Pretty Is as Pretty Does

by Debby Mayne

  Once we’re inside in the cloakroom, Priscilla asks Tim to get me something to drink and Patrick to get me a wet paper towel. I know that’s her way of getting us alone.

  “You’ve been covering for Pete far too long, Laura. He was fortunate this time, but he can’t go on like this.” She sighs. “Not only that, you and your children can’t continue like this.”

  “What do you want me to do?” I ask as my eyes start to burn with tears. “I can’t just tell Pete to stop drinkin’. I’ve tried that, and it doesn’t work. I even took his keys, but he must have taken ’em back.” All my pride has vanished, and Priscilla has seen me at my worst, but I’m actually relieved to not have to put on an act with her anymore. As much as I hate to admit this, even to myself, I trust her. “I feel so helpless right now.”

  “I’ll try to help you out while I’m in town,” Priscilla says. “We can find someone who knows how to handle his condition and maybe get him in a group.”

  “Like AA?” I ask.

  She nods. “Something like that.”

  “He tried that once when I threatened to leave, but he left the meetin’ and said it was the stupidest thing he’s ever done.”

  “You need to be strong,” Priscilla says. “And it wouldn’t hurt to pray.”

  “Honey, I pray all the time, but it doesn’t seem to work for Pete.” I sniffle and wipe my eyes with the back of my hand. “Sometimes I think Pete’s too far gone for even God to do anything about him.”

  Priscilla takes both of my hands in hers, squeezes them, and shuts her eyes. I see her mouth movin’, but no sound is comin’ out. I suspect she’s praying on her own for me instead of with me, which is just fine because I don’t think God pays a bit of attention to me anymore. I feel like a squawkin’ young’un after years of praying for help for Pete. He’s not gettin’ any better, so I might as well save my breath.

  When she opens her eyes, I see the concern on her face. “Why are you doin’ all this for me?” I ask. “It’s not like me and you have been close friends.”

  “I’ve always respected you,” she says. “No one has ever worked harder than you at everything you do.”

  “Ain’t that the truth.”

  She smiles. “Well, I for one, appreciate your efforts. Now let’s get you home.”

  For the first time I can remember, I let someone else take charge. Priscilla and Tim bring me home, leaving Celeste and Jimmy in charge of the party until they get back.

  I start to make sounds that I’m worried about the event, but Priscilla asks, “What’s the worst thing that can happen if you’re not there?”

  I think about her question and can’t come up with anything solid since everything that could go wrong already has, so I relax and let her take care of me. She even helps me get into my PJs and tucks me in. I never would have believed I’d be thinking this, but I like the feelin’ of having someone else in charge for a change.

  “Call me if you need me,” she says before turning off the light and leaving my bedroom.

  When I wake up the next morning, I feel like I’m the one who got inebriated. My head hurts, my mouth is dry, and I can’t remember everything right away. Then as I sip my coffee, it starts coming back to me. I take my time and enjoy having the house to myself, without any of the guilt I normally feel.

  The phone rings, and I’m pretty sure it’s Priscilla. I don’t even bother lookin’ at caller ID before answering.

  It is Priscilla asking if I need anything. She’s on her way to church, but she can stop by on her way home. I start to tell her I’m fine and I don’t need a thing, but then I stop myself and remember how good it felt to have someone taking care of me last night.

  “Can you go with me to see Pete later on?” I ask. “They’ll only let me see him for a little while.”

  She hesitates just long enough for me to know that’s not what she had in mind, but then she says, “Sure, I’ll be glad to.”

  After we make plans, I get up from the kitchen table and putter around the house before stepping into the shower. I stand there and let the water wash away some of the aches and pains I got last night when I passed out. Amazing what running water can do for a body. If it didn’t cost so much, I might stay in there all day.

