Now this.
She led her customer to a dryer to set the highlights. Then she signaled the other stylists that she was going next door. These days, it had become almost a routine. The noise would begin, everyone in the salon would jump half out of their skins, and then Patsy would head over to Rods-n-Ends to give Pete Roberts a piece of her mind. By the time she got back to work, things usually had quieted down. Until the next incident.
As she hurried along the sidewalk, Patsy noted the nearly completed flower boxes that Pete had brought over the other day. At the time, she had been delighted. He told her he was going to line them with a special black fabric that would keep the dirt in but let the water drain out. Then he planned to fill them with his specially blended soil mixture. And finally, he would plant the flowers. He had asked Patsy if she would like to accompany him to a couple of nurseries the following Sunday afternoon, and she said she would enjoy an outing like that.
Not anymore. She rolled up her sleeves, pushed open the tackle shop’s door, and stared at a pile of lumber on the floor. Wearing a pair of faded overalls, Pete stood high on a ladder as he attempted to set a stud in place against the wall. He had a mouthful of long screws. Hammers and drills hung from loops on his tool belt, and sweat ran down his temples into his beard.
“Pete Roberts!” Patsy called to him. “What on earth are you up to now?”
Pete glanced at her, then spat the screws into his hand. “Oh, hey, Patsy. I’m building you and me a soundproof wall. I got the instructions from a guy at the home-improvement warehouse over in Osage Beach. He said once this wall is up, you won’t hardly hear a thing coming from my side.”
She didn’t know whether to be angry or grateful. “Are you aware that my drywall is cracking?” she asked. “Right in the corner.”
“No kidding? I hoped I could get this frame up without having to touch your wall.” He scratched his beard for a moment. “Well, if you can hold on till I get things done over here, then I’ll come next door and fix your place.”
“The wall is cracking, Pete. That’s not just a simple patch, you know.”
“Hey, you’re blonder than you were at lunch the other day.” Pete began climbing down the ladder. He tugged a blue bandana from his pocket and rubbed it over his damp face. Then he stuffed it back into his pocket. “It’s hot enough to fry bacon up there near the ceiling. Feels like summer. I think I liked that ashy color better, by the way. Looked more natural on you. Blonde is good, but it can tend to make a woman a little brassy, if you know what I mean. ’Specially if she gets to curling and spraying it till it’s so stiff it would crack like an egg if you touched it.”
“Yeah, well, you don’t sweat much for a fat man—” Patsy caught herself and threw up her arms. “Truce, Pete. I’m glad you’re soundproofing the wall. But are you sure you got good advice at the home-improvement store? It’s like an earthquake next door. My pictures are hanging all whoppy-jawed, and that crack has me worried.”
“Is it running straight up and down or side to side?”
“It’s vertical—right next to the corner.”
“That means it’s the tape the builders used on the Sheetrock seam. No problem. I can glue that back down, spackle it, and give it a little paint touch-up. Nobody’ll know the difference. Hey, how do you like the idea of yellow for those flower boxes? I’m talking bright yellow, like a sunflower.”
“It would attract attention.” “That’s the idea. We need to get more people coming to the mall at Tranquility. Did you notice that the For Rent sign is gone from the window on that space next to yours? I have a bad feeling we’re going to get stuck with the video store nobody wants.”
“Didn’t you give the landlord all those petitions people signed?”
“I did, but he threw them in the trash can while I was standing there talking to him. Said they weren’t legal, and he didn’t much care what the community thought. Did a lot of swearing and cussing at me too. Threatened to shut down Rods-n-Ends and throw me out on my ear, but I don’t believe a word of it. He’s just blowing smoke. This place needs all the renters it can get, and I pay my bills on time.”
He let out a deep breath. “If you ask me, Patsy, this is war. Only I don’t have a clue how to fight it. We have no weapons and no soldiers, and our battle plan just went into the Dumpster.”
“Well, rats,” Patsy said, hands on her hips. “That makes me madder than you putting cracks in my walls.”
“So you’re not upset about that anymore?”
