Age Before Beauty

by Virginia Smith

  Allie’s eyes flashed and her mouth opened to deliver a retort. But her gaze dropped to Mother and her mouth shut again. Something in her face stopped Eric from turning away. She looked disappointed, like she really had wanted him to drive her around town this morning.

  “Listen,” he told her, “Molly’s a single mother. She can’t afford to hire a plumber. Just let me run over there and take a look at her toilet, and maybe it won’t take too long to fix. I’ll probably be finished in time to help you with your stuff before the game comes on this afternoon.”

  Her mouth became a hard line. “And what time is that?”

  Eric returned her stare. Was she irritated that he wanted to watch the game? She knew U.K. was playing Mississippi State this afternoon. He’d been talking about it all week. “Two o’clock.”

  “Well, I was hoping—” Her mouth shut with a snap.

  Mother looked up at Allie. “If you need me to watch the baby while you run your errands, I don’t mind.”

  Allie’s lips parted as she stared at Mother. Actually, Eric didn’t blame her for looking astonished. That was the first time Mother had volunteered to keep Joanie. Satisfaction settled in his gut. His mother was developing a relationship with her granddaughter, just as he’d hoped. If only he could get Dad down here to meet Joanie too.

  “Thanks, Betty,” Allie said. “That’ll be a big help.”

  Eric gave a nod and headed into the bedroom to put on some old clothes. Obviously all Allie wanted was someone to tag along after her and take care of Joanie. Mother seemed glad to do it, which suited him just fine. He’d rather be helpful fixing something for Molly than spend the morning on delivery duty. And no matter what, he’d make sure he was in front of the television by two o’clock to enjoy his Saturday afternoon the way a man should—watching what promised to be a great football game.

  “Eric, I can’t thank you enough. I feel horrible that you’ve spent so much of your Saturday fixing my toilet.”

  Prone on the bathroom floor, Eric gave the wrench a final turn. “Don’t worry about it. It’s really no big deal.”

  He glanced up at Molly, who stood leaning against the wall, her arms wrapped around her ribs, watching him. She looked different today, more casual, though the jeans and T-shirt she usually wore to work weren’t much dressier than those she had on now. Maybe it wasn’t the way she looked so much as her attitude. She seemed more at ease here in her home environment. Carefree, even. And embarrassed at having him mess around with her toilet, especially when he’d finally discovered the reason the thing was overflowing.

  But Eric was embarrassed too, because a couple of times he’d looked up from his work to find her staring at him. His shirt hung over the towel rack, safe and dry from the mess the malfunctioning toilet had caused. At home he ran around without a shirt all the time, but here, in Molly’s bathroom, he felt as though he was inappropriately half dressed.

  Which was dumb. This was Molly, a friend and coworker. Nobody to be embarrassed in front of.

  Eric sat up and reached into the bathtub to pick up the Hot Wheels car. He grimaced as he held it out to her. “You probably ought to boil this thing before you give it back to your son.”

  Her nose wrinkled as she took it between her thumb and forefinger. “Are you kidding? This is going in the trashcan. Serves Josh right for flushing it down the toilet and then not telling me about it. I’m sorry you had to take the whole thing apart to find it.”

  Eric grinned. “It sure was wedged way down in there. Don’t be too hard on him. He’s just being a boy.” He understood the fascination of the toilet bowl for a little boy. He remembered floating a toy boat in his toilet, pretending it was caught in a storm as it circled around and around in the watery whirlwind. Mother was all kinds of upset when she caught him.

  He twisted the shutoff valve. The sound of water rushing through the pipes and into the tank filled the room. When it finished, he pushed the handle down. Molly grinned at him in triumph as the toilet flushed without a problem. The youngest boy peeked out from behind her, then whirled and ran down the hallway, shouting to his brother, “He fixed it. We can flush now.”

  Eric got to his feet. “Hey, what time is it?”

  She glanced at her watch. “Two ten.” She winced. “Oh, Eric, your game started ten minutes ago. You missed the kickoff.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” He gestured toward the sink. “If it’s okay, I’ll just wash my hands before I leave.”

