by Debby Mayne
I go through my stack of messages and return the most urgent calls. Then I get my appointment book, a map, and some blank paper to work on my business plan. I’ve wanted to do this for a while, and now the timing is perfect.
All my life, I’ve been a planner. I come by it honestly, since both Mother and Dad are planners. And we’ve clashed because they don’t stop at planning their own lives. They have always had the notion that I’d follow in their footsteps, all the way to the ivory towers of academia. But the towers I have my sights set on are more teal and pink with the bold letters “Cut ’n Curl” all lit up, inviting women in to be made over and come out looking better than they ever dreamed.
I sigh and sip tea as I ponder how easily I would have given up my dream for someone who has never cared about me and never will. How could a woman as smart as I’m supposed to be not see what’s always been obvious to everyone else? Even Tim saw it.
Here I am, almost twenty-nine years old, and a successful businesswoman with a plan. When my classmates voted me “Most Likely to Succeed,” I’m sure a chain of hair salons wasn’t what they had in mind. But what does it matter, really, what method I choose to succeed, as long as it’s productive and pleasing to God?
When the phone rings, the caller ID shows my office number. It’s Mandy. I can hear the lilt in her voice, letting me know she’s still giddy from her promotion. “I hope I’m not bothering you, but Becca and I were talking . . .” She pauses, then blurts, “There’s this really cool cappuccino machine at Target, and it’s not all that expensive, considering how much money we’ll save everyday, and—”
“Go ahead and get it, Mandy. Use the petty cash.”
She squeals with delight. “Thank you so much, Priscilla. You are the best boss ever!”
Some people are so easy to please. “While you’re at it, go ahead and buy everything you need to make coffee for a month.”
I jot down a note to pick up some cool-looking personalized mugs for Mandy and Becca. If pink walls, cheap posters, and cappuccino make them happy, I can only imagine what mugs with their names on them will do.
As I get ready for my date with Tim, I give myself a mental lecture about letting go of the past. The Piney Point High School ten-year reunion—and even what my mother thinks about me—is the past. My future promises to be much more interesting, so that’s what I need to focus on.
Tim arrives right on time as always. His gaze travels from my head to my cork-wedge shoes. “You look mighty fine, Priscilla,” he says as he steps into my townhouse. “But you always do.”
I do an exaggerated bow. “Thank you, sir.”
“I have the whole evenin’ planned, starting with an early movie and then a nice lobster dinner.”
“Dinner usually comes first.”
“Yeah, but not tonight. I want to relax and enjoy the . . . well, just enjoy each other’s company.” There’s a twinkle in his eye that makes me a tad nervous.
Most men would go straight for the action flicks, but Tim knows I’m a sappy romantic, so he takes me to a chick flick he knows I’ve been wanting to see. “Are you sure?” I ask.
“I don’t do nothin’ I’m not sure of,” he replies. Now I see something even more intense in his gaze.
I go through half my travel pack of tissues by the end of the movie. He laughs when I stop at the trashcan on the way out. “I’m glad the movie made you cry this time, not some jerk who doesn’t appreciate you.”
“That’s sweet.”
He wiggles his eyebrows, Groucho Marx style. “If you think that’s sweet, just wait until you see what I have planned for dessert.”
“Ooh, sounds dangerous.”
“Your choice of cake, pie, pudding, or ice cream . . . or all of the above.”
I pat my hips. “Very dangerous.”
When we pull into the parking lot of one of my favorite—and extremely expensive—restaurants, I touch his arm. “Tim, you don’t have to take me here.”
“But I want to.”
“Okay.” I start to get out, but he tugs at my arm.
“Stay put. I’ll come around and get you.”
Now I’m very uncomfortable and afraid that Tim and I have very different ideas of how we want tonight to go. I have to come up with a plan—and quick—to make sure he doesn’t say or ask something that will ruin the evening.
Once we’re seated, he leans forward. “Priscilla, tonight is very special for me, and I hope for you. I want us to celebrate . . .”
I take advantage of his pause and lift my water glass. “Yes, I want to celebrate too. I’ve decided it’s time to expand my business, and since you’re like a cross between the brother I never had and a best friend, I’m happy we’re here together tonight. Here’s to our future that holds all kinds of exciting surprises.”
His expression droops as we clink glasses. “Brother? Best friend?” He glances down at his menu. “I was kind of hoping . . . well . . .” He sucks in a breath before looking back at me with a smile, lifting his glass again. “Cheers to a beautiful friendship, and may it continue to grow.”
I take a sip of my water and study him over the rim of my glass, relieved that I’m able to share my dreams with such a wonderful man. Who knows if my feelings for him will grow more romantic, but for now, I need to regroup and recover from what happened with Maurice, and focus on business.
After we finish dessert, Tim pays the bill and stands. “Ready to head out?”
I nod. As we stroll toward his car, he takes my hand. It feels natural and comfortable—the opposite of what I experienced with Maurice. Maybe I’m not meant to be in a romantic relationship, but that’s fine for now. I love the comfort of being with such a good friend who will be there for me, no matter what . . . even when there’s nothing in it for him besides friendship.