  I do everything but brush my hair before Priscilla arrives. Since she’s so eager to help me out, I figure I can take advantage of her skills and at least look good another day. That’s the thing about last night. I walked into the gym feelin’ like a million bucks, with my hair all done up and my fingernails still tinglin’ from the only professional manicure I’ve ever had in my entire life.

  Priscilla arrives at precisely the time we agreed upon. I lean over and look for Tim. “Where’s your boyfriend?”

  She winces. “If you’re talking about Tim, he had to head on back to Jackson.”

  “When are you going back?” I ask as I motion for her to follow me upstairs.

  “I’m sticking around a little longer than I originally planned. I have some personal matters to attend to.”

  I know she’s talkin’ about Maurice, but I don’t mention his name, since I figure if she wants to talk about him, she can do it when she’s good ’n ready. She takes the brush I hand her, and without saying another word, she starts to work her magic on my hair. When she’s done, I look at myself in the mirror and see a half-attractive woman with great hair.

  “Can you teach me that trick you do to make my face seem skinnier?”

  “Sure,” she says. “Where’s your makeup?”

  I have a drawer full of makeup I’ve never figured out how to use. One of my friends has makeup parties, and I always buy something, but when I get it home, I can’t remember how the lady told us to use it, so it’s been goin’ to waste in my drawer.

  Priscilla takes the time to explain contouring and shading to give the illusion of a thinner face and higher cheekbones. We both know we’re stalling for time as she shows me how to use eye shadow without looking like a painted lady. And who knew there were so many tricks to applying lipstick? I always just smeared it on, staying inside the lines the best I could. I always figured this was what my kindergarten coloring skills were preparing me for.

  “There ya go,” she says as we both study my image in the mirror. “You’re a beautiful woman, Laura.”

  “I am,” I say as I stare at myself in wonder. “I really am.”

  “Have you talked to Pete yet today?” she asks, popping that bubble of magic and reminding me we can’t put off reality any longer.

  “No, not yet.” The instant those words escape my lips I feel remorse. What kind of wife am I to think about myself when my husband is lying there in the hospital?

  “Good,” she says, surprising me. “Let me call and see if I can get some information before we go. I don’t like surprises.”

  She goes into the kitchen to make the call while I stay in the bedroom. I try to make her think I need to change shoes, but I’m sure she probably knows I want to look at myself some more.

  “Laura,” she hollers. “Whenever you’re ready, we need to get on over to the hospital.”

  I take one last glance in the mirror and smile at myself before going downstairs. Priscilla looks at my shoes but doesn’t say a word about the fact that I’m still wearin’ the ones I had on when she got there.

  On the way to the hospital, she explains that the doctors want to keep Pete another day, which worries me because he’s already used up all his sick days, and now his paycheck will get docked. This has happened before, and the struggle to make ends meet squeezes all the life out of me.

  Instead of seeing a sick man lying in the hospital bed, I’m surprised to find Pete sitting up, color in his face, his hair combed, smiling when we enter the room. Priscilla tells him she’s glad he’s okay and asks if there’s anything she can bring before letting me know she’ll be in the hospital cafeteria getting lunch and to join her when I’m done.

  The nurse comes in to check Pete’s vitals then leaves the roo
m, closing the door behind her. That leaves me and Pete. Alone. Looking at each other. Neither of us knowing what to say or do.

  I take a cautious step toward him. He reaches out to me, and some magnetic force I can’t control pushes me into his arms. I love this man so much it hurts—even when he acts out. In fact, sometimes I think I love him more. Mama used to tell me I was a sucker for a sick bird. I think she’s right.

  “Oh, Baby, I’m so sorry about the reunion,” he whispers into my hair. “I ruined your big night.”

  He did, but I don’t care right now. All that matters is that he’s safe, and we’re together.

  “You know I love you, right?”

  I nod as I fight back the tears stingin’ my eyeballs. My head is starting to throb again.

  “They want me to hang around here another day.” He tilts his head forward. “Is that all right with you?”