  “You have dirt on your, uh . . .” Her fingers reached to brush his chest, but stopped just short of touching him. Pink spots appeared on her cheeks. “I’ll get you a washcloth.”

  Eric found himself unable to meet her gaze when she returned with the washcloth and a fresh towel. He took them wordlessly and twisted the hot water handle, aware that Molly slipped out of the room behind him.

  As he scrubbed at his arms and elbows with the washcloth, Eric wondered at the sudden discomfort between them. Molly was . . . well, she was just Molly. He’d known her for years. They worked side by side in a room so small they could grasp hands without leaving their desks if they wanted. He had a tremendous amount of respect for her. She did a great job raising two boys alone after her ex-husband left her and moved to Arizona. No need to feel awkward. Once he had dried off, he slipped his shirt over his head. He’d grab a shower later, between games. He headed down the short hallway toward the front room of Molly’s small house.

  “Look what I found.” She stood in front of the television set, the remote control in her hand. “U.K. won the toss and they just got a first down. Why don’t you have a seat and I’ll fix you a sandwich?”

  Eric glanced at the television set as he shook his head. “Thanks, but I should probably get home.”

  Molly tilted her head. “Please? The boys are playing in the backyard, so they won’t bother you. A sandwich is the least I can offer after you saved me so much money.”

  The quarterback threw an awkward pass and Eric winced. But the receiver nabbed it out of the air just before a Mississippi State player tackled him. “Wow!” Eric looked at Molly. “Did you see that? Another first down.”

  Molly grinned. “Have a seat. Ham and Swiss okay?”

  “Sounds good,” Eric told her as he lowered himself onto the sofa. This was going to be a great game.

  12

  Allie parked her car in Sally Jo’s driveway and twisted the rearview mirror to glance at her makeup. Even though her lipstick looked fresh, she pulled the lip pencil out of her purse and went over her lips once more. Satisfied, she snapped the lid back on. The shipment from Varie Cose’s warehouse had been short one box of stain wipes, but Sally Jo had offered to let Allie purchase one from her inventory.

  Sally Jo opened the door before she could ring the bell.

  “I’ve been hoping you’d get here soon,” she said without preamble as she threw the door wide and gestured for Allie to enter. “I’ve got to leave for a party in twenty minutes.”

  “Sorry.” Allie stepped into the elegant entry hall. She’d waited an hour for Eric to call and tell her if he’d be able to go with her on her calls. But she didn’t see a need to explain that. “I had to get the baby settled before I left her with my mother-in-law.”

  Obviously, Sally Jo was not enamored with babies. The brief smile she flashed Allie looked more like a grimace. She shut the door and brushed past Allie down the back hallway. “The wipes are in here. Why don’t you have a party booked today?”

  Allie followed, aware of Sally Jo’s excellent posture and her long strides, the way she held her head high. Allie straightened her shoulders. “Nobody requested one, but I’m considering taking weekends off anyway. It took my husband a long time to build up enough seniority to get Saturdays and Sundays off. I’d like to reserve those for family time.”

  Sally Jo stopped with her hand on the knob of a door at the end of the hall to turn her arched eyebrows toward Allie. “Of course, that’s your choice. Saturday afternoons are highly pr
ofitable, you know. It’s a great day for pedicure parties. Women love to have something fun to do while the men are watching their dumb football games all day. Once they’ve relaxed with their feet in a Varie Cose footbath, their checkbooks flow like fountains.”

  Allie hadn’t thought of that. It made sense, though, and she’d love to be able to turn a profit as a result of the football obsession shared by every guy over the age of two. Maybe she should buy one of the pedicure demo kits. Tori’s friend Lisa had sounded interested in booking a party, but she didn’t select a date yet. Perhaps she could be persuaded to do a pedicure party.

  Sally Jo turned the door handle and stepped into the room, Allie on her heels. Inside the room, Allie stopped and stared around. This place was like a Varie Cose store! Shelves covered three walls, stuffed full of products. There had to be two dozen bottles of cleaning spray, and at least as many boxes of laundry soap. Box after box of housewares filled the shelves on Allie’s left, and through the open closet door Allie glimpsed more stacks of Varie Cose boxes. One whole shelving section was devoted to skin care. Allie stepped close to examine the small pastel green boxes stacked four deep. Sally Jo had several of every shade of foundation, blush, eye, and lip color the catalog offered.