“Looks like I’m stuck with you, Pete—unless the landlord figures out some way to run you off.”
“He won’t. After he bellyached over the petitions for a while, I asked permission to put in the flower boxes and build the soundproof wall, and he said okay.”
“Then I guess I can keep on putting up with you.” Patsy shook her head and started for the door. “You know, you’d be a lot less sweaty if you shaved off that beard and got a haircut.”
“I think I look sort of handsome, myself,” Pete replied.
“If you can call a sheepdog handsome.”
Leaving him chuckling, Patsy set out for Just As I Am once again. It seemed like she never made much headway with Pete, but maybe this new wall would help. In the meantime, she was going to have to listen to him screwing in the studs, stapling down the insulation, and then hanging more Sheetrock. The whole situation was enough to make her wonder: Why me, Lord?
Brenda Hansen had just sat down at a table with Ashley Hanes, Kim Finley, and Esther Moore when the pounding started up again next door. Discouraged by persistent cold spring rain that had put her gardening on hold, Brenda had decided to drive to Tranquility this Friday afternoon and have a cup of tea at Just As I Am. She hadn’t bargained on Pete Roberts causing another ruckus.
“I swear that man is going to drive poor Patsy clean out of her wits,” Esther predicted, leaning across the table toward the other three women. “The minute Pete starts tinkering with an engine, Patsy works up a head of steam, marches over to Rods-n-Ends, and reads him the riot act. I never knew such animosity since the Hatfields and McCoys.”
“Maybe it’s not what you think, Mrs. Moore.” Ashley laid her hands on the table, displaying her new French manicure and diamond engagement ring. “One of my girlfriends is a waitress at Aunt Mamie’s Good Food, and she said she saw Patsy Pringle having Easter lunch there with a man.”
“A man!” Esther sat up straight.
“It could have been anyone,” Kim Finley said. “Patsy has lots of male clients. She’s got plenty of friends who might go out to lunch with her.”
Kim had told the group of women she was waiting for the school bus to drop kids off in front of the Tranquility strip mall. That morning she had promised to buy her twins ice-cream sandwiches at Pete’s and then walk by the lake with them. The weather had put an end to that plan. Now, she told the ladies, she would have to drive Luke and Lydia home in the pouring rain and find something to keep them busy while she fixed supper.
“My friend said the man with Patsy was a big burly guy with a beard,” Ashley spoke up. “I think it was Pete Roberts who took her to Easter lunch. I’ll bet they have something going on, and they just don’t want people to know.”
“Well, if they’re lovebirds, how come she went running out of here the minute he started pounding just now?” Esther asked.
“Maybe it’s just a good excuse to see him,” Brenda offered. “Could be his ruckuses have become kind of like a signal between them.”
Kim chuckled. “I remember Derek used to come over to the dentist’s office in Osage Beach to get his teeth cleaned or check up on a possible cavity about every three or four days,” she said. “I thought the poor man must have the worst teeth of anyone in the entire Water Patrol. It turned out he had a bad case of lovesickness. I never would have figured it out if the dentist hadn’t told me point-blank that Derek’s teeth were perfect.”
“That sounds like Brad stopping by my parents’ restaurant to ge
t an ice-cream cone every day after school,” Ashley said. “I was working there, of course. I always served him, and we would talk a little bit, but Brad was so popular and three grades ahead of me that I never gave it much thought. I couldn’t believe he was still wanting his regular chocolate cone even in December. Finally he got up the guts to ask me out, and that was the end of his ice-cream habit.”
“People will do about anything if they’re in love,” Esther agreed. “I tried out for the cheerleading squad just so I could meet Charlie Moore, the best-looking boy in school. He was on the football team, you know. Well, I was the smallest of all the cheerleaders, so of course I got thrown around the most—picked up, twirled, flipped through the air. I’m telling you, no gal ever went through as much as I did trying to get the attention of a boy. But it worked. I got my Charlie, bless his pea-pickin’ heart. I could just about choke that man sometimes, but I wouldn’t trade him for a million dollars.”
