Snow on Magnolias

by Hattie Mae

  “Are both of you in school?” she asked.

  “School hasn’t started yet.” Bea’s look of disgust further set Rose in her place. “And Lizzy is too young.”

  “Really. I went to school ever since I could remember, year round. My school was a boarding school in South Carolina.” Rose’s memories of those days still caused her anxiety. She should have known normal kids in normal families lived with their parents and attended regular school.

  “Did you really write a book? Or did you make that up, too?” Bea asked.

  Rose took in a deep breath. At last a question from Bea. “Yes.” Here was something she could talk about, she relaxed. “In fact I have written many books, but I’ve only sold four of them so far.”

  “Do they have pictures?” asked Lizzy.

  “No, I write books for grown-ups.”

  After what seemed like hours, they rounded a curve and like Aunt Odelia said ran right onto the main street of Bon Amie. The town had changed very little from what she remembered. A tree-lined street with store fronts on both sides. Some stores had rockers on the walkway some had benches where people sat and visited. Slowing down, Rose looked for Trudy’s salon.

  “Stop the car! That’s Trudy’s shop, Miss Rose,” Lizzy shrieked.

  Rose slammed on her breaks causing the two passengers in the back seat to lunge forward.

  “Good grief,” yelled Bea.

  “Are the two of you okay? I’m so sorry, girls, Lizzy startled me.” Rose’s insides shook. “Wait please let me park the car.”

  She had barely turned the car off when Bea had the seat belts undone and the door opened and she all but pulled Lizzy out of the car.

  “We’re going inside, where it’s safe,” Bea said.

  Rose rested her head on the steering wheel for a moment. “I knew I wasn’t good with kids. Maybe I should never be trusted with them to my care,” she whispered to the heavens.

  Closing the car door, she at the storefront. The large hand painted sign read “Hair Today Gone Tomorrow.” The letters popped out with their bright red color that sported white daisies intertwined against a black background.

  Surprise crossed her face as she opened the door into the strangest looking beauty salon she’d ever seen. Two salon chairs stood in front of a floor to ceiling mirror. Plants, pots, and an assortment of ribbons lined shelves along the opposite wall. A door, so short that one had to stoop to get in opened and out walked a cute little brunette. The first thing Rose noticed about the woman was her smile, so friendly and real. Rose liked the feel of the business. A place ready for just about anything. Just like the owner.

  “Come in, come in. The girls told me about the ride you gave them to town. Pull up a chair and keep me company while I shave two heads.” The petite woman with large bosoms and bigger hair, stood with an arm around both girls.

  “Hi, I’m Trudy Thibodeaux. You must be Rose?” Trudy said in a deep husky voice. “Odelia called and told me you would bring these two rag mops in for a trim.” She let Lizzy and Bea go and gently shoved them to the back of the store. “Girls put on those old shirts you like to wear.” Trudy cleared a basket of blue ribbons off a chair and motioned for Rose to sit.

  Rose couldn’t keep her lips from settling on a smile as Trudy teased and hugged the two girls as she cut their hair. “Lizzy, is Miss Abby getting her hair cut today?” Trudy held Lizzy’s doll up and examined her hair.

  “No, her hair doesn’t grow.” Lizzy giggled, and then retrieved her doll and sat Miss Abby in her lap. “She’s going to watch.”

  The closeness between the three was apparent. Bea and Lizzy’s faces lit up as they chatted with Trudy with such ease. The three of them held a special history, of that Rose was sure.

  As she observed Sam’s daughters, Rose once again was struck with the knowledge that neither of the girls had his eyes. What color were his eyes anyway? Were they a faded blue or a steel gray with a splash of green?

  The color was a mystery but the story buried deep in his eyes intrigued her. They seemed to hold in check all his hurts and disappointments. Had his wife caused all his pain, or was it someone else?

  “Rose?” Trudy called. “Boy you were way off somewhere. Do you want to be next?” Trudy stood back and cocked her head from one side to the other. “I could cut it in a style that would free those curls that keep trying to escape.”

