A New Attitude

by Charlotte Hughes

  Clara pursed her lips. “You may call it what you like, but they still serve alcohol.”

  “One drink before dinner never hurt anyone,” Ruby said.

  Clara looked at her. “This coming from a woman who has a distillery under the front seat of her truck.” She gave a harrumph. “Marilee, you simply cannot do this. What are folks going to say when they find out you’re playing piano in a bar? You know they’ll go straight to Grady, and he’ll do anything he can to make you look bad in front of that child advocate. This could definitely work against you.”

  Marilee shoved her plate aside. She had not thought of that. Would the child advocate hold it against her if she took a job in a supper club? She doubted it. But if Grady found out, he’d try to make her look as bad as he could, in order to make himself look good. “Pickford is thirty miles away,” she said, thinking out loud. “I wouldn’t think I’d run into anyone from Chickpea.”

  Clara didn’t look convinced. “You’re still taking a chance.”

  “I need the money, Clara.”

  “You could wear a disguise,” Ruby said. “I can fix you up so that your own mother wouldn’t recognize you. That way you won’t have to worry about any of the town gossips recognizing you. When do you plan to go for the interview?”

  “Tonight. I want to get a jump-start on the other applicants.”

  “I’ll run home and grab my supplies after I eat.”

  “Are you not going to eat your pizza?” Winnie asked Marilee.

  “And you plan to work at the funeral home too?” Clara asked.

  Marilee nodded. “I plan to do whatever’s necessary to get Josh back.”

  “If you’re not going to eat your pizza, I will,” Winnie said, reaching for the untouched slice.

  Clara sighed and reached into her purse, pulling out a small metal cylinder. “I know how you are when you make up your mind, so I’m not going to try and talk you out of it. But I’d feel better if you’d keep this pepper spray on you in case something unforeseen occurs.”

  “I don’t have the job yet,” Marilee said, “and I wish you’d stop worrying. The Pickford is not a sleazy beer joint.”

  “Oh, you’ll get the job,” Ruby assured her. “I don’t know a single soul who can sing and play the piano as well as you.”

  “Take the pepper spray, Marilee.”

  “Thank you, Clara,” she said, touched by her concern. “I know this is hard for you to accept. None of us ever suspected my life would take such a turn. I mean, Grady was a good minister. He genuinely cared about his congregation. And I just assumed all marriages had problems now and then, but I wasn’t prepared for this. I have to do what I have to do. It’s just…well, I’m a little overwhelmed at the moment.”

  “Oh, Lord, she’s going to start crying again,” Winnie said.

  Marilee shook her head. “I’m finished crying. I have too much to do to sit around and feel sorry for myself.”

  Ruby patted her hand. “Good for you, honey. You’re stronger than you think.”

  Winnie shook her head sadly. “It’s not going to be that easy. You’re going to need someone to look after you, make sure you eat regular meals and have clean clothes to wear. I guess I’m going to have to hang around awhile longer. At least until you get used to working all those hours.”

  “That’s very kind of you, Winnie,” Clara said. “Ruby and I will help too.”

  Ruby nodded emphatically. “Darn right we will.”

  “Thank you,” Marilee said. “I don’t know what I would do without the three of you.”

  “You’d probably do okay,” Winnie said. “You’re not as weak as I thought in the beginning.”

  Marilee decided that was the closest Winnie would come to giving her a compliment. She pushed her chair from the table. “I need to practice a few songs on the piano,” she said. “I’m sure it’s dreadfully out of tune, but at least it’ll help limber up my fingers.”

  Ruby stood. “And I need to run home and pick up a few supplies. For your disguise,” she added, winking conspiratorially.

  “Who’s going to clean up this mess?” Winnie demanded.

  “I’ll do it,” Clara volunteered.

  Winnie shook her head. “Never mind, I’ll do it. You don’t know where anything goes, and I can’t have you putting stuff in the wrong place, especially after I’ve cleaned the refrigerator and organized the cabinets.”