All the way home, Tim asks me questions about my plans for business expansion. I know that he’s disappointed and trying to stay on a safe topic, but I’m also relieved that he’s taking things so well. One of these days, he’ll make some fortunate girl the best boyfriend . . . and husband, and I’ll have to take a step back as he gives her the attention she’ll need. I’m sure I’ll be sad, but for now I’ll enjoy our friendship.
When we arrive at my townhouse, he walks me to my door. “Would you like to come in?”
He shakes his head. “Better not tonight.”
I take his hands, squeeze them, and lean over to kiss him on the cheek. “You’re the best, Tim. Thank you for such a wonderful evening . . . and for being so understanding.”
He nods, turns, and waves. “See ya around, Priscilla. Stay safe.”
Discussion Questions
1. In spite of Priscilla’s success at a young age, she still has trouble with the fact that her parents don’t approve of her career. Why do they not approve? Why do you think their approval matters so much to her?
2. How would you describe Priscilla’s relationship with her mother? Have you ever experienced some of the same feelings with either of your own parents? How did you work it out?
3. Why do you think Priscilla’s mother is so adamant about getting a college education?
4. Laura obviously feels “put upon” by everyone, but she continues trying to do everything. Why does she keep volunteering?
5. Do you think that Laura and Pete will be able to keep their marriage together with all the stress his drinking causes? Will he stay sober after what happened at the class reunion? Why or why not?
6. Trudy is obviously still very attractive, but she’s ashamed of how her life is turning out. Do you think her classmates will see her any differently now that she has put on a few pounds and she’s divorced? How?
7. When Trudy meets Marlene, she experiences some self-realization. What lessons could she learn from this new relationship? Could they help or hurt her self-image?
8. Tim is obviously in love with Priscilla, but she only sees him as friendship material. Do you think this can change? What do you think Tim sees in Priscilla
that keeps him coming back?
9. Why is Tim willing to help out so much with the class reunion, even though he never went to school in Piney Point and never met any of the people until this visit?
10. Have you ever been to a class reunion? If so, what is the funniest thing that happened? Did you experience anything similar to what was in Pretty Is as Pretty Does?
11. Which of the characters in the book do you relate to the most? Why?
Bonus chapter from book two in
The Class Reunion Series
Bless Her Heart
1
Priscilla Slater
Come One Come All to
Piney Point High School’s
15-year reunion
on June 12 at 7:00 PM
in Piney Point High’s
Cafeteria.
Attire: Business Casual
RSVP: Laura Moss 601-555-1515 or
Celeste Boudreaux 601-555-4854
PS: The preparty will be at Pete and Laura’s house, starting at
4:00 PM.
BYOB—Setups will be provided. Bring a dish to share.
I hold the invitation with one hand while unlocking the door to my Jackson, Mississippi, townhouse with the other. The delicious sounds of silence fill my ears as I close the door behind me and make my way to my bedroom to get ready for my night out with the girls while trying to wrap my mind around the fifteen-year. So they decided to go ahead with it. I warned Laura that we might not have enough people wanting to attend so soon after all the stuff that happened during the last one. I figure by the time the twentieth rolls around, most of us will have forgotten some of it, but the memory is still pretty fresh—at least in my mind it is.
Between Laura’s lack of control and her husband, Pete, winding up in the hospital from alcohol poisoning, I would have thought she’d welcome the extra time. I reread the invitation and notice Celeste’s name and number have been included. At least Laura has the sense to let someone else have a piece of the responsibility this time, but knowing Laura, I question how much control she’s willing to give up.
As much as I want to say I’m tempted not to attend, I can’t truthfully do that. There’s nothing that will make me happier than to offhandedly mention the fact that I’ve expanded my business, and I now own at least one salon in every major Southeastern city. I close my eyes and envision my classmates’ expressions as I explain that my next goal is to grow my business up the East Coast and then I hope to be accepted on the TV Network Shopping channel. They do a bazillion dollars worth of business every year, and I’d love to have a slice of that pie. In fact, I’ve been getting some buying sounds from some of the bigwigs about one of the pieces I designed to help women have the coveted big hair without all the teasing that damages the hair shaft. Apparently the rest of the country has finally acknowledged what Southern women have always known—big hair is hot.
Yeah, I’m totally going to this reunion.
Rather than wait to hear from Mother or Dad about the reunion they’ve probably known about since Laura made the decision when to have it, I grab the phone and punch in their number. “I wondered how long it would take you to call,” Mother says. They must have gotten caller ID since I was there last.
“I just got the invitation in today’s mail.”
She sighs. “You know you’re always welcome to stay here. I’ll have Teresa get your room ready.” After a brief pause, she asks, “How long do you think you’ll be here?” There’s a tightening in her voice that always worries me.
“I haven’t really thought about it.”
“You were here an awful long time for the tenth . . . not that I mind, but you know how busy I am . . . I mean your dad and I are, and . . .” Her voice trails off, but I know what comes after the dot-dot-dot.
“Tell you what, Mother, if I decide to hang around more than a week, I’ll make other arrangements.”