  Rose quickly shook her head. “No, I better wait until I go into the city.” She caught herself and looked up to see if she had offended Trudy, but the woman’s face still held that I want to be your friend look.

  “I’m sorry. It’s just that my mother would never approve of me letting my curls loose. I better not.”

  Looking around the shop, Trudy eyes lit with mischief. “Is your mother here? I don’t see her, do you?” Trudy put a bow in Lizzy’s hair and lifted her down from the chair. “Okay you two beauties deserve a treat, how about you go to Miller’s drug store and get each of you a soda and be sure to tell Miss Maude all your family secrets. Come right back when you finished.”

  Lizzy planted a big kiss on Trudy’s cheek and glanced at Rose, and then tucked her chin down, and turned a light pink. Bea grabbed her hand and they ran out the door, giggling all the way down the sidewalk.

  “Those two just tug at your heart, don’t they?” Trudy said.

  “You know what, Trudy? If you have time I will have that cut. You’re right, my mother is not here to criticize and it is my hair.” Rose sat in the seat and made eye contact with Trudy in the mirror. “Cut away, Trudy, cut away.”

  “You can’t rush a master piece.” Trudy put oil in her hand and started to massage Rose’s head as she talked. “So how long are you planning to stay?”

  “I don’t know yet. I guess it depends how long I’m welcome. Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?”

  “Honey, in a small town there are no personal questions.”

  “Are you and Sam, you know, an item? The two of you talk so fondly about each other and anyone can see how crazy the girls are about you.”

  Trudy stopped massaging and grinned. “So, you’re sweet on Sam. Well don’t worry about me.” A grin as big as Trudy’s hair spread across her face. “At one time, I would have loved nothing more than to have one of the LeBlanc brothers take a liking to me, but they were slow as molasses. So I moved on and met my honey at the Cajun festival, right here in Bon Amie. He asked me to dance and one week later he asked me to marry him. That man was never one to let moss grow under his feet. He’s away on an oil rig, but he’ll be home in two weeks.”

  Trudy washed her hands in the sink and returned to Rose. “So if you want to go for Sam, go for it.”

  Heat crept up Rose’s body and settled in her face. “Mercy me, I’m not sweet on Sam. I don’t even know him, and besides I don’t want another man. Not now. Probably not ever.”

  “Don’t get excited. It’s okay. The more you know me, the more you’ll know that you would have to slap me backwards to offend me.”

  The shampooing led to more conversation, mostly from Trudy. Rose loved her accent and the way she threw southern sayings into her sentences. Back in the chair, the sound of Trudy’s scissors clicked in an even rhythm. Rose couldn’t remember when she’d felt so relaxed. The head massage Trudy had given her before the shampoo made her bones feel like rubber.

  “Boy that man Ted really did a number on you, didn’t he?”

  “How did you know? Did Aunt Odelia tell you?” Rose asked.

  “No, but if you think we are out of the know here, you haven’t met the Mouton sisters. Two of the sweetest women you’ll ever meet but don’t whisper too loud, they hear everything.” She let laughter out that was infectious. “They also tell everything. Feel like it’s their true gift in life to spread the news.” Trudy cut a few more curls and smiled as if she was truly satisfied. “If you ever want to talk, I’m a real good listener.” Trudy put the scissors down, dusted the hair off her face and neck with a large soft brush, and t
hen she turned Rose around to the mirror.

  “Wow.” Rose looked up at Trudy. “Thanks. You know my mother will hate this. But I love it.” Her red curls, still damp, bounced around her face freely.

  Trudy showed her around the shop, pride in her voice she informed Rose about her unusual business. “This place is a two-fer. I cut hair for both the living and the dead. My specialties are up-do’s and casket covers. I get to make people look good while they’re here and I’m blessed to do the same when they say their goodbyes.”

  “You really do hair for dead people?” Rose asked.

  “Sure. Some of my elderly clients have a standing appointment to have their hair fixed after they’re gone. They want to look nice for their showing.” Elbowing Rose, she added, “Sometimes that’s the only time they don’t complain.” Trudy released her musical laughter and had Rose laughing as well.

