9 Ways to Fall in Love

by Caroline Clemmons

  Oh, hell. Evelyn Rogers. "I brought you some apples." Joanna placed the bag of apples she had bought in Lubbock yesterday on the counter, then sailed past her mom, avoiding her accusing eyes. "Was Evelyn mad?"

  Sailing past was a poor avoidance tactic. Mom followed her. "A little. But she got better when I told her you was tied up with a problem with them damn chickens. She let me give her a trim."

  "Thanks. I'll call her and apologize."

  “Dalton Parker called. Wants you to call him back.”

  Joanna almost halted mid-stride, but willed herself not to show a reaction.

  “What does he want?”

  “Don’t know, Mom. He probably wants to complain about my hens.”

  "Where have you been?" her mother asked again. "I tried calling you. I tried your cell phone, too."

  Her cell phone had spent the night in her truck outside the Parker house.

  Reaching her desk, still ducking her mother's piercing look, Joanna busied herself stowing her purse in a bottom desk drawer, removing her sweater and laying it on top of a file cabinet. "Don't know what happened, Mom. Guess we just didn't make a connection."

  Alvadean Walsh might be flighty as a butterfly, but she wasn't one who gave up easily. "Are you sick?"

  "I'm probably just tired." Joanna checked her desk for messages. "I went all day yesterday without food."

  Mom jammed a fist against her hip, her mouth pursed. "Well, you look awful."

  Thanks, Mom.

  Her mother's head shook, one-two-three. "I don't know why you don't get rid o' them damn chickens. It's not like you're makin' any money. They ain't worth your health, and they're costin' you business in this beauty shop. Why, if I hadn't o' been here this mornin', Evelyn—"

  "Mom, please."

  "How far did you have to drive yesterday? Just look at the time and gas you're a-wastin' runnin' up and down the road. With the price gas has gone up to—"

  "Mother. It's my time and my gas. Okay?" She placed her hand on Mom's shoulder and captured her eyes with hers. Most of the time, Joanna refrained from expressing her opinions about some of Mom’s habits and hobbies and hurting her feelings. Some days, keeping quiet was harder than others. This was one of the hard days.

  She saw the rise of reluctant surrender in Mom's eyes. The woman might nag and wear a cloak of self-righteousness, but Joanna knew that deep down, her mother supported her.

  "You've got Shari down on the appointment book," Mom said. "She's due to show up here any minute."

  Even as her mother spoke, Joanna heard the front door chime and looked up to see her best pal hurrying in just in time to rescue her from more of Mom's hounding. Time to get on with the day. Joanna met Shari in the salon.

  "Are you sick?" Shari asked, dropping into Joanna's hydraulic chair and frowning at her in the mirror.

  Joanna wanted to cry. She must look worse than even she thought. Indeed she was sick. Sick at heart, sick in the head, sick of men. Again. She wrapped a silver plastic cape around Shari's shoulders. "I don't know. Flu bug maybe. It's that time of year."

  "Well, don't get sick now. We're celebrating my birthday tomorrow night."

  Joanna huffed a humorless laugh. "I could be dead by then." She picked a sterilized hairbrush from her drawer and began to brush Shari's hair. Heaving a great breath, she directed a long assessment at her best friend in the mirror. "Okay, birthday girl, what are we doing to you today?"

  "I found some gray hairs. Do you think I need some color?"

  Joanna cocked her head, her mouth twisting as she more closely examined Shari's hair. She had beautiful thick hair the color of coffee. Joanna had created a straight, blunt-cut style that fell just past her nape. It was perfect for a woman who had a houseful of busy kids and a busy husband, and who didn't have time to maintain a fussy hairdo. "I'd leave it alone."

  "Okay, then, just trim it and style it. Make me look sexy. For Jay."

  Joanna stood back to let her friend rise from the chair. They walked together back to the shampoo room, and Shari seated herself in the chair in front of the sink. "How's Clova?" she asked as Joanna gingerly tilted her head backward into the sink. "I heard she's got pneumonia."

  "Yep."

  "Bummer. Guess you can't be too good if you're sick enough to be in the hospital."

  Joanna nodded, testing the water spray for temperature.