As the women chatted, Brenda pursed her lips, recalling how often during the past week she had fought herself to keep from picking up the phone and dialing A-1 Remodeling. With Justin in Texas, Jessica at Table Rock Lake, and Steve selling real estate as usual, Brenda knew she had a good excuse to call Nick back to work. Every day she felt exactly as she had before Nick and his paint-splattered blue jeans stepped into her life. Alone. With a dial of his number, she could have him in the basement again—installing the potting sink and laying the vinyl.
But then what? Soon he would go off to work on his next project, and she would be stuck sewing sofa pillows for a husband who would never even notice them. Lately, every time Brenda thought of Steve, she recalled Ashley Hanes’s casual statement about his country club dinners. Sometimes with women. Single women. La-di-da women with matching shoes and purses…and French perfume.
How could it possibly be fair for a man to expect his wife to sit at home waiting for him while he entertained other women at expensive dinners? What if Steve was having an affair? Even an emotional attraction to someone would mean a deep betrayal of their marriage vows.
But wasn’t that what Brenda was feeling for Nick LeClair? Didn’t she think about the man day and night, wondering what he was doing, remembering funny things he had said? All the details Ashley had given about Nick’s wife and their separation had added more kindling to the fire inside Brenda’s heart. She could hardly wait until Monday morning, when Nick’s pickup would pull into the driveway and he would knock on her front door.
“Shh, here she comes,” Esther said, elbowing Brenda. She winked at Ashley. “Maybe we can get something out of her.”
“Well, I just want you ladies to know that our troubles are almost over,” Patsy announced as she approached their table in the tearoom. “That awful pounding you hear is Pete Roberts building us a soundproof wall. It’ll take him a few days, but he’s got all the supplies and the directions. He’s putting up the framework right now. Before long, we’ll have peace and quiet again.”
“You won’t know what to do with yourself,” Esther quipped. “You’ve been getting so much exercise running over there all the time.”
A slight pink stain crept across Patsy’s cheeks. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll be glad to have things back to normal. The salon was going along so smoothly until Pete moved in.”
“Sometimes change can be good for a woman,” Kim spoke up. “We get so used to our routines. I think it’s been kind of interesting around here lately with Rods-n-Ends next door. Derek is thrilled to have the gas station open again. He says he won’t buy his minnows anywhere else. I noticed Pete has built you a nice flower box.”
Kim rarely offered her opinion, and Brenda had to smile at the slight teasing note to her voice.
“He’s built one for every store in the mall,” Patsy clarified. “Planning to paint them bright yellow to draw attention, so we can get more business. But if you ladies are looking for some change around Tranquility, I’m afraid we’re about to get it. The bad kind. Pete tells me the mall’s landlord threw our petitions in the trash.”
“He did not!” Esther exclaimed. “Why, that just burns me up!”
“Oh no.” Kim’s shoulders sank. “I can’t let Lydia and Luke get off the bus in front of a store like that. What if they see something in the window?”
“You can bet they will,” Ashley said. “Those video people are going to be advertising their stuff just like everyone else here at the lake. The swimming-suit people, the tattoo people, the T-shirt people—folks would put their products right out on the street if the county would let them. My dad bought a great big plastic ice-cream cone and a hot dog that looked so real you could almost eat it. He put them in the window of the restaurant so they could get attention from all the people walking up and down the strip in Lake Ozark.”
“But there ought to be something decent people can do about a trashy video shop,” Esther said. “We shouldn’t have to put up with indecency.”
“And what about getting places we do want?” Ashley asked. “We need another restaurant. That way Brad could meet me for an early supper, and he wouldn’t spend so much time at the Lake Lounge.” “You need to get that husband of yours out of the bar,” Esther said firmly. “You keep moaning about it, honey, but that’s not getting you anywhere.”
“Well, what am I supposed to do? How do you get a man to spend more time at home?”
