sinking feelings and show her that what she’d passed on didn’t bother me at all. “And I hardly think that he would’ve taken up with some town-to-town carnival woman. How in the world would he have known her?”
“Well, see, that’s the thing,” she said. “She used to live here. At least, that’s what they say. She’s a Mooney, and there’re a lot of Mooneys out in the county.”
“Yes, and not a one worth the rope to hang them. Now, LuAnne, I don’t know how this rumor got started, but I don’t think you ought to go around spreading it any further.”
I knew that would make her mad, for she stiffened noticeably and said, “I should think you’d appreciate being told what’s going around, but I see that you don’t. All I’m trying to do is be a friend and let you know what everybody’s talking about. And, believe me, they
are
talking.” She stood up and pulled her raincoat together. “At least,
this
time you won’t be the last one in town to know what he was up to.”
That was a jab at my prideful ignorance where Hazel Marie and Little Lloyd were concerned, whom I hadn’t known about until after Wesley Lloyd was six feet under.
“I do appreciate it, LuAnne,” I said, standing, too, and hoping she’d take herself out of my sight so I could try to deal with this devastating news. “You are a dear friend and, as such, I hope you’ll do everything you can to put a stop to these hurtful rumors. I, for one, don’t believe them. And since Wesley Lloyd’s been out of circulation for so long, I can’t imagine why anybody’d be interested enough to listen to them. And I’ll tell you this, I don’t know why that woman doesn’t stand up for herself and put a stop to them.”
“Money, Julia,” she said. “Which is another reason I wanted you to know about her. I mean, she has to know, like everybody else does, what a gold mine Hazel Marie fell into, and for no other reason than taking up with your husband. So why wouldn’t she try for the same thing—especially if she claims to have a child? What other reason would she have to come back here? And to think that she’s part of a Christian organization.”
“I’m having my doubts about how Christian that organization is,” I said, as another kind of dread swept through me. Wesley Lloyd’s estate had already been rent asunder once, and I had no desire to see it divvied up again.
“Now, Julia,” LuAnne said, as she tucked her pocketbook under her arm. “You can’t blame a whole organization for the actions of one person in it.”
“That’s very true,” I said, thinking of the church and the activities of some of its members.
“One other thing,” LuAnne said, turning back. “People who remember when she used to live here, they’re saying that she had a reputation then for being somewhat free with her favors. And not too picky about who she favored, either. So, if it helps, maybe Wesley Lloyd wasn’t the only one.” She got a far-off look in her eyes. Then she shook herself, and headed toward the door.
I bade her good-bye and thanked her for her thoughtfulness in passing along a stab in the heart, although I didn’t put it quite that way. She left with a smile on her face, confident that she’d done her duty as a friend.
I closed the door and leaned against it. What in the world was I going to do about another of Wesley Lloyd’s escapades? Lord, the man had been as randy as a rooster, except in his own coop, and all unbeknownst to me. That said a lot about our marriage. Distant was the best description of it. I just hadn’t known how distant.
Now, I had to deal with another woman who’d popped up out of the past, long after I thought he’d been put in his grave and out of my hair. It had been all I could do to withstand the gossip when Wesley Lloyd’s supposedly secret life became the town topic the first time. Now, I’d have to withstand it for Hazel Marie, as well as for myself. Again.
And Little Lloyd! My stomach tightened up as an awful dread swept over me at the thought of what that child would have to endure if his schoolmates got wind of this. To say nothing of what he would suffer inside himself just by knowing of his father’s inability to keep his trousers on.
The telephone rang, sending a jolt of fear through me. If it was someone else calling to tell me what I didn’t want to hear, I just wouldn’t answer it. Lillian could tell the caller that I was indisposed, which I certainly was. But the silence stretched out and I heard no summons to the phone. Feeling some relief to have a moment to myself, I collapsed on the sofa where LuAnne had delivered her news.
I sighed from the bottom of my soul, wondering if I had the stamina to go through it all again. It had not been easy the first time, but I’d managed to overcome my distaste of Wesley Lloyd’s commingling with Hazel Marie for, as I got to know her, I’d begun to think that he’d fallen in love with her sweet disposition, in spite of himself. But I’d gradually become convinced that he’d thought no more of Hazel Marie than he had of me. Add another woman to the mix, and my conviction was more than confirmed.
With a burning ache in my heart, I pushed myself off the sofa and walked purposefully toward the kitchen. If I could spare Hazel Marie any of the anger and humiliation I was feeling, I would. The first thing I needed to do was to find out what I could about the Mooney woman and put a stop to whatever she had in mind. And, if she did come up with a child and expect me to recognize it as Wesley Lloyd’s, why, I’d just show her his will, which made no mention of any offspring, other than Little Lloyd. And
then,
I thought, as I stomped through the dining room, make sure the woman knew she wasn’t due one red cent for having crawled into bed with Wesley Lloyd Springer.