Authors: Brenda Bevan Remmes
“Are you having alcohol at that?” Billie asked?
“Of course! You think a house of KA brothers would show up for lemonade? And then, there’s
my
mom and dad. Do you realize how close I am to a nervous breakdown?”
“Speaking of alcohol…” Billie refilled
her glass and popped the cork on another bottle, “I’ve always found that a little more wine makes the world a bit rosier.”
Billie poured another round and Maggie took a swallow, raised her glass and said,
“Call your friend. If she can come over tonight, ask her to bring her clippers and we’ll go down to one inch. Leave a little something up there for me to run my fingers through.”
*****
Liz made the call.
“Great, this is going to be fun,” Debbie said with what Liz feared might be a bit too much enthusiasm from the other end of the line
. “I’ll bring the tequila and be there in an hour.”
“Okay, ladies,” Liz said, “to the kitchen
. We’re going to put together a party.”
Kitchen cabinets were emptied, the liquor cabinet sacked
. They grabbed anything and everything that Maggie expressed the least bit of interest in eating. Two frozen pizza went in the oven. There were chips. Billie whipped up a dip from sour cream and dried onion soup. Liz found some pimentos and made some pimento cheese for crackers. There was an unopened jar of olives in the back cabinet. Nuts were in the liquor cabinet, and glory be, there was Cointreau that had never been opened, probably a bottle someone had given the Judge.
As promised, Debbie arrived an hour later loaded down
. In addition to tequila she brought limes, music tapes, wigs, mirrors, capes and a clipper with several guards that could cut to a specified length. Liz met her at the door as she burst in overloaded with bags. It looked as if she had just arrived home for the holidays. Squeezed into a pair of skin-tight plaid shorts and a white T-shirt that hid nothing, she wore a Dolly Parton wig the size of a ten gallon hat on her head. She hollered out, “Howdee, y’all ready to partee?”
“
This
is Debbie Bradshaw,” Liz said with a majestic wave. Billie’s mouth dropped open and Maggie shot a look of total disbelief at Liz. The thought occurred to Liz that she hadn’t done anything to prepare them.
“Let m
e help you with all of that.” Billie jumped to assist.
“Thank you,
hon,” Debbie said to Billie. “Love that outfit. Can you get those blousy things at K-Mart?”
Billie appeared taken aback
. The idea that anyone would suggest she shopped at K-Mart startled her, but it didn’t matter. Debbie had already moved on to the next topic. “Where’s the tape deck?” Billie pointed to the corner cabinet.
“Liz, I need a little help for just a minute,” Maggie said and motioned her to the downstairs bedroom
. Liz followed. “
That
is the woman who is going to cut my hair?” Her face had turned pink. “I think
not
. Where on earth did you find her?”
“Look, Maggie
. If you don’t want her to cut your hair, she won’t. Just tell her you changed your mind. But I promise you, if you decide you want her to, she’ll do a great job.”
“Yeah, you, who have never let her touch your own.”
Dolly Parton’s “9 to 5”
burst forth from the adjoining room and there was a tap on the door. “Don’t want to bother you girls, but I thought I’d get started on the margaritas. You said you had some Cointreau stuff?”
“I’ll get
it for you, Debbie. Come on.” Liz motioned her towards the kitchen.
“I brought my own music, honey
. Hope y’all don’t mind.”
“Whatever,” Maggie said rather rudely.
Liz ushered Debbie back into the den. She figured it would be best to leave Maggie alone to pull herself together.
Debbie strutted a bit and shook her head so the curls swung around her neck
. “This one’s my favorite. I brought three others, though. You can take your pick.”
“Do you actually wea
r those things out in public?” Billie asked, a bit subdued as she was momentarily out-bedazzled by Debbie’s fashion statement.
“Lord yes, honey, every Friday and Saturday night at Billy Bob’s Dance Barn
. Them cowboys love big hair.”
“They love big lots of things,” Liz said.
“Yeah, I got a couple of them, too.” Debbie gave a wink and wiggle. “Now, let’s get down to the drinkin’ part.”
Everything was laid out on the counter and Debbie started mixing things up
. She paused long enough to look at the bottle of Cointreau and pursed up her lips. “The fancy stuff,” she said. “This is gonna be good.”
“Well, damn,” Maggie emerged from the bedroom and plunked her glass down on the counter
. “I think I deserve a good party. This may be my last chance to drink for quite a while.”
“Atta girl,” Debbie dipped the mouth of the first glass in lime juice and then salt, filled it, raised it in a toast and handed it to Maggie
. “This here your place?”
“It’s mine,” Maggie said as she took a sip and then another.
“Niiice,” Debbie said.
By the time Dolly Parton made it to the end of her first album everyone had emptied t
wo margaritas and Billie went to the kitchen to mix another batch. Debbie put Tammy Wynette into the player and she started up with “Your Good Girl’s Gonna Go Bad.”
“So, Debbie,” Maggie ate a couple of crackers and started to warm up a bit, “Liz tells me you used to be a beautician?”
“Sure did. Cut lots and lots of hair. Did perms and dye jobs, the whole bit.”
“But you no longer do that?”
“Nope, got a pro-fession-nal job. I work in an office now with the boss lady here.”
“Why?” Maggie asked.
“Why?” Debbie seemed a bit confused. “Because she pays me money.”
“No,” Maggie said
. “I mean, why did you stop cutting hair?”
“Well,” Debbie finished up what was left of her drink and tucked her legs up under her hips, “you know everything eventually boils down to a man
. My husband ran into his high school sweetheart after twelve years of marriage and suddenly remembered those good-ole days in the backseat of his Pontiac Grand Prix when everyone’s hormones were revving like a hot rod motor and their girlfriend’s belly was flat. He was a sorry bastard anyway. Left me with the kids. Him and his flat belly girlfriend took off for Vegas.”