  MARILEE WAS PRACTICING ON the old piano when Ruby returned carrying a short, platinum-colored wig, a small suitcase and a flaming-red dress. “Belonged to my ex-roommate,” she said, holding the slinky outfit up for inspection. “The poor girl was a perfect size eight till her boyfriend dumped her, and she decided to eat her way through her depression. I think she was a size fourteen when she climbed on the Greyhound bus for home. Said I could do what I wanted with her clothes.”

  “I wear a size ten,” Marilee said.

  “That was before Grady ran off, honey. You’ve probably dropped ten pounds and don’t know it. Besides, if the dress is a little snug that’ll work in your favor. Now, sit down. I’m about to make a new woman out of you.”

  Clara and Winnie sat down as well and watched while Ruby worked her magic. When she was finished Marilee, who had never been heavy-handed with her makeup, couldn’t believe the difference.

  “Wow,” Winnie said. “You look like a movie star. If I’d looked that good when I told my old man I was pregnant, maybe he wouldn’t have walked out on me.”

  Clara didn’t look pleased. “I think it’s a bit much. Remember, less is more.”

  “She’s going to be working under dim lighting,” Ruby said. “So what do you think, honey?”

  “You did a fine job, Ruby. But I’ll never be able to learn how to do all this.”

  “I’ll teach you. In the meantime, I’ll plan to drop by after work each day so I can fix you up.” She began pinning up Marilee’s hair, and then put the wig in place. “What d’you think?” she said.

  Winnie gave Ruby the thumbs-up. “Lookin’ good.”

  “Marilee is a beautiful woman. All I did was enhance her features. Now, let’s get you into that dress.” She grabbed the garment and ushered Marilee into her bedroom. When they returned, Marilee’s cheeks were stained the color of the dress.

  Winnie’s eyes almost popped out of her head. “That thing clings to you like a second skin. I didn’t realize you had such a nice figure. You have to stop dressing like a librarian.” Clara cleared her throat. Winnie looked at her. “Guess I shouldn’t have said that, huh?”

  Marilee tried not to take offense. “I think my clothes are fashionable.”

  “A little on the prim side,” Winnie said, “but hey, I’m not exactly on the cutting edge of fashion.”

  Ruby preened over her handiwork. “I’ll bring over a few more dresses tomorrow night.”

  “Just keep that pepper spray handy,” Clara said, “in case some man loses control of his desires the minute he sees you.”

  Marilee walked them to the front door. Once they were on their way, she closed the door and leaned against it. Her stomach was tied in knots at the thought of what she was about to do. Perhaps it was time she took a few chances in life.

  The doorbell rang, startling her. Marilee figured Ruby must’ve forgotten some of her supplies. She opened the door and found Sam Brewer standing there.

  “Marilee, is that you?” he asked, blinking several times.

  She’d forgotten for a moment how she was dressed. She blushed. “Hello, Sam.”

  “You look…different.”

  “Yes, I suppose I do,” she said, patting the wig self-consciously. “I’m sort of in a hurry. Is there something I can do for you?”

  He handed her the iron. “I wanted to return this. I found mine.” He remained standing there. He knew he was staring—gawking, actually—but he couldn’t help himself.

  “Thank you.” He continued to stand there. “Anything else?”

  “Huh?” With some difficulty, S
am managed to pry his eyes from the red dress that clung to her figure so well. Damn, but she looked good. “Oh, yeah. I stopped by Blessing Home today. I have to tell you, Marilee, it needs a lot of work. The place looks like it’s ready to collapse.”

  “But it can be repaired, right?”

  “We’re talking a lot of money.”

  “Will three thousand dollars cover it?”

  He shook his head, hoping to clear his brain. All the blood had obviously rushed to another part of his body. “It won’t even come close. There’s structural damage.”

  Marilee sighed. “We’ll have to come up with more money. Can you at least start working on the roof?” she asked, wishing he had chosen another time to burden her with the news. She had enough to worrying about at the moment.

  “I’m kind of backed up on my other jobs, so I’ll have to do it in my spare time.”