“Give him a project! That’s what I used to do with Charlie. I told him I wanted a porch swing to rock my babies on, and we were too poor to buy one. So he came home every day after driving his mail route and worked on that swing.”
“You can’t give your husband a project if he can afford to buy everything you could want,” Brenda said in a low voice. “Especially if most of his work is done in the afternoons and evenings.”
The women stared at her in silence for a moment, and Brenda felt sure she had said too much. She gave her tea a stir and tried to figure out how to leave without making it look like she was running away. What if these ladies knew what Ashley had said so openly the other day? What if everyone thought Steve was staying out every night because he was involved with another woman? Brenda felt foolish and vulnerable suddenly, and she couldn’t think of any way to rectify what she had let slip.
And then sweet, quiet Kim spoke. “We should help each other with things like Brenda is talking about,” she said firmly. “We all live close together in Deepwater Cove, and we see each other nearly every day. We don’t want our children exposed to this video store. We do want our husbands to come home to us in the evenings. We want good marriages and happy homes and strong friendships. So…why don’t we just…just help each other?”
“How?” Ashley asked. “I’m not even twenty years old yet. I don’t know how to do anything but wait on tables and bead necklaces. I sure don’t have any advice for you guys.”
“Could you invite Brenda and Steve to your house for dinner some night when you and Brad are both off work?”
“I guess so. Brad says I make really awesome fried chicken.”
“And maybe you and Brad could help Brenda with one of her garden projects,” Kim went on. “If we met here at Patsy’s shop now and then, we could put our heads together and work out our problems.”
“Like a ladies’ society!” Esther crowed. “That’s the best idea I’ve heard in ages. We’ll call it The Ladies’ Club, and we’ll get together on…Tuesdays.”
“The dentist’s office closes early on Wednesdays and Fridays,” Kim said. “I try to meet the school bus at four when it stops at the mall.”
“Wednesdays, then.” Esther looked around at the others. “What do you say, Patsy? May we have our club meetings here on Wednesdays?”
“Be my guests,” Patsy said. “Only I want to be a member too.”
“That’s okay with me, but let’s call it something besides The Ladies’ Club,” Ashley said. “It sounds…old. Like we’re a bunch of old folks.”
“I am old,” Esther said. “Suits me just fine.�
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“How about the Tea Ladies’ Club?” Kim offered. “We’ll call ourselves the TLC, because that’s what we’re here for—lots of tender loving care.”
“Well, now, isn’t that just about the cleverest thing you ever heard?” Esther announced to the group. “We are the founding members of the TLC—Patsy Pringle, Ashley Hanes, Kim Finley, Brenda Hansen, and me, Esther Moore. Five of us. We’ll meet right here next Wednesday afternoon at three o’clock to discuss our progress and help each other figure out how to handle problems. In the meantime, Ashley, you invite the Hansens over for fried chicken. Brenda, you give Brad a job in your yard building a wishing well or some such thing so he’ll stay out of the bar. And Kim and I will put our heads together on what to do about that blasted video store.”
Brenda felt silly and excited all at the same time. She hadn’t been in a club since elementary school when she and a group of girlfriends had formed a secret We Hate Boys club. That had lasted about a week until one of the members decided she liked Timmy, who lived down at the end of the cul-de-sac. The group disbanded. In high school, Brenda had belonged to the school choir and the Spanish club, but those weren’t social organizations. The whole idea of the TLC seemed childish—and at the same time fun.
Despite her dark mood and troubled heart, Brenda couldn’t help but enjoy the company of Ashley, Kim, and Esther. Of course, Patsy always lifted Brenda’s spirits, and she kept the salon a quiet, wholesome place where it was hard to grumble or tell nasty stories about other people. Regular tea meetings might actually be sort of enjoyable. Even helpful.
Was it possible that Ashley really would invite Brenda and Steve over for friend chicken? They were old enough to be her parents. And should Brenda really ask Brad Hanes for help in her garden? She needed a bridge built over the drainage ditch at the edge of the yard, but she had been toying with asking Nick LeClair to take on the job.
It Happens Every Spring Page 15