She motioned to Billie as she came in the room and waved her empty glass in front of her
. “I was kind of glad to see him go. Biggest problem was when we got the big D, he had a better lawyer than I did and minus his health insurance I wasn’t helping myself by being self-employed. That’s when I interviewed with the boss lady, here.” She referenced Liz with a nod.
Billie refilled the other glasses while Tammy launched into
“Womanhood.”
Debbie stood up and pulled down at her shorts to get them away from cutting into her crotch. “Actually, his new wife and I get along fine. We exchange clothes. These shorts, here…they’re hers. I just keep cramming my big butt into them to prove I can.”
“You know,” Billie said in an obvious effort to give some fashion advice, “with your body, you would look really well wearing Ralph Lauren.”
“When you see Ralph, you send him my way,” Debbie said with a twinkle. “I’m at my best wearing nothing at all, and you can tell him that, too.”
“I’ll let him know,” Billie said and raised her glass.
“So what do you do for Liz?” Maggie asked.
“Whatever she wants
. Follow-up with all of her arrangements for blood drives. Make sure the locations and rooms are locked in. Send out confirmation letters. Secure the vehicle and equipment. Confirm arrangements with whatever volunteer groups plan to help out with refreshments or donate thank you gifts such as mugs or T-shirts. Whatever.”
“And just what does Liz do?” Maggie said.
Debbie launched into one of her glowing appraisals of Liz. The good part was that it wasn’t just good office politics on her part, she actually meant it.
“Oh, Liz is the up-front lady
. She’s the one who visits all of the muckety-mucks in their businesses and at the college campus and talks them into invitin’ us to come. She’s the one who writes the reports and goes to all those meetings in Raleigh. She’s the boss lady who makes sure everyone’s doing what they’re supposed to. Whenever there’s a problem, they come lookin’ for her.”
Liz was suddenly aware of her shabby cut-offs as she sat listening to the accolades being bestowed on her, and she didn’t wonder that her friends would have a hard time believing Debbie’s description
. Around town she looked like a worn-out mom who didn’t own an iron, but Debbie made her sound like a business tycoon.
“And what do al
l of you fine lady people do?” Debbie was relaxed and seemed comfortable with the group. That was one of her qualities that never failed her. She enjoyed just about anybody and could readily make conversation with whomever she was entertaining. “You all got husbands as good as Mr. Chase?”
Maggie let out a humph
. “Not me,” she volunteered. “Haven’t yet met the man who’s my equal.”
Debbie laughed. “That’s
tellin’ it like it is. Me and you. We’re just hard for those men to handle, ain’t we?”
Maggie didn’t respond, but she didn’t object either
. Liz thought she might be adjusting to the idea that she and Debbie had something in common after all.
“I’m married,” Billie spoke up, “to a fine man, a bit moody sometimes, but he’s a fine man.”
“A
bit
moody,” Maggie echoed. “Billie, he’s always moody.”
“He is not,” Billie insisted
.
Liz sensed that Billie was offended
. “You just don’t understand him, Maggie. He’s a very deep man. Introspective, you know. Most of the time his mind is just elsewhere.”
“Most of the time he’d prefer to
be
elsewhere.”
Billie got
defensive. “That’s not so. He loves Cedar Branch and he loves you, too. Can’t you see that?”
“Well, he’s got a
heck of a way of showing it.” Maggie realized that perhaps she had gone too far and hurt Billie’s feelings. Her look softened.
“Come on, Maggie,” Liz jumped in
. “You and Gill are two of a kind. You just see too much of yourself in him; headstrong, independent, self-confident, expect privacy.”
“Maybe,” Maggie conceded, “but Billie you pamper him way too much
. He expects you to wait on him hand and foot.”
“You know what?” Liz argued, “if Billie keeps Gill hap
py and Gill keeps Billie happy, and they’ve got a system that works for them, who are we to question it? Right, Debbie?”
“You got it,” Debbie agreed
. “Shall I tell you about my motorcycle honey with the pony tail and how I keep him happy?”
“NO,” everyone chimed in.
As Tammy Wynette launched into “Stand by Your Man,”
Billie took the bait and started to sing along. Debbie jumped up, threw out her arms and wailed,
bad times
to which Maggie and Debbie both raised their glasses and chimed in
good times.
Billie sashayed to the middle of the room pumping her hips left and right. She picked up a candle off the side board, flipped it upside down and put it to her mouth like a microphone.
That did it
. Liz grabbed a green candle off the desk. Debbie veered over to the bookcase, jacked up the volume and grabbed two white candles. She handed one to Maggie. Everyone lined up in formation behind Billie, who was singing her heart out as the lead.
Once they hit the chorus the room was
rockin.’ At the tops of their voices they belted out
STAND…BY…YOUR…MAN
and even made an effort at leg kicks, putting their arms around each other’s waists and trying to get into uniform step. Billie latched on to the end next to Liz and counted out loud to try to get everyone in sync. It was hopeless
.
Having had more to drink than advisable, Maggie started to lose her balance, and all four collapsed in a pile on the floor laughing.
Maggie slammed down the candle and said, “I’m ready for a haircut.”
“I figured you were gettin’ close,” Debbie said. “It usually takes about three. If you want to whip up one more batch, we can all strip naked and dance before I get started.”
“Good Lord, no, Debbie,” Liz blurted out
. “Nobody’s dancing naked.”
“Can you c
ut straight, honey?” Maggie asked. “I just wanna be sure you’re sober enough to cut straight.”
“
Ain’t nothin’ to it,” Debbie said. “I just stick this old guard on the clipper and it’ll hold even on us. It ain’t the clippers that are the roller coaster. It’s the bumps in the head.”