by A. C. Arthur
“Hey Rosie, y’all got any cancellations?” Monica, a regular at Innovations, came in on a fresh gust of cold air from outside.
“Now Monica, you know it’s Friday and it’s Valentine’s Day. The other girls are booked solid and I’m finished for the day.” Monica was stuck-up, and a pain in her wide behind, so Rosie didn’t even entertain the idea of putting her in her chair.
“Come on, I know Nikki can probably squeeze me in.” Standing on her tiptoes, Monica tried to spot Nikki’s chair in the back. To her chagrin, Nikki was styling a client and had another client sitting in the chair across from her, waiting.
“Uh un, she got two back there and three waiting and she’s going out tonight. She ain’t takin’ no walk-ins. Why didn’t you make an appointment?”
“I forgot. I thought I was going to be out of town but then things changed. Can’t I just wait and see if she’ll take me?”
“You can wait, but I don’t think she will.”
“I’ll ask her when she comes up,” Monica said hopefully.
“Suit yourself,” Rosie told her.
Nikki wasn’t going to take her. Rosie knew that for a fact. Nikki was going out with Brock Fuller tonight. She’d sashayed and primped and chased that man for a full month until he’d finally asked her out and, now that she had her second date with him, she wasn’t about to miss it. Nope, Monica would be sitting there looking stupid for a few hours before she’d finally give up and go home with her hair looking just as it had when she’d come in.
As the hours passed, ladies came in and out of Innovations, dropping lots of money on their way out. Rosie carefully counted all that money and placed it in the moneybag in the bottom drawer. When she saw Donald later, she’d give him tonight’s earnings, along with the receipts.
Rosie had worked at Innovations since its opening five years ago, but she’d only started dating Donald, the owner of the shop, five months ago. Donald was a good man. His wife had died three years earlier from lung cancer and he had concentrated solely on the business after that. But when the shop finally started turning a good profit, he’d relaxed a bit. His two daughters were grown and married with children now, so, after his wife’s passing, he was alone.
A few days before Halloween he’d come into the shop and asked Rosie if she’d go to a Halloween party with him. She’d agreed and, in time, they’d become an item.
Although Rosie hadn’t dated in more than twenty-five years, Donald was a good friend, and it hadn’t seemed so awkward when they started dating. Now Rosie had become accustomed to being with him. And just in the last month they’d started sleeping together. She discovered that she had missed that intimacy.
Sitting at the receptionist’s desk gave her the opportunity to keep an eye on what was going on outside the front door. In the last few weeks there’d been a lot of strange cars parked in their parking lot, and men they didn’t know driving them. All sorts of rumors were floating around, some of which involved the beauty shop.
An hour before closing time, a long black limo pulled in front of the shop window. The two ladies that were still waiting to get their hair done stared out the window, wondering who would emerge from the vehicle. Rosie stopped massaging lotion into her hands and fixed her eyes on the limo.
The driver of the limo got out of the car first with a vase full of red roses. As he made his way to the front door, the ladies in the shop began to chatter.
“Oooh wee! Somebody’s gettin’ flowers,” Monica said from her seat closest to the door.
“Damn! It’s a lot of them, too. That’s about three hundred dollars worth, I figure,” Ms. Ruth assessed.
The girls in the back all stopped doing hair to see who the flowers were for.
“Nikki, you think they’re from your sugar daddy?” Keesha asked, referring to Brock Fuller, who was about fifteen years older than Nikki.
“No, my ‘sugar daddy,’ as you put it, wouldn’t be so predictable as to bring me flowers on my job.” Nikki rolled her eyes at Keesha, but kept her eye on the door just in case.
“Well, I know it ain’t mine. Ricky’s too cheap to pay my way into the movies, let alone buy me some roses.” Keesha rolled her eyes at the thought of the boyfriend she’d been planning to dump for the last six months.
“Ms. Rosetta Pierce?” the driver asked as he made his way through the door and over to the desk where Rosie sat.
Eyes bulged and jaws dropped as the girls wondered who had sent Ms. Rosie flowers.