  “Yes, of course it is, Pete. I want you to get well.”

  “You know I have a disease.”

  Again, I nod. “We’ll get through this together. I’ve been thinkin’ about getting a part-time job.”

  “I don’t want you to do that,” he says quickly. “You have enough to do with the kids and the house. How will you find time for a job?”

  With a shrug, pretending it’s no big deal, I reply, “The mothers’ morning out at the church needs workers, and I can bring little Jack along with me.”

  Pete looks up at the ceiling, blinks a few times, and turns to face me, his eyes all watery like he’s about to cry. “If you really want to do that, I’ll support you.”

  I know life isn’t going to be easy, but knowing my man is okay and willing to work on his problem, I can handle anything. He scooches over to the edge of the bed and pats the sheet beside him. “Come lie down with me, Laura. I missed having you next to me last night.”

  37

  Priscilla

  I sleep late, and when I wake up—to the smell of bacon and coffee—mother is sitting at the table waiting for me.

  “So how many people commented on your straight teeth?”

  Dad joined her at the table, his plate loaded with bacon and eggs. “Don’t do that to her now, Suz—”

  “I just wondered the obvious,” Mother said.

  As much as I hated to admit it, Mother was right about there not being that much difference between the before me and the after me. “Just one.”

  “Anyone who matters?” she asks.

  “Didi Holcomb.”

  “Oh.” A satisfied grin crossed her lips. “So what time does late service start? Your father and I would like to go with you this morning—that is, if you don’t mind.”

  “Of course I don’t mind.” I’m actually thrilled.

  Mother runs her hand across the back of her neck, and I smile. She starts to scowl at me, but then she stops and smiles back. “You sure did take a lot off. It’s hard to get used to feeling my bare neck.”

  “I know what you mean.” I point to my teeth. “I keep forgetting I don’t have braces.”

  She shrugs. “I supposed there are some similarities.”

  “Your mother looks like the girl I married,” Dad says with pride as he gazes at her. “She couldn’t stop looking at herself in the mirror last night.”

  Mother’s cheeks turn pink, and she casts a sharp look in his direction, but then coyly glances away. “I have to admit, I like it.”

  Nothing could make me happier than these words. “I like it too. It brings out your cheekbones and makes you look much younger.”

  She opens her mouth but closes it just as quickly. I glance over at Dad, and he’s still staring at her. Is it possible that all it took to start repairing their marriage was a haircut and color? Not likely, but at least it has them looking at each other again.

  After church, several of Mother’s friends come up and tell her how great she looks. One of the younger professors whose name I don’t know stops and chats with her. I overhear her say, “You are so lucky to have such a talented hairdresser in the family.”

  I swallow hard with pride, but I expect Mother to make one of her comments about how insignificant looks are.

  Then Mother replies, “Yes, I am very fortunate.” Now I think I might faint.

  Dad places his arm around my shoulders. “Where would you like to go to lunch?”

  I hug him back. “Why don’t you all go on ahead? I’m going to check on Laura.”

  Laura is home now, waiting for her children, happier than I’ve seen her since I arrived for the reunion. Although I don’t see us ever being the best of friends, I think we have the foundation for mutual respect and concern.

  Mother and Dad are surprised that I’m hanging around Piney Point longer than I’d originally planned. “I thought you had to be back at work,” Mom said when I told her. I explain that I can conduct most of my work from almost anywhere, since I rarely take appointments in the Jackson salon. I don’t want to say I’m hoping to get a call from Maurice.

  But I’m starting to get concerned that maybe Maurice has lost my number since it’s already late afternoon, and he still hasn’t called. He mentioned going out tonight, and if doesn’t call soon, that isn’t going to happen.

  I’ve just about given up when my cell phone rings. “Hey, gorgeous. How’s the prettiest girl in all of Piney Point?”

  Even though I’m not delusional enough to think he means it, I get all weak inside over the sound of his voice. “Hi, Maurice.”