  “Wow!” Allie ran her finger over a row of spray cleaner bottles. “You’ve got your own warehouse right here.”

  Sally Jo’s gaze swept the room as she nodded. “I told you and the other girls I like to keep an inventory on hand. I take a few of the top-selling products with me to every party so people can take their orders home with them. Occasionally someone will buy something I don’t have, and then I have to order it. But most of the time I can either give it to them right away, or deliver it the next day.” She took a box of stain wipes from a shelf and handed it to Allie. “You should consider building an inventory yourself. It really helps.”

  Allie looked at the well-stocked shelves one last time before she left the room. “That does make sense.”

  Allie pulled into her own driveway and shoved the car into Park. She’d finished all her deliveries, and even managed to convince Mrs. Faber to host a makeover party the following Saturday. That made five parties on her calendar in the next two weeks. All in all, a profitable day already, and it was only two thirty in the afternoon.

  Eric’s pickup was still gone. Molly’s toilet problem must have turned into a major repair job, especially if it caused him to miss his ball game. A flash of irritation set Allie’s teeth together. He wouldn’t miss his precious game to help with her errands, but he didn’t hesitate to run out the door the minute Molly called.

  That’s not fair. Molly was in trouble. I should be glad I have the kind of husband who can handle home repairs.

  Allie got out of the car, slung her purse over her shoulder, and headed for the mailbox. She and Eric had never paid a plumber or carpenter or anyone to do anything to their home. Plus, Eric had done many repairs on Gram’s house, a couple of them pretty major. He’d saved Gram and Mom a ton of money. And Molly was all alone, without a husband of her own to help.

  Allie paused with her hand on the mailbox door. Molly was all alone. And Eric was over at her house. What if . . .

  She shook her head. No. That was silly. Molly was a coworker who needed help, nothing more.

  A thick stack of envelopes and catalogs crowded the mailbox. Allie flipped through the pile as she headed toward the front door. A couple of election brochures. The power bill. Something in a window envelope from a post office box addressed to her.

  She pulled that one out of the stack and felt the telltale outline of a plastic card. Her credit card! Unable to wait until she got inside the house, Allie ripped into the envelope and extracted a folded piece of stiff paper. The card was attached. Her name in raised gold letters glistened in the sunlight.

  It was official! She was a businesswoman with her own company and her own credit card. Now she could make a real investment in her business and start building her inventory. Oh, nothing like Sally Jo had in her spare room, at least not at first. Allie would start slowly. She knew exactly what she’d buy first—that pedicure demo kit. Maybe a few of the top sellers, like laundry soap and cleaner. A few lipsticks. She could easily pay the bill for those items with all the parties she had booked over the next couple of weeks.

  She skipped up the front porch stairs. When Eric finished his repair job and got home, he’d be plastered in front of the television, watching ball games for the rest of the day. That meant she had all afternoon to browse through the Varie Cose online catalog and place her inventory order.

  The sound of the front door closing drew Allie’s attention from her study of the pedicure procedures she’d printed off the Varie Cose consultant website. She glanced at the clock on the bedside table. Almost five o’clock. She’d filled her afternoon with follow-up phone calls trying to convince people to schedule parties and then settled down for a little paperwork. She’d lost track of time after Joanie’s last meal.

  A moment later Eric came into the room. When he caught sight of the papers spread across the surface of the bed, his eyebrows rose. “What’s all this?”

  “Just getting some work done.” Allie tried not to emphasize work, but she still felt slightly offended at his tone last night when he referred to her parties as though they weren’t a job. “You’re late. That toilet must have turned into a real project.”

  Eric turned his back on her and stripped off his shirt. “It was, but I finished a couple hours ago. Molly turned the game on, and I got involved.”

  Allie shifted on the mattress uneasily. She’d assumed he was working all this time. Why hadn’t she taken the time to call him, to find out why he wasn’t home yet? “You watched the game at Molly’s house?”