“Oh my, that’s me.” Rosie’s newly moisturized hand went to her beating heart.
“Read the card, ma’am.” The driver pointed to the little white card sticking out of the side of the flowers.
“Oh, okay.” With shaking fingers, she removed the card from its envelope.
Scribbled in black ink, the words stood out on the cardboard paper: Will you marry me? Nod once for yes and twice for no. Rosie shut her eyes, afraid she’d read it wrong. But when she opened her eyes again, the words were still there. Her heart hammering in her chest, she had to struggle to remain calm. All eyes were on her, and she wasn’t about to act a fool for an audience.
It was Donald, she knew. And he was proposing to her. Here at the shop on Valentine’s Day, he was asking her to marry him. Rosie had lost her husband, Paul, twenty-five years ago to a car accident. And she’d raised her only son, Terrell, by herself until he’d gone away to college. Up until last October she hadn’t given another man a thought. And re-marrying had been the farthest thing from her mind.
But then Donald had come into her life. A friend and confidant had turned into a lover. And she cherished him. She loved him.
Now he wanted to marry her. Her heart was so full she thought it would surely burst.
“What does it say?” Monica yipped.
“Who’s it from, Ms. Rosie?” As was her nosy nature, Keesha approached the front desk.
Rosie knew her answer and lifted her head to see out to the limo. But the driver and Monica were standing in front of her, blocking her view. If she couldn’t see the car, then the person in the car couldn’t see her, and he wouldn’t know her answer.
One thick honey brown arm stretched out to move the driver aside, while, with the other, she elbowed Monica out of the way. Standing in front of the window with the name Innovations spelled out in swirling letters, Rosie nodded her head one time and waited for the car door to open.
Within seconds the door to the limo opened and Donald eased his way out of the back seat. He wore a black suit, crisp white shirt and bright red tie. A long black wool overcoat hung on his large frame, protecting him from the cold winter night. His hair was cut close, and his goatee glistened with gray. His full mouth was spread into a large smile.
Ignoring the gasps and murmurs behind her, Rosie gave her complete attention to the man making his way through the door. The bell chimed when it opened, but Rosie didn’t hear it. Holding his arms out for her, Donald welcomed his bride-to-be.
Rosie threw her big arms around Donald’s thick neck and hugged him tight. His arms, too, were fat and short, but made their way almost completely around Rosie’s large waist. Somebody started to clap, and then applause filled the room as Donald kissed Rosie right there in the middle of the shop.
* * *
Plopping down on the couch, Leah gathered her blanket close and snuggled deep into the cushions of the sofa. It was Valentine’s Day, and she was spending it alone. Rather, she was spending it with a steamy romance novel, eating Cheez-Its and sipping Pepsi. She’d carefully nipped her would-be Valentine in the bud last night.
Leon hadn’t been happy, but she’d kissed him one more time for good measure, rubbed his chest a little more softly than usual, then told him she wasn’t ready to sleep with him. He’d looked at her strangely, and for a moment she’d thought he was going to protest. But then his thick lips spread into a wide grin and he’d brushed his fingers over her cheek. “Your time is running out, Leah.”
What the hell is that suppo
sed to mean?
She said goodnight again and closed the door, locking it securely. “No, Leon, your time’s running out.”
Some would call her a tease, but she considered it taking her time, looking before she leapt.
The phone rang just as she was opening her book. With a deep sigh, she leaned over to pick up the receiver.
“Hello?”
“Hi, baby.” Her mother’s voice echoed through the line. “I knew you’d be home. What you doing?”
Her voice crisp and to the point, Leah answered, “Nothing.”
“Girl, I’m about ready to put this man out, you hear me?”
Oh Lord, here we go again. Marsha Baker was on husband number five, Darryl Baker, who owned several barber shops around the city. Leah thought Darryl was a nice man, even though he was almost sixty. Her mother had married him last year after having an affair with him for two years and finally convincing him to divorce his wife.