  “Are you ready to step out?”

  I glance up at the clock in my room. “When?”

  “I can be there in half an hour.”

  That doesn’t exactly give me much time, but if it means having a date with the man I’ve been dreaming about for half my life, I can do it. “Sure, I can be ready. Where are we going?”

  “I was thinking a movie in Hattiesburg.”

  My dream date with Maurice definitely doesn’t include sitting in a theater staring up at a screen, but again, I’ll go almost anywhere with him. “Sounds good. Do you know where I am?”

  “I know where your parents live. You’re still there, right?”

  After I get off the phone, I hurry to change clothes, brush my teeth, freshen my makeup, and do my hair. Mother is sitting in her favorite chair reading when I walk into the living room.

  She glances up and removes her bifocals. “Going somewhere?”

  “I thought I told you Maurice wanted to go somewhere tonight.”

  “Oh, I thought you were still waiting to hear back from him. I didn’t realize you had definite plans.”

  I skirt the issue of the late notice because I know she would never approve.

  The doorbell rings, so I grab my purse and head for the door, saying, “Don’t wait up,” on my way out.

  “My my my,” Maurice says. “Why the rush? I could have come inside and said hey to your mama.”

  “That’s okay,” I tell him. “Nice car.”

  He grins at me. “That’s one of the perks of owning a successful business and being good buddies with a used-car dealer. I always have the coolest wheels.”

  As soon as we’re settled in his car and on our way to Hattiesburg, he starts talking about his tractor dealership. I never realized how important his business is to him. Every once in a while, I start to say something, but he quickly jumps back to his work. Finally, I stop trying so I can listen to what he’s obviously eager to tell me. If this had been anyone but Maurice, I’d be annoyed by all this talk that doesn’t interest me in the least. However, since we’re in the early phase of what I hope is a long relationship, I accept the fact that we both have quite a bit to catch up on.

  After talking for what seems like forever about the dealership, he brings up one of the championship games, when he scored the winning touchdown. “Remember, we were down by four points, and we only had seconds left in the game?” he asks.

  I don’t remember the specifics the way he does, but I’m sure that’s because it never mattered as much to me as i
t obviously does to him. “I didn’t realize we only had seconds left.”

  “Yeah,” he reaffirms as he pulls up to a light and stops. He lifts his arm as though he were about to catch a football. “When I saw that ball flying through the air, all I could think about was how the entire season was in my hands. I had to catch the ball and take it to the goal. The entire game was in my hands.”

  “I bet the pressure was intense,” I say.

  “It was.” He turns and gives me one of those grins that makes my insides melt. “But I came through. Some folks say I single-handedly won the state championship.”

  “Do you play any sports now?” I ask.

  “Nah. That’s all in my past. I spend most of my time hangin’ out with friends, watching professional sports on TV, and . . .” He winks at me before taking off when the light turns green. “Taking pretty girls to the movies.”

  I let out a self-conscious laugh. A few years ago, I could only dream about a moment like this—with Maurice behind the wheel and me on a date with him. I never thought this would actually happen.

  He tells me a few more stories about how he scored touchdowns that made the difference between a good football team and a championship trophy that still rests in a place of honor at the gym. Now that I think about it, I remember him walking past the enclosed trophy shelf a few times last night.

  We arrive at the theater, and he tells me that we’re going to see an action flick—one I never cared about seeing. If he’d asked me, I would have told him. But I have a date with my teenage crush, so I don’t really care what we do, as long as we’re together.

  After the movie, he doesn’t ask what I want to do or where I’d like to go. He just drives to Olson’s Drive-In. All the athletes and cheerleaders used to come here after games. They probably still do. Olson’s has enclosed the big patio area now, but that’s the only difference. Maurice leads me there after picking up some food from the counter. He never asked me what I wanted, but again, that’s okay. He got one of practically everything, so I’m sure I’ll find something I like.