  He opened a dresser drawer and took out a clean T-shirt. “Yeah.”

  “Were her kids there?”

  He gave a single nod. “At halftime we went out in the yard and tossed a football around. Mikey has quite an arm for an eight-year-old.”

  Allie picked up the papers and shuffled them in a neat stack in her lap, trying to control her rising temper. “I thought you were going to come home and run errands with me when you got the toilet fixed. I waited for an hour.”

  “Sorry about that.” Eric stooped to take a pair of jeans from the bottom drawer. “I didn’t get the toilet fixed until after two.” He straightened. “Josh had rammed a toy car up in there and it got wedged sideways. Had to take the thing completely apart to get it out.” He laughed, shaking his head.

  Thoughts raced around Allie’s mind as he shoved the drawer closed with a foot. He was acting like coming home hours late was no big deal. “Uh, her kids were there all day, right?”

  He gave her an odd look. “I just said they were. They watched most of the game with me.” He disappeared into the bathroom.

  Allie heard the shower turn on. Disquiet niggled at her thoughts. Even if Molly was a co-worker, she was an attractive single woman, and Allie did not like the idea of Eric spending a whole afternoon in her house, even with her kids there to chaperone. But if she said anything, he would accuse her of being a nagging wife. Or maybe he’d think she was being snippy because she was upset that he didn’t take her on her deliveries. What had he said this morning? He didn’t want to spend his Saturday running around town like a delivery boy.

  She got off the bed and picked up the dirty shirt Eric had dropped on the floor. The sound of the shower told her he was still occupied in the bathroom. With a quick glance in that direction, she buried her face in the fabric and inhaled deeply. No perfume. Just the strong, outdoorsy scent that was uniquely Eric. A quick inspection of the neckline showed no sign of lipstick, either.

  Feeling like a jealous shrew, she tossed the shirt into the laundry basket they kept in the walk-in closet. But as she did, she heaved a sigh of relief.

  Allie let Tori take the infant seat from her hands when they stepped through the front door of Gram’s house Sunday afternoon. She followed Mo
m, Gram, and Joan into the living room as they swarmed around Joanie like bees around a sweet-smelling blossom. Tori set the seat on the coffee table and bent over it.

  “Hello there, my sweet little niece,” she cooed. She straightened and turned a delighted grin toward Allie. “She smiled at me!”

  Allie nodded. “She’s smiling a lot the past few days. The other day she even laughed out loud.”

  “I want to hear.” Joan stepped closer, her shoulder pressed against Tori to shove her out of the way. “Let me have her so I can do something to make her laugh.”

  “Not a chance.” Tori’s eyes flashed as she held her ground. “I’m holding her first.”

  “No, I am.” Mom used the voice they all knew, the one that said she had the final say. Tori and Joan reluctantly stepped aside.

  As Mom unfastened the straps, Gram’s gaze slid behind Allie. “Why, Betty, you didn’t have to bring anything.”

  Allie turned to find Betty standing just inside the front door beside Eric, the insulated casserole dish Allie received as a wedding gift in her hands. At least somebody was getting some use out of it.

  Betty nodded. “I hated to come empty-handed, so I made a broccoli casserole.”

  “You didn’t have to do that, but I’m sure it will be delicious.” Gram used her metal walker to make her way slowly toward the kitchen. “Bring it right in here.”

  Betty followed, and Eric crossed the room toward the recliner. He settled in, picked up the remote control, and punched the television on. Sunday afternoon football. He was accustomed to making himself comfortable in the family home. Allie bit back an irritated remark about his unsocial behavior. Nobody else seemed to notice, though. They were too involved with the baby.

  Behind her the front door opened and Ken stepped through. Joan tore herself away from Joanie and went to him, her brown eyes alight. The couple did not kiss but stood close together, hands clasped, sharing a private glance and a tender smile. Allie’s heart warmed as she watched her sister, so obviously in love. The look on Ken’s face as he gazed down into Joan’s eyes made Allie heave a sentimental sigh. Her sister deserved to be treasured.