  "Dalton came by Jay's shop yesterday."

  Shocked, Joanna almost sprayed water on the wall. "When?"

  "Yesterday morning."

  Instantly Joanna's interest in Shari's conversation perked up. She shuffled back through last night's talk with Dalton, but if he had mentioned visiting Jay Huddleston, it had gone right past her. Unable to believe a man as self-centered as Dalton had any interest in renewing acquaintance with an old school friend for the sake of doing it, she asked, "Whatever for?"

  "He was wondering about an oil well that was drilled on the Parker ranch. It was a long time ago. Jay couldn't remember it, but his dad did."

  Joanna doused Shari's hair with warm water and worked in shampoo. "Humph. I wonder what that's about."

  "You don't know?"

  "About an oil well? I might have heard Clova mention it here or there, but no, I don't know."

  "Jay said Dalton's trying to find somebody to drill on his mom's place."

  It dawned on Joanna that in last night's supper conversation they had discussed what Dalton had been doing all over the world in the last fifteen years, but he hadn’t said a word about what he had been doing all day yesterday in Hatlow.

  Her next thought was about the land Clova had offered to her and a tiny anxiety came back to niggle at her. "So did he find someone?" Joanna asked cautiously.

  "Oh, hell, I don't know. Jay doesn't exactly fill me in on all the details of anything. He said Dalton hasn't changed much except for a little gray hair. But hell, we're all getting gray hair."

  "Not everyone," Joanna replied, thinking about Dalton's hair and the intimate places where it was still coal black.

  Finished with the shampoo, Joanna helped her friend to an upright position. Shari looked up at her, her eyes filled with glee. "Virginia Newman said he's still hot. You must see him every day when you go out there to take care of your eggs. What do you think?"

  Joanna thought back to the Sunday when she and Dalton had taken Clova to the hospital. Virginia had been the admitting clerk. "Nothing much. He's always busy and so am I."

  "But you must be getting acquainted with him a little bit. Practically everyone we know is pea green with envy that you see him every day. Virginia told Sandy Billings he guaranteed Clova's hospital bill with his own credit card. He must be loaded."

  "Hm," Joanna replied.

  "Don't give me a 'hm.' Virginia said you were there when he handed over his credit card."

  Joanna sighed, thinking of something Dalton had said during last night's supper conversation. Indeed everyone in Hatlow did have their noses in everyone's else business. "Yeah, I was there."

  "Well, did he guarantee the bill or not? Clova being in the hospital will cost a lot of money. Is he loaded?"

  "I suppose he wouldn't have said he'd pay if he couldn't."

  And from what Joanna knew of him, she would bet her last dollar on that fact.

  They walked back to the chair at Joanna's station. As she snipped away at Shari's ends, her pal's prattle wandered to the new lights at the football stadium and the letter Cody had received from A & M. Her youngest son, Dillon, had to have braces on his teeth. Sometimes a person needed a program to have a conversation with Shari. Today, she seemed even more convoluted than usual.

  The hair styling done, Shari stood up with a handheld mirror and did a circular look-see in the big mirror. "It looks great, Joanna. You are so good."

  "Thanks," Joanna replied wryly. "I've had a lot of practice."

  Shari laid the mirror on the workstation counter and proceeded to write a check for her hairdo. "Let's go get lunch. I'll buy. I want to sh
ow you something. I need your opinion."

  Lunch sounded better now than it would have earlier. Now Joanna's stomach had taken on a different emptiness. She agreed and they strolled up the street to Betty Lou's Coffee Cup. As soon as they took seats in a red vinyl booth, Shari produced a large white envelope from her purse, pulled out a page filled with photographs and slid it across the table to Joanna. "This is what Jay's getting me for my birthday."

  Joanna gazed down at six pairs of women's naked breasts of varying shapes and sizes. Puzzled, she looked back at Shari. "Boobs? Or six women?"

  If Shari got the pitiful joke, she ignored it. Her eyes glinted with excitement. "Which ones do you like?"

  The young waitress came to take their order and Shari quickly turned the page of photographs facedown on the tabletop. She ordered a chicken Caesar salad and iced tea. Joanna ordered the same, plus a large chocolate milk shake. Today, she doubted her stomach would appreciate roughage without a cushion.