“No, Priscilla, that’s not what I’m saying. It’s just that, well . . .” She clears her throat. “You know you don’t have to limit your stay here to a week. A couple weeks will be just fine.”
At least I know what I’m working with. “Thanks, Mother. I’m sure that’ll be plenty of time to help Laura and Celeste and maybe even work in a few appointments.”
“Oh, that’s another thing. We’re already getting calls from people who want you to make them over. You did such a fabulous job with Celeste five years ago.”
She’s right. I did a wonderful job of taking Celeste from dowdy to desirable, and I hear she’s actually dating now. Yeah, it’s Jimmy, one of the grossest guys I’ve ever known, but at least he’s a step up from nothing.
“You still there, Priscilla?”
“Yes, I was just thinking. Please just tell people to call the salon and book with Sheila. I don’t want you to have to worry about my schedule.”
“When should I tell Teresa to have your room ready?”
I look at my calendar and give Mother a date before we finally hang up. As I get ready for a girls’ birthday night out with my office manager, Mandy, and salon manager, Rosemary, I find myself wondering how Dad managed to talk Mother into hiring someone to help out around the house. My parents have certainly always had the money to have domestic help, but Mother resisted, using the argument that she’d have to clean before the cleaning lady came, so there was no point. She’s always liked to be in control.
“Happy birthday, Mandy,” I say as I lean in for a hug and air kiss. Five years ago when I met this girl, I wasn’t so sure she would work out, but I was desperate for someone to answer the phones, and my options were limited. Later, in order to keep her from walking out, I promoted her from being my assistant to office manager. Something clicked, and I discovered untapped talent that has helped me tremendously in my quest to grow my salon business.
She flicks her hand from the wrist and rolls her eyes. “Don’t remind me. Let’s just party and forget it’s my birthday.”
I laugh. Mandy isn’t even thirty yet, but I play along. “You don’t look a day older than when I first hired you.”
She starts to comment, but Rosemary breezes into the restaurant looking harried as usual. “Sorry, but my client needed extra TLC, and you know how I am.”
“Boy howdy do we ever,” Mandy says. “C’mon, let’s get a seat. I’m starvin’.”
Rosemary billows her top. “It sure is hot out there, and it isn’t even summer yet.”
“That reminds me,” Mandy says. “I better eat a salad, or I won’t be able to wear my bikini when I go to Biloxi with Mama in a couple of weeks.”
“I don’t remember the last time I was able to wear a bikini,” Rosemary says. “In fact, I don’t even own a swimsuit.”
Mandy tilts her head toward Rosemary. “So what do you wear to lay out?”
“Lay out?” Rosemary and I exchange a glance and grin as we follow Mandy to the hostess stand. “Girl, you better quit doin’ that, or you’ll wind up with alligator hide, or worse.”
When I first hired Mandy, she and Rosemary fought over their turf, but over time, they’ve developed an understanding and affection for each other that I never saw coming. I’m relieved I stopped getting phone calls from one or the other of them tattling like a three-year-old. Now when I go out of town, the only thing I have to worry about is Mandy keeping an assistant. From what I understand, she’s quite the taskmaster.
“So how’s, um . . . what’s the new girl’s name?” I ask.
“Clarissa,” Mandy says with a shrug. “She’s okay so far, but time will tell. I don’t know what’s up with some people. Doesn’t anyone have a work ethic anymore?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Rosemary smirking, but I nod my agreement with Mandy. “Let’s hope Clarissa works out.”
She lifts her hand to get the waitress’s attention. “I haven’t eaten since breakfast, so let’s order.”
After we place our order, Rosemary turns to me. “So I hear you’re having another class reunion.”
&n
bsp; I grunt. “Word sure does get around.”
“According to Sheila, the appointment book is already filling up,” Mandy says. “Chester will have his hands full, since he’s the only aesthetician in the salon . . . unless, of course, you do what you did last time and go early.”
After Chester realized how much business I got from facials, he didn’t hesitate to take classes so he can be part of what he calls Hollywood glam. “I think I will go early.”
“Then we need to move the closing date up for that salon in Raleigh,” Mandy reminded me. “I don’t think that’ll be a problem since the current owners are so eager to get out of it.”
Rosemary chuckled. “I have to hand it to ya, Priscilla. You have a knack for sniffin’ out opportunities.”
I smile but keep my mouth shut. My knack has more to do with Tim knowing the heartbeat of practically every privately owned hair salon between Florida and New York. The one in Raleigh came on the market when the couple who owned it decided they couldn’t continue co-owning a business after their divorce.
“I’ve been thinking . . .” Rosemary slowly looks at me then averts her gaze. “Never mind.”
I frown. “Now you have to tell me.”
“It’s nothing.” She nervously glances over her shoulder and turns back to face me. “Promise you won’t be mad?”
“You know I can’t make that kind of promise. What is it?”
“I have a cousin in Apex, one of the little towns near Raleigh. Her husband’s been sick, and well . . .” Her shoulders sag as she contorts her mouth.
“What?”
“How about if I transfer to the new salon in Raleigh?”
Rosemary’s husband passed away a couple of years ago, and she’s been visiting her cousin every chance she gets, so I shouldn’t be surprised. But I am.