  “Trudy, do you know the two ladies peeking in your front window?” Rose asked about the two elderly ladies, one tall with gray hair piled on top of her head, the other one short with gray curly hair, both wearing red tennis shoes.

  “I was just talking about them, the famous Mouton sisters,” she said between bouts of laughter. She waved at them as they turned and walked down the sidewalk. “Now Rose you’ve seen Bon Amie’s own walking newspaper. So if you want to know anything, ask them.” Rose and Trudy’s laughter was interrupted by the sound of little girls giggling. “I hear the girls; the sugar must have hit. Good luck driving home.” Trudy said, walking Rose to the door.

  The door flew open and Lizzy came running in with chocolate on her face. She came to a halt in front of Rose. “You look beautiful, Miss Rose.”

  “Thank you, and so do you. Why don’t the two of you wash your hands and faces and then if you are ready, I think we should go. Aunt Odelia will need my help. She has a lot of pie baking today.” Rose waited until the girls returned and said. “Trudy, thank you and I hope we can talk again soon,” She reached out her hand for a shake and Trudy pulled her in for a hug.

  “Tell Odelia, I’ll be out later to help, I know this is a busy time for her, and with her arm broken they’ve had a heck of a time finding help.”

  Rose couldn’t hide the smile on her face as she left her new friend’s place of happiness. Her steps were as light as her bouncing curls. “Do you girls need to stop anywhere in town before we head back?” Rose asked enjoying the bright sunlight and soft breeze.

  “No, I need to get home. I have something to do,” Bea said.

  “Yeah, she wants to start a book,” Lizzy chimed in.

  “Shut up.”

  “A book? What fun, maybe I can help Bea?” Rose said.

  “No, I can do it myself. It’s a dumb idea anyway.”

  Rose put the car in gear, and they were on their way. She moved the rear view mirror so she could see Bea. “First off there are no dumb ideas. And you know writing is very fun, if you do need my help, please let me know.”

  Maybe I have something to offer these girls after all. Rose put the top down and allowed the sun to warm her spirits and her hair blow in the wind.

  Sam strolled out of the house when they drove up, only to be met by Bea as she stormed out of the car and ran to him.

  “Dad look! Look what she did. See my hair. She ruined it. Trudy had it fixed so nice, and Rose drove with the top down and messed it up.”

  Rose couldn’t believe her ears as Bea tattled on her, her hands on her hips and her back to Rose. Bea had laughed with glee as much as Lizzy did when the wind blew in their face. Rose, amazed as Bea’s tongue lashed out as many complaints as she could muster up, all the while her little hands were tightly fisted and her right foot just a patting. Rose mouth became dry and she knew she was on the verge of both laughter and tears.

  “And you know what else? She thought Lizzy went to school and–”

  “Enough Bea. Miss Rose was kind enough to drive you to town. Where are your manners?” Sam said, his eyes searched Rose’s. Seeking what? Answers, confession, Rose was not sure.

  Sam smoothed Bea’s hair gently with his large hands and then turned her face up to look into his. “Besides your hair looks great, you’re as pretty as a picture.” The look on his face reflected not anger, but the love he felt for this very disagreeable child.

  Lizzy tugged on his pants. “What about my hair, Papa? Does it look like a picture, too?”

  Rose turned around to hide the disappointment and a little jealousy. No one ever loved her like that when she was a child, and she envied the look he held for his daughters. She’d never known what it was like to have a dad, not a real one anyway. The dozen or so men in her Mom’s life didn’t count; they came and went like the seasons. No matter, she put shoulders back and stood straighter, she wasn’t a child any longer. She didn’t need anyone to love her to make her happy. She had decided that a long time ago. Happiness would have to come from her.

  “I’m sorry if they hurt your feelings, Rose,” Sam said.

  Rose hadn’t heard him approach until he spoke. “You are as quiet as a cat and have a habit of sneaking up on me.”

  “Excuse me, but for your information I don’t sneak.”

  “I didn’t mean. What I wanted to say was--. Oh never mind.” She bit her lower lip to keep from saying more of nothing. To be a lover of words, she never had the right ones handy to use when she needed them.