  She was beginning to wonder if the girls would ever be able to move back into the home. “Thank you, Sam, that’s very thoughtful of you. I know you’ll do your best. Send me an invoice for the roof, and I’ll get our treasurer to write you a check right away.”

  As she watched him go, she wondered where on earth they would find the money to do all the work that was needed. But she couldn’t worry about that now.

  She had an audition.

  CHAPTER SIX

  PICKFORD WAS TWICE THE SIZE of Chickpea and boasted a medium-size mall, which was the only reason Marilee had visited the town in the past. She drove Josh there to shop for school clothes once a year, and she returned in December for Christmas gifts. As soon as she arrived, she stopped at a convenience store and asked for directions to the address listed in the newspaper.

  The Pickford Inn sat back from the road and was surrounded by a stone wall. Massive oak and magnolia trees grew on the manicured lawn; azalea bushes skirted the building. An old carriage sat out front, and large whiskey barrels on either side of the double front doors held an assortment of flowers. Marilee parked near the entrance, grabbed her stack of sheet music and climbed from the car. The wig felt like a vise on her head and made her scalp itch. Marilee wondered why any woman in her right mind would wear one.

  Inside, she was greeted by a slim brunette in a smart black cocktail dress who stood near a Queen Anne desk looking over a list of reservations. “May I help you?”

  Marilee introduced herself. “I’m here about the job.”

  “Oh, yes. Let me find the owner, Mr. Helms. Please excuse me.”

  Marilee watched the woman literally glide from the room, and she wondered if she would ever learn to walk with such grace. She peeked inside the dining room. One wall was dominated by a stone fireplace, in front of which sat a baby grand piano. A long bar was situated on one side, the stools covered in a deep, hunter-green leather that was repeated in the chairs that surrounded small cocktail tables. Crisp, white cloths draped the dining tables, and candles flickered from crystal containers. The setting was intimate, with an understated elegance. A sign announced a prime rib special. A menu was posted on the wall beside it. Marilee gave it a cursory glance, noting the prices. She could buy a week’s worth of groceries for what it would cost a couple to buy dinner.

  “Miss Abernathy?”

  Marilee turned and found herself facing a strikingly handsome man who looked to be in his mid-forties. “Mr. Helms?”

  “Call me Jack.”

  “And I’m Marilee,” she said, offering her hand, at the same time wondering if he thought she looked like a slut in her outfit. He took her hand.

  “Tell me, Marilee. Can you play “I Left My Heart in San Francisco”?”

  “I’m almost certain I have the sheet music.”

  “If you don’t, I do. Come this way, please.”

  She followed him through the dining room to the piano, where she discovered a book opened to the sheet of music Jack Helms had requested. He sat at a table nearby and smiled.

  “Anytime you’re ready, Marilee.”

  She set her own music, as well as her pocketbook, on the floor beside the bench and took her seat, squaring her shoulders and sitting high as her piano teacher had taught. Her hands were damp and shook slightly, but after years of lessons and performing for one charity event after another, she ignored it. She placed her hands over the keys and began. She waited until she was halfway through the song before chancing a look in Jack’s direction. His eyes were closed; he seemed to be drifting, as though in another time and place.

  She finished the song and waited. It was a full minute before Jack spoke. He looked as if he was trying to compose himself.

  “You play beautifully, Marilee,” he said, his voice choked with emotion. “I don’t believe I’ve ever heard that song played so skillfully. It was a favorite of my late wife.”

  “Oh my,” Marilee said. “Has she been…gone long?”

  “Ten years. Died in a car accident. She was a beautiful woman.”

  Marilee could almost feel the sorrow emanating from him. “You’ve never remarried?”

  He shook his head. “No. I was devoted to her.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “You may start this evening if you like. All that I ask is that you open and close with that song. In memory of Teresa.”

  Marilee had never been fond of “I Left My Heart in San Francisco,” but she would have played the theme song to “Sesame Street” if it meant getting the job. “I would be honored, Jack,” she said and meant it. “In memory of your wife.”

  He smiled, although it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Why don’t we go into my office? I think you’ll find my terms very generous.”

  Once Jack discussed the job and her pay—fifty dollars a night plus tips—she filled out the necessary forms.

  “You’ll have a lot of requests,” Jack said, “and our customers tip generously. We cater to an older crowd. They enjoy soft dinner music. You’ll only be expected to play from seven to ten Tuesday through Thursday. Monday is our slowest night, so you’ll have that night off. But I’ll need you until midnight on the weekends. Any questions?”

  “When do you want me to start?”

  “Tonight, if you could. I know this is short notice. If it’s not convenient—”

  “Tonight is fine. I think I’ll go ahead and get started so I can warm up before the crowd comes in.”

  “Good idea. You can leave your purse in here if you like. I keep the office locked.” They shook hands once more before going their separate ways.

  Marilee stopped by the ladies’ room and checked her makeup. The lighting was soft, so her blush and eye shadow didn’t stand out as it had at her kitchen table, and the short wig enhanced her features, even if the blond color had more silver in it than she would have liked. Perhaps she should have her own hair cut, she thought. She held her head high as she exited the bathroom and glided toward the dining area in much the same way the hostess had earlier. If only Grady could see her now.

  No, the last thing she needed was for him to see her, she reminded herself. That’s why she was in disguise.

  Several tables had been seated in her absence. Marilee smiled at the diners and sat on the piano bench. She adjusted the microphone. “Good evening, ladies and gentleman,” she said, purposefully avoiding giving them her name. “I’m going to be playing for you this evening. Please feel free to send me your requests. I’d like to dedicate this first song to Teresa.” She began playing “I Left My Heart in San Francisco.” Jack, on his way to the kitchen, paused and listened, a wistful look in his eyes.

  No man should be that lonely, Marilee thought as she began singing to the music. Jack looked surprised, and then delighted. Soon she lost herself in the music, as she often did. As she finished playing “The Way We Were,” Marilee looked up to find the hostess approaching her. She covered the microphone.

  “Jack said to take a break,” the woman whispered. “Would you like something to drink? A cup of coffee or iced tea? Just grab it in the kitchen.”

  Marilee decided a
cup of coffee was just what she needed. She thanked her audience and informed them she was taking a short break. She’d already had at least a dozen requests in the two hours she’d been playing, and the crystal bowl on the piano was already half-full of dollar bills.

  The kitchen bustled with activity, and the smells that had tempted her all evening sent her mouth watering the moment she walked through the swinging doors. Waitresses smiled and nodded, and a couple of them introduced themselves as they sailed past with large food trays and shoved through the door leading in to the dining room. Marilee was already beginning to feel at home. She drank her coffee, stopped by the ladies’ room and returned to find a number of requests written on bar napkins, accompanied with a dollar bill or two.

  By the end of her set, Marilee was beginning to get hungry, but she couldn’t remember when she’d last enjoyed herself as much. The dining room was almost empty now, with the exception of a couple of tables that had come in late and were finishing up. Marilee thanked everyone for coming, and then ended her set with “I Left My Heart in San Francisco.”

  “Honey, you were great,” one of the waitresses said as Marilee pulled her tips from the crystal container on the piano. She would count them when she got home. “My name’s Gertie Johnson.”

  “Nice to meet you, Gertie. I’m Marilee.”

  “I’ve been here since the place opened eight years ago. You need anything, you tell me, okay?”

  “Thank you.”

  Jack beamed as he unlocked the door to his office. “The crowd loved you,” he said. “You’ll be back tomorrow night, right?”

  Marilee nodded as she grabbed her purse. “Seven o’clock sharp.”

  The drive home seemed to take forever. Marilee yawned most of the way, although it was only ten-thirty. She supposed she was tired from all the excitement.

  Winnie did not look happy to see her when she walked through the door. “What’s wrong?” Marilee asked, pulling the wig off and setting it on top of the piano.

  “What’s wrong?” Winnie echoed, hands on hips. Dressed in a purple housecoat she looked quite formidable. “Nothing, except I’ve been worried sick all night. Where’ve you been?”