I rush through my chores, checking on supper—fatback and corn bread with beans and corn on the cob, Maggie’s favorites. I get lost in daydreams of how different up-dos might look with my veil while Maggie sits in her reclining chair watching “Jeopardy” behind a card table where she likes to eat her dinner. I smile at her, hoping she’ll smile back, and I’ll see where Austin’s dimples came from. On cue, she does.
Present Day
“Girl! We’re going to fix you right up. You’re gunna be the most beautiful bride Endings’ ever seen!”
I laugh, hoping the pink in my cheeks doesn’t give my embarrassment away. “Thanks,” I mumble, unsure of what else to say but confident Pam knows what she’s doing. I wish I had thought to ask Austin how he prefers my hair, up or down. But, knowing Austin, he won’t care either way.
Pam pushes a tattered pile of magazines from her days in beauty school at me. “Here, sit down. Start looking through these. I need to get a feel for what you like, doll. Iced coffee or tea?”
I sit at an oval table in Pam’s tiny kitchen while she heads to the refrigerator. Scanning page upon page of bridal hair options, I wish I’d thought to bring Julie, Sonya, Maggie, anyone with me. “Wow. I had no idea there were so many choices. I have no idea where to start.”
“Oh, you’ll be fine, darlin. Have faith. We’ll come up with something great,” Pam assures me, over the grinding of her ice maker. “So, tell me everything! What’s been going on? How’s Maggie? I feel so out of the loop with the salon and everything. Ya’ll don’t talk to me as much, since the job. Tell me everything. I reckon I’ve missed a lot.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard you’ve been super busy. How’s that going?”
Pam takes my bait and immediately jumps into stories about her more interesting regular clients—from botched weaves to bad color jobs and women who “expect miracles every single time they walk in the building.” “You can’t fix everything,” she says. “Wait! Stop! Look at that one! That one would complement your facial structure. Loose curls, a little messy. Almost bohemian. Did you bring your veil?”
“I haven’t picked it up yet. Money. I’ll have it next week. And, yeah, I like it. Could we add flowers too?”
“What’s your color scheme again?”
“Purple and ivory. I’m using calla lilies, because, well, the obvious.”
“Oh! That will be pretty. I’m so glad you decided to do it here. This will be such a great time. Is everyone invited?”
“All the regulars. This place is home.”
Pam smiles, looking around her kitchen. “Yes, it sure is. And you know this place. People love a good excuse for a party!”
I laugh. Pam and I may not always agree on everything, but there’s no arguing with her that Happy Endings is known for its massive get-togethers and ability to put conflict aside for a good time. “I’ve got everyone involved and helping. I don’t know what I’d do without all the help. Julie is doing the favors, the guys are working on some sort of staging by the dock. They will deal with tents the morning of the wedding and most of the set up. A favor to Austin, I guess. I’m certainly not saying no.”
“What about Callie? Is she in the wedding?”
I shrug. “No. I wanted to keep it small. I’m just having Julie and my sister-in-law, Sonya.”
“What about Stixx?”
I raise my eyebrows and shake my head.
“Kiki?”
“Yeah. Sure, she can be the entertainment for Austin’s bachelor party!”
“Oh, you’re terrible!”
“Please, you opened me right up for that.”
“Yes. I certainly did! Okay, let’s get to work! We need a game plan. …But, can you imagine it? Kiki dancing on a pole at the reception?”
“Um. No. And Austin? He’d die. He’s way too shy. He isn’t even actually having a bachelor’s party. No interest at all.”
“Ya caught yourself a great guy, love.”
Pam twists and pulls my hair it into every size swirl and curl imaginable. She chatters about her work at the salon, her lunch with a “just-a-friend-don’t-tell Bess,” and asks about Maggie.
“She’s good. She doesn’t get out as much lately. It’s kind of sad. I reckon she misses Austin. I don’t know, something. I keep telling her we need to get a dog to keep her company. Austin and I aren’t going to be there forever.” Not if he has his way, anyway.
“Well, it’s hard. Especially for a woman like that. Oh, Maggie: She was a sassy one. I remember the time she and Francine ran off with the motor boat. The guys needed it for the derby but your grandmother and Maggie insisted they would not get it back until that old RV on Maggie’s lot was gone. She was sick of looking at it. Those two. Stayed out there two whole days! Stubborn mules, they were,” Pam, says, reaching for a bottle of hairspray. “Loose? Like this?”
I nod, trying to picture either Maggie or Grandma young. The last time I saw them together was the summer before Austin decided—for sure—to enlist in the guard. Maggie was a mess, convinced he’d somehow wind up in Afghanistan, no matter how many times he reassured her. By then, Pappy was already gone and Austin was on his own in convincing Maggie the guard would help with mechanic school.
Maggie held her ground and made him wait until he