  Sam cocked his head to one side and watched her face for a moment. He seemed to choose his words very carefully. “Why do you do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Start to say something and then hold it back.”

  “What I usually have to say is not important and no one wants to hear a bunch of nonsense.”

  “Whoever told you that, Rose, was wrong. Everyone has the right to say whatever he or she thinks. You might be surprised who would listen.” Sam waited before he let his gaze leave her face.

  “Hey, thank you for taking my girls. That really helped me out, and not to mention the time it gave Odelia.” A smile flew across his face and stilled her heart.“ But, Bea is right you should not have driven with the top down. Not safe you know.” With a wink, he added, “You look like a picture too, Rose.” Sam jingled his keys and whistled as he ambled toward his truck.

  Rose’s feet wouldn’t move as she blatantly stared at his backside as he climbed into his truck and drove away. Basking in his words she decided it was time to find her aunt and get her mind off that confusing man.

  Odelia called out when she heard Rose come in the kitchen. “Hey, I knew I heard your steps. I would give you a big hug but as you can see I’m up to my elbows in flour.”

  Rose rounded the table and gave Odelia a small hug.

  “Rose you look absolutely beautiful. I love your haircut it suits you. Why don’t you change and keep me company? You can tell me everything.” Odelia put down the ball of dough she was forming and took Rose’s new look in, shooting her a smile Rose could tell she gave out freely. “Honey, you’ll never know how happy you’ve made me by being here. Now hurry back, I’ve been waiting all morning to hear about that uptight sister of mine.”

  Rose changed into old comfortable jeans and a tee shirt, all of which her mother hated, and glanced in the mirror at the curls bouncing on her head. Picking up the beat she bounced down the stairs, her gait light and free.

  She washed her hands at the sink and replied. “I’ll be glad to share my pitiful life with you but only if you allow me to help. I’m not the most graceful in the kitchen, but I so love to bake.” She looked around at the dough and the couple of bowls around her aunt. “What are we making?”

  “That darn Preston can sweet talk me into anything. I have six pies to bake, but he didn’t know that and he begged me for sweet dough fig pies.” Her love for those boys could be heard in her voice and with her actions through food.

  Her aunt dusted the large cutting board with flour. Her hands moving as the pro she was. “I can’t say no to these boys. They get to hugging on m
e and sweet talking, and before I know it I’m doing just what I said I wouldn’t do. That boy so loves to eat.” She took a drink out of the large glass of ice tea sitting in front of her. “I know they all love food, but my Preston has a love affair with every bite he eats. Pour yourself a glass of sweet tea, and I’ll show you how to make fig pies.”

  Aunt Odelia punched and pulled the dough into small circles then rolled them out flat in an effortless movement. Rose tried her hand at the process, but her dough had a mind of its own, and soon holes appeared and seemed to grow. “What did I tell you? I’m not very graceful in the kitchen.”

  “Never you mind, hon, you come behind me and spoon the filling in, then I’ll show you how to fold and seal them. Tell me, Rose, how’s your mom?”

  “The same, I’m sorry to say. She has a new man now; this one’s richer. So of course she’s happy for awhile.” Rose wiped her hands to remove the flour and began spooning the fig mixture onto the dough her aunt had rolled.

  “And as far as my failed wedding? According to mom, it was my fault. All my fault. You know the same old, same old. ‘If I had been more he wouldn’t have left me,’ she said. She leaned her hip against the table and thought for a moment. “You know, I don’t know how to be more. I try. In the end, I’m still just me, and we all know that’s not nearly enough.”

  Odelia shook her flour-covered finger at Rose. “You listen to me, you don’t have to be anything else to please people. What and who you are is more than enough. Don't let Ruth tell you any different. She’s one of those people that wouldn’t know how to be content if it killed her. Her idea of being successful is how much expensive stuff you have and the famous people you pretend to know. You know she wouldn’t be happy if she was the only hen in a chicken yard full of roosters.” Her aunt took a deep breath, “Be yourself, Rose, it’s the best part of who you are.”

  Was that pity on her aunt’s face? That was just what she didn’t want.