  As soon as the waitress went on her way, Joanna leaned forward and spoke in a low tone. "You're going to have a boob job?"

  "I've been saying I wanted to for a long time. You’ve heard me."

  Indeed she had, but the remark had always been offhand and not up for discussion. "Good grief, Shari, I thought you were kidding. You don't think you're big enough or what?"

  Now Shari leaned forward, her forearms on the table. "No, no, no, Joanna. It isn't about size. I can gather them up and fill up a D cup. How much more would a person want? It's about the way they look." She turned the page of photographs face up again.

  "Oh," Joanna said, realizing that she hadn't seen Shari naked probably since high school. "What's wrong with the way they look?"

  "They're wrecked. Lord, I've nursed four kids, and if you recall, Dillon nursed until after he was a year old. He nearly killed me."

  Being a hairdresser for years, besides gossip on almost every person in town, Joanna had heard discussion of women's issues from one end of the spectrum to the other. She mentally acknowledged that she might have heard that nursing sometimes damaged women's breasts, but today, she was too preoccupied with her own damage to even consider a friend's. "I don't know, Shari." She shook her head skeptically. "Isn't it major surgery?"

  Shari ignored Joanna's doubt. "They aren't even the same size now. One hangs down farther than the other. They look more like bananas than breasts."

  The young waitress returned with glasses of cold tea. Shari sat back and whisked the page of photographs into her lap.

  "Damn, Shari, I don't know what to say. And Jay thinks this is a good idea?" Joanna busied herself stirring Sweet'N Low into her tea.

  "He doesn't care. They're my boobs. He knows I’m self-conscious about them. And he knows it's what I want. Besides, he's only interested in what's below my waist anyway."

  Laughing, Shari peeled a straw and stuck it into her tea. "I told him I'm gonna get him a board with a knothole in it. Just to see if he notices the difference." She produced the page of photographs again. "So which ones do you like?"

  Joanna drew the page of pictures to her side of the table. Knowing Shari, there was no getting out of this. "I don't know." She thoroughly perused each pair of breasts, then pointed at the middle photograph on the left. "Those, I think."

  Shari smiled brightly. "I picked those, too. And those are the ones Jay likes, too." She turned the page back toward herself and studied the picture. "I like those because they look perky. I'm just going for a D cup. I'm short, you know? I don't want to be a freak."

  The waitress delivered their salads and Joanna's milk shake. Joanna sucked a large dollop through her straw. "God, that tastes good."

  A frown of concern crossed Shari's face. "Your stomach's really upset, huh? You probably caught something in the shop. Take some Pepto-Bismol. That's what I feed the kids when they have upset stomach."

  Joanna sucked up another drink of her milk shake. "When are you planning on doing this, Shari?"

  "Before Christmas. We're going on that cruise in February, you know? The Valentine's thing? It's kind of a second honeymoon. That's when I want to show them off. I've bought this sexy bustier thing that’s going to push them up real high." She scrunched up her shoulders and giggled mischievously. “And guess what else.

  "No idea," Joanna said. She tested a bite of chicken and washed it down with a swallow of tea. Her stomach was starting to feel better.

  "I got a pair of matching panties. Crotchless." Shari giggled again.

  "Good grief, Shari. Where did you get them?"

  "I ordered them from a catalog. I'm thinking about not waiting until Valentine's to show them off, though. I'm thinking about wearing them to Jay's office one day, perching my little ass on his desk and making him an offer he can’t refuse. When I spread my legs and offer it to him, that man goes blind as a bat and crazier than a hungry hound. Why, he could go down on me without even taking my panties off. Then if his dad or somebody walks in, it’s not such a mad scramble to get my clothes back on.”

  Last night bombarded Joanna’s memory. Dalton’s agile tongue had driven her to a place so far inside herself, she wouldn’t have noticed or cared if Clova had walked into the bedroom. Her only fear had been that he would stop.

  She choked on a bite of chicken and lapsed into a coughing spell. When she recovered, she said, “Shari, you can’t do that in Jay’s office.”