“What’s wrong now, Mama?” It was a shame she couldn’t muster any sympathy for her own mother. Wasn’t that pitiful? No, she told herself, it was honest. Her mother went through husbands like a cheap pair of shoes, and Leah was long past the point of trying to figure out why.
“You know he ain’t even came in here with my Valentine’s gift yet?” Marsha screeched into the phone.
“Mama, the night’s not over yet. And besides, I told you this was a stupid holiday anyway.” Rolling her eyes toward the ceiling, Leah slammed her book on the table. She’d be on the phone with her mother at least another forty-five minutes, discussing why Darryl was a bum and how soon she was going to put him out and move on.
Settling herself, Leah prepared for the tedious conversation. It was just more evidence for never getting married.
CHAPTER TWO
Rosie and Donald spent the entire weekend together at a little bed and breakfast on the Eastern Shore. And on Tuesday morning Rosie was glowing like a light bulb when she walked into Innovations.
“Good morning, Ms. Rosie.” Keesha was sitting in Rosie’s chair talking on the phone when she came in.
“Good morning.” Rosie took off her coat and hung it on the coat rack near the door. Moving toward her station, she signaled for the girl to get out of her chair. “My clients will be coming in soon. It don’t look good with you sitting there on the phone.”
“I’ll be done in a minute.” Keesha continued with her conversation, one long skinny leg propped up on the counter as she giggled into the receiver.
“You’re done now, girlie.” Rosie snatched the phone out of her hand and slammed it into its holder. “Now get out of my chair before I hurt you.” Rosie stood over the girl, waiting for her to move. She knew she would. For as sassy and mouthy as Keesha was, she knew that when Rosie meant business, she meant business.
“Alright, you don’t have to get all uptight. What’s the matter, you didn’t get any over the weekend?” Keesha smiled coyly as she made her way out of the chair.
“That ain’t none of your business. Now move, I gotta see when Leah’s coming in again.” Rosie flipped through the appointment book, looking for the name.
Rosie had been doing Leah Graham’s hair since she was in high school. Leah was a good girl, punctual, professional and pretty as a picture. On more than one occasion she’d wished Leah could turn her son’s head. But they both seemed so hell-bent on their careers they didn’t have time to find the right person.
Leah was a wedding planner who ran her own shop down in Mount Vernon. When Cheryl Pinder had gotten married last summer, Leah had planned her wedding and reception and it had been beautiful. That was the kind of wedding Rosie pictured for herself.
Per Donald’s instructions, she was to plan the wedding however she wanted, and she wanted it to be perfect. She’d married Paul Pierce in her mother’s living room with twenty-five of her closest family members assembled, flocking around the floral-patterned furniture as her father led her down the staircase to meet the man she planned to spend the rest of her life with. Potted plants had lined the living room, while two-dozen daisies had been perched high atop the mantelpiece behind the minister. The ceremony had lasted all of fifteen minutes before it became a regular family gathering with cousins and uncles and aunts filling and re-filling their plates, then sitting around talking about old times.
They hadn’t had a honeymoon because Paul was leaving for the army two weeks later. So Rosie had moved into their one bedroom apartment and set up house by herself. She’d worked at the Hecht Company eight hours a day and come home at night to the quiet little apartment. Then she’d found out she was pregnant.
“Hey, did y’all hear what went down last night?” Nikki came out of the bathroom talking, and approached Rosie and Keesha’s station with a catlike saunter.
Rosie paused, looked over at the young girl. Nikki and Keesha were Leah’s age—all of them young enough to be her daughters, most of the time acting just like they were. “What happened?” she asked.
Nikki rested her big breasts on the back of the chair while surveying her nails. “Some dumb ass drug dealers got into a fight out in the parking lot. By the time the police got here, one person had been stabbed.”
“Is that why I saw all that yellow tape out there this morning?” Keesha queried.
Nikki nodded. “Yup. I heard it was a mess. The cops will probably be snooping around here this morning.”
Rosie half listened to them, her mind still on her pending nuptials. She’d put her hands in her lap the moment the girls came near enough to see. She planned to tell them about her engagement but wanted the timing to be perfect. Still, she chimed in. “Good, maybe those trespassers will get the hint once they see the police and stop hanging around here. Some of my customers are starting to complain. They’re afraid to take late appointments because they don’t want to be out there at night.”
“All they need is a good ol’ can of Mace, like I carry in my bag,” Keesha quipped.
Nikki sucked her teeth. “Girl, please, Mace ain’t no match for a gun.”
“Anyway, Ms. Rosie, why are you looking for Leah?”
Lifting her hands and placing them flat on the desk Rosie smiled. “I’d like her to plan my wedding.”
“Your wedding!” Keesha screamed first. “Ms. Rosie, you gettin’ hitched?” She’d been walking back to her booth when Rosie’s words stopped her cold. Now she all but ran back to where the woman stood.
Nikki moved in closer, scooping Ms. Rosie’s left hand from the desk. With her free hand she covered her eyes as if blinded by the glare. “Damn, that’s a pretty piece of ice! Who are you marrying?” she asked while still surveying the jewel. Then, as if the revelation finally hit her, she looked at Rosie. “Uh-uh, wait a minute. I know Mr. Donald didn’t ask you to marry him.”
When Rosie didn’t answer, only smiled, both girls broke into screeches and screams.
“Oh my God! That is so cute.” Keesha leaned against Rosie’s high-backed chair and put her arms around her. “I’m so happy for you and Mr. Donald. Y’all make a cute couple.
And he’s got good taste in jewelry,” she added, after her own perusal of the engagement ring.
“That limo and those roses, that’s what that was all about? He proposed on Valentine’s Day! That is so romantic!” Nikki clapped her hands together in excitement. But as quickly as it had come, Nikki’s elation faded slightly. “Are you sure about this, Ms. Rosie? I mean, Mr. Donald’s cool and everything, but you know what they’ve been saying.”
They had all heard the rumors, but Rosie would put a stop to them right now. “Chile, that’s nonsense and a bunch of foolishness. That stuff happened a long time ago, before me and him even started seeing each other.” Rosie huffed and went about taking her combs and other accessories out of her drawer. “Donald’s not like that now.”
Both Keesha and Nikki knew when to keep their mouths shut. In fact, Nikki felt like a total idiot now for even bringing it up. “Well, Leah will definitely plan you a slammin’
wedding.”
Rosie grinned, relieved that they weren’t going to have a long drawn-out conversation about Donald’s past. “That’s what I know. She’s coming in at eleven today. I’ve got to hurry up and call Terrell.”
“Where’s he been hidin’?” Nikki asked. “Him and that fake girlfriend of his still together?”
Keesha laughed. “Girl, the last time she was in here I couldn’t believe all that weave she had. Poor bald horsey.”
Nikki slapped her five as they both giggled.
“That’s not funny,” Rosie chirped, trying to hide her own grin as she dialed her son’s number. “Hush, the phone’s ringing,” she whispered to them.
The phone rang three times before someone picked it up. It was a woman.
“Ah, hello? This is Rosie Pierce, I’m Terrell’s mother. Is he there?” The female seemed angry as she called Terrell to the phone.
“Hello?” Terrell all but yelled into her ear.
“Well, hello to you too,” Rosie answered.
“Mama?”
“Yes, it’s your mama, not that you’d recognize my voice, since I haven’t heard from you in so long.” It had been at least two weeks since she’d spoken to him, and she missed him terribly.
Terrell’s tone changed dramatically. “I could never forget my mama’s voice. How are you? Is something wrong?”
“No, nothing’s wrong and I’m doing just fine. How are you? Did I interrupt something? You and your young lady sound a little upset.”
Terrell and Tanya had been in the middle of tidying up their last connections. She’d left some things behind the other day, he suspected purposely, and today she’d come by to get them. Her attempts to talk to him, to explain where they’d gone wrong, were lost on him, and he wasted no time telling her this. She’d retaliated by accusing him of seeing someone else, and had answered the phone in anticipation of talking to the new woman in his life. “Nah, just tying up loose ends, Mama. So what’s been going on with you?”