“You forgot?” Birdie’s eyes grew huge. “A rock that big? Jeez, Lucy.”
She shrugged and tried to look chagrined. “What can I say?”
From her seat across the room, Marsha sighed. “I’d never forget something that beautiful. If Shorty gave me a diamond, even a teensy-weensy one, I swear I’d never take it off.”
Yeah, and if Jake actually gave me one, neither would I, Lucinda thought. Oh, if wishes were fishes. But she forced herself to smile. “I can’t believe I did either, Marsha.”
The little shop was busy that day. Unusually so, if Lucinda read the looks between Birdie and Chad correctly. No doubt many of the visitors had heard she was there and were dropping by for a chance to take a peek. Marsha regaled them all with the story of her makeover. She’d turned into princess-for-a-day and was eating it up.
The door swung open again, hot air rushing in. Howie Parker walked in. “Hey, Birdie, got time to give your old dad a trim?”
“Sure. I’ll be another few minutes here, though, if you can wait.”
“No problem. I’ll just—” Spotting Lucinda, he hesitated, one hand still on the door.
“Come on in, Mr. Parker,” Lucinda said. “Despite what you’ve heard, I don’t bite.” Her brows rose. “Although after last night, maybe I should.”
To his credit he looked chagrined. “Ms. Darling, this is my son you’re playing with. I think that gives me the right—”
“I’m not playing with anyone, Mr. Parker.” Her voice took on an edge.
“Howie.”
“Fine.” She nodded at him. “I’m not playing with anyone, Howie.”
She was aware of Marsha, all eyes and ears, watching and listening. Birdie picked up on it and tossed her under the sprayer for a quick shampoo to rinse out the conditioner.
“I hope not.” He jammed his sheriff’s hat back on. “Think I’ll come back a little later, Birdie. You seem pretty busy right now.” The bell tinkled over the door as he left.
“Oh boy. He thinks he’s upset now.”
Lucinda looked at her. “What? What’s going on?”
Birdie blew out a big breath and glanced around the room. So did Lucinda. Sunny Fisher was in Chad’s chair, getting a trim. Other than that, the shop was empty.
Toweling Marsha’s hair, Birdie said, “Honey, I’m gonna have you sit right here for a couple minutes.”
“Okay.” Marsha reached for another magazine, and Birdie dragged Lucy toward the back.
Lucinda was mighty glad she wore flats. She wouldn’t have been able to keep up in heels and had not a doubt that Birdie would simply have hauled her along behind her. The lady was on a mission.
“Zane called last night,” Birdie said, the instant they hit the backroom.
“Sammy’s father?”
“Yeah.” Birdie picked at her cuticle, then sighed. “I miss him, Lucy. When you find that one, the one that stops your heart, you need to hold on tight. Don’t let anything or anyone get in the way.”
“Is that what happened, Birdie? Somebody came between you and Zane? Something happened?”
“I don’t know.” Birdie’s lower lip trembled. “And that’s the God’s honest truth. But I’m telling you, honey, decide what you want and go for it. Regardless of what other people think or say.”
“Does he call often?”
Birdie shook her head. “No.” She laid a hand on Lucinda’s arm. “Grab your happiness. Nobody else knows what’s in your heart.”
As Lucinda followed Birdie back to the front, she couldn’t help but wonder if this sudden sharing was a direct result of Howie’s visit or maybe because she’d moved in with her that morning. Quite possibly, it was due to her lack of an engagement ring. Did Birdie suspect something more was going on than she and Jake had shared?
Lucinda watched as Birdie’s clever scissors created a cute, sassy cut for Marsha that still managed to be very feminine. The style shouted a devil-may-care, can’t-wait-to-get-you-into-bed attitude softened enough to whisper but you have to take me home to Mama first.
When she was finished, Marsha twisted this way, then that, checking herself out from all angles in the mirror.
Lucinda took over. Pulling out her makeup case, she set to work, selecting colors that complemented this new darker blond with her big blue eyes. She tried to keep Marsha’s taste in mind and used bolder colors than she might for herself. Marsha tended to be pretty heavy-handed with all things glittery. Lucinda had absolutely nothing glittery in her case. Nor would she ever.
“Golly, Lucinda. You really know how to do this, don’t you?”