  “Why not. We’ve done it before. And that’s the point of crotchless. I’d wear a skirt, I could cover up real fast."

  Joanna blinked and sucked up another drink of her milk shake. Through the years, she had been privy to many of the graphic details of Shari and Jay's relationship. She had ceased being shocked or even surprised long ago, but sometimes, knowing the private moments between her two friends made facing Jay difficult. He could never figure out why Joanna sometimes couldn't look him in the eye or broke into laughter when he tried to talk about something serious.

  "Anyway, I need to get this operation done and get healed up,” Shari said. “So I won't be out of commission on that cruise, if you know what I mean."

  "Yeah, it would be too bad if something happened to keep you two from having sex."

  "Well, it would. I'll swear, Joanna, I don't know how you do it. Go without like you do."

  Joanna wanted to cry again. She inhaled a deep breath and leaned forward, pushing aside her salad. "Shari, can I ask you something?"

  No doubt the body language alerted Shari that something juicy was about to spill. "Is it about sex?"

  Joanna laughed in spite of her headache. "Besides raising kids, what else do you know anything about?"

  Shari leaned forward, too, until their foreheads were almost touching. "Ask me. You know you can ask me anything."

  "Exactly what days can you get pregnant?"

  "Joanna!" Shari's voice came in a stage whisper. "Are you sleeping with somebody?"

  "Shh." Joanna looked around the cafe to see who might have heard her. Fortunately, the lunch crowd had cleared out. "Just tell me. I haven't thought much about it in a long time. I've forgotten practically everything I ever knew about sex education."

  "I'm not surprised," Shari said. "You never practice."

  Joanna didn't need to be reminded, especially today. She opened her palms and gave her friend a look. "And when have I had time to practice?"

  Shari forked another bite of salad, sat back and held it above her plate, a professorial expression on her face. "Really, it's only about three or four days out of the month. Those little tadpole thingys have to be in there swimming around before your egg comes down. It's like they have to be waiting to ambush it. You just count fourteen days from the first day of your last period and figure you shouldn’t be messing around for three or four days before that. If you're trying not to get pregnant, that is. On the other hand, if you’re trying, that’s the right time."

  "Now why would I be trying to get pregnant?"

  "Oh, no!" Shari's brown eyes grew wide. "It's Alicia, isn't
it? I knew she was going to get caught, screwing around with that Pablo kid."

  "No! It isn't Alicia. And don't you dare tell people that. And you don't know that she screws around with him."

  Shari gave her a flat look. "Joanna. I'm not an idiot. And I'm not blind. And I have a houseful of teenage kids."

  "I don't want you spreading tales about Alicia."

  "Then it's you." She pointed a bite of lettuce on the end of her fork straight at Joanna's nose. "Yep, it's you, girlfriend. I can read you like a book. I've known you too long." She leaned across the table and whispered, "You went to Lubbock yesterday. You got back together with Scott Goodman."

  A rush of tears burned Joanna's eyes, but she blinked them back. "Dammit, Shari, I'm not ready to discuss it. I just want the answer to a simple question."

  A look of concern crossed Shari's face. "Oh, my God. You're upset. Joanna, I'm your best friend. You can tell me about it."

  Joanna quickly wiped the moisture from her eyes. "No. I'm not ready to talk about it."

  "Okay, don't tell me. But I know it's Scott. I heard he was wiped out when you broke off with him."

  Just go ahead and think that, Joanna thought.

  Shari's brow knit into a thoughtful frown and she rambled on. "At your age, I don't think you have to worry as much. Once you're past thirty, the odds against are real high."

  "Shari, get real. I see pregnant women my age every day."

  "I'll bet you don't see as many as you think."

  "How do you know this?"

  "Well..." Shari stirred her salad around her plate, then forked a chunk of chicken. "Because Jay and I started trying again a few years ago. We wanted another baby."

  "You didn't tell me that."

  "We didn't tell anybody. We didn't want people to get all excited. You know that old saying about a watched pot never boiling. I got off the pill and everything. Jay and I did it nearly every night for two months. He even came home at lunch a few times." She leaned forward again, still whispering. "Listen, we did it all kinds of ways. We used to get naked and watch porn movies and try some of that stuff."