The Quaker Café (21 page)

“Well, that’s reassuring,” Maggie was tipsy and she exaggerated her words while she eyeballed Debbie
.

Liz pulled out the kitchen bar stool and Debbie whipped out the cape and swung it around the front of Maggie
. “One more for the road,” Maggie said and raised her glass. Billie headed into the kitchen to make up another batch.

As Debbie went to her bag of clippers she motioned to Liz and pulled out a large plastic bag
. “When I cut,” she said, “I’m gonna hand the hair to you to put in the bag. It’s better than lettin’ it all fall on the floor in front of her.” 

While Liz took the bag, Billie went over to the tape player and slipped in Ray Charles, singing
“Bye Bye Love.”

Maggie sat on the stool and closed her eyes
. The giggles stopped. Only Debbie’s chatter broke the new level of tension. “You know, I did this for another woman once and she told me she got more pick-up offers bald than when she had hair. Then she went out and got a tattoo on one side of her head. I always wondered whether the ink soaked into your brain if you did that, the tattoo thing, I mean, but she seemed to be okay, ‘cept she went from havin’ blue eyes to black eyes.”

“Debbie,” Liz said
. “Stop, you don’t mean that.” 

“I do,” she said
. “I saw it.”

As the clippers hummed Liz and Billie couldn’t take their eyes off the swatches of long thick hair that Debbie handed over strip by strip
. Liz wanted Maggie to keep her eyes closed and never open them again until everything was back to normal. By the time Ray Charles had gotten into “Hey, Good Lookin’,” Debbie was done.

“Lord, that’s a beautiful head,” Debbie exclaimed
. “Honey, you are gorgeous. I’m tellin’ you, I know some bikers who would fight over gettin’ you on their Harley.”

Maggie ran her fingers through the fine bristle on her head and appeared to
struggle for her next breath. Billie shot Liz a glance. Liz stood behind Maggie holding the bag and suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of doom. She turned her back to everyone and took several deep breaths.

“Debbie,” she said abruptly, turning  around
. “Cut my hair, too.”

There was a moment’s pause, but Debbie picked up on it immediately
. “You want a fine looking haircut like this, too?   Okay, boss lady. You sit your pretty ass right up here on this stool and I’ll make you beautiful.”

             
A horrified expression crossed over Billie’s face and then she downed another margarita in one swallow. “Me, too,” she called out, “me too.”

“Liz, Billie, don’t be silly
. You don’t have to do that for me,” Maggie said.

“Why not?  I want to do it
with
you, not for you.” She was determined now. “Debbie, cut my hair.”

             
“Here, Billie. You hold this bag for us, darlin,” Debbie said. “I’ll hand you the hair.” 

Billie hesitated, but then took the bag
. Liz could tell that Billie’s resolve was breaking. She watched the first tangle of curls handed to Billie and closed her eyes. Maggie’s way was best. Listening to Ray Charles sing “Just a Little Lovin’ Will Go a Long Way,” and the hum of the clippers, her stomach twisted into a knot.

“All done,” Debbie said
. Liz opened her eyes and the expression on Billie’s face said it all. Whatever impulse Billie had a few minutes earlier was gone. She looked at Liz and gulped. “Gill would kill me.”

             
“Forget it, Billie. Don’t do it,” Liz said, wondering if the reason she’d changed her mind was related to how bad she now looked.

             
Debbie didn’t waste a minute. Ignoring Billie’s gaping mouth she grabbed the Dolly Parton wigs and said, “It’s Dolly time.” She helped Maggie and Liz adjust the wigs onto their heads while Billie struggled with hers. As a foursome they stood in front of the mirror in the den. “Not bad, not bad at all.”

“I think we could use another round,” Maggie said, and Billie dutifully returned to
the blender. From there on they sang “It’s a Little too Late” and “Walking Shoes” with Tanya Tucker. By the time Deanna Carter finished up with “Strawberry Wine,” they were all snockered.

             
With heads thrown back staring at the ceiling and legs stretched out across the coffee table, Dolly Parton curls cascaded down the back of the sofa. Maggie spoke. “You know what?”

             
“What, babe,” Liz said.

             
“I hate country music.”

             
“Well, now you tell me,” Debbie said. “I’ve got every song that Elvis ever sung in the car. I could hav’ got that.”

             
“Don’t worry about it,” Maggie said. “Liz?”

             
“What, hon?”

             
“I feel like I’m ridin’ naked into the wind.” Maggie closed her eyes.

             
“Hot dog, we gonna get naked?” Debbie giggled.

“Forget it,” Liz eyed Debbie
. “Grab a sofa and sleep it off.”

When Chase came to pick up Liz, a silly little grin appeared on his face at the
sight of the Dolly Parton wig.“You gals been having a good time?”

             
“You bet,” Liz said.

“You up for some more fun?” Chase asked.

“I’ve got a surprise. I gotta tell you something,” Liz said.

“Okay?” he said, his grin got bigger
. “I’m game.”

“I shaved my head.” 

“No, you didn’t.” Chase gave a bit of a snort.

“Yes, I did.”

“I don’t believe it.” The silly grin was completely gone.

“You
wanna see.”

“Yeah, prove it.”

“Wait until we’re in the house.”

When they were in their bedroom Liz took off the wig. Chase’s eyes widened and he stammered
. “You really shaved your head.”

“Yep.”

“You look sort of like Ben Kingsley.”

“I was hoping you’d say Demi Moore.”

“Well, I’ll try to think Demi Moore and not Ben Kingsley in bed tonight.”

Liz threw a pillow at him, grabbed her nightgown, dropped into bed and pulled
the covers up over her head.

When she opened her eyes in the morning she considered the possibility it was all a nightmare, but the headache was real. Chase was in the shower. Her head felt cold and weightless
. She ran her fingers through the bristles on top and slowly approached the mirror. It was then that the realization hit her.
The wedding!  Oh my God, this is what I’ll look like for the wedding.

*****

Maggie and Liz made their bald debut at The Quaker Café the next Thursday evening. Liz wore a UNC baseball cap, but Maggie was out there; no scarf, no cap, nothing. She had decided to tackle it cold turkey, get it over with in one fell swoop. She’d go to the café one last time before she left for her four week stay at Duke and answer all of the questions and hopefully put to rest whatever outrageous rumors had started to circulate.

Chase admitted he had grown accustomed to Liz curls, but they had married through “thick and thin” and he’d honor the wedding vows
. Besides, he admitted his own pate was getting a bit bare these days, so he couldn’t point fingers.

Liz became
her own worst enemy. She hated her bald head but didn’t want to say anything for fear Maggie would feel responsible. As Liz knew all too well, she was the victim of her own poor judgment and too much alcohol. In her younger days the same kind of decision-making could have gotten her pregnant. She had been lucky. Now all she could do was wait; her hair could grow back. Besides, given all that Maggie was up against, how could she be so selfish as to fuss over her hair?

“Like it, Maggie, like it,” streamed forth
from various tables around the The Quaker Café as Maggie and Liz made their entrance. Liz noticed nobody was giving her any hi-signs.

“When do you leave for Duke?” Miss Ellie sat down at their table.

“Monday morning,” Maggie said.

“I could help
…come sit with you, if you like.”

“No, thank you,” Maggie patted her hand
. “We’ve got it all worked out. Billie and Liz have volunteered to alternate days. Richard is coming at least once a week to give them a break. The doctor tells me I won’t feel like company anyway.”

“You change your mind, you let me know,”
Miss Ellie said. “I’d close this place down in a heartbeat to be by your side.”

“I know you would,” Maggie said, “and I appreciate it.”

“Liz,” Miss Ellie turned to her. “You’ll keep us updated?”

“I promised,” Liz said
.

“Where are Billie and Gill tonight,” Miss Ellie asked.

“Norfolk,” Liz said, “went to catch a show.”

Clayton Collier, a lawyer from Murphy who had worked closely with the Judge throughout their careers, walked into the café and immediately headed for Maggie
. His reputation as one of the good-ole boys reached far and wide, and he played it to his advantage every time he stepped into a court room. With a toothpick always protruding from the corner of his mouth, he would roll it around with his tongue and let it pop in and out with the agility of a lizard. It was distracting. Whenever he cross-examined a witness, he mesmerized them with this toothpick trick and they’d get lost in their testimony. Although complaints had been raised by a few opposing lawyers, Clayton insisted the toothpick was a medical necessity. It stopped his ears from ringing.

Clayton spoke to several others before kissing Maggie on the cheek and pulling up a chair next to her
. “Figured I might find you here. “Nice head,” he said. “Is there anything I can do for you, darlin’?”

“No, Clayton,” she said
. “Thank you, I think everything’s taken care of.”

“Well, if you get into anything legal you want someone to handle, you know I’m always available.”

“I appreciate that,” Maggie said. “Liz has healthcare power of attorney and is executor of my will if it should get to that.”

“Good Lord, we hope not,” Clayton looked taken aback
. “I was thinking more about your month to month accounts and investments. You aren’t planning on dying on us, are you?”

“Nope,” Maggie said
. “I plan to forgo that option.”

“Well, by all means, please do
. Losing one Kendall was painful enough.”

Maggie returned his smile
. She was being very upbeat, and Liz knew she had reserved her energy to do just that.

“You take care of her,” he said looking at Chase and Liz
. “If there’s anything I can do, just any little thing, you don’t hesitate to give me a call.”

“Thank you, we’ll do that,” Liz said as he got up to leave.

Clayton gave Maggie’s hand a pat and kissed the top of her bald head as he rose. He didn’t so much as comment on Liz’s UNC cap; she felt slightly offended.

Helen got up from her table in the far corner and started over
. Liz groaned. She’d hoped they could get in and out without anything more than a
good evening
.

“Maggie, dear,” Helen said as she stood by their table
. “I just want to wish you the best during your stay at Duke. We’re all praying for your quick recovery.”

“Thank you, Helen.”

“Liz, I just wanted to suggest that with all you two have to deal with, we need to make a gracious agreement not to spend money and time on this silly campaign. Let it run its course; not get caught up in any pre-election speaking and posters and all of that useless paraphernalia. All of your energy needs to be about getting well, Maggie. And the only thing you should spend extra time on is helping Maggie in any way you can, Liz. Wouldn’t you agree?”

No one said anything for a moment
. Liz didn’t want to commit to anything she hadn’t had time to consider. Maggie spoke up. “That’s a gracious offer, Helen. I’ll certainly encourage Liz to think about using her time wisely.”

Helen nodded, uncertain if her offer had been accepted
or not. She hesitated and then added, “Well, Maggie, the best to you. We look forward to your quick return to Cedar Branch,” and she returned to her corner table.

             
“Interesting,” Maggie mused, and then changed the subject. “Would you come by Cottonwoods in about an hour?  Just want to show you a couple of things.”

*****

              Liz dropped Chase off at the house, ran their Thursday night babysitter home and drove over to Cottonwoods.

                Maggie lay on the sofa, obviously spent after her event at the café.

“Liz, I need you to follow up on a few things until I get back
. I could have asked Clayton and will, if you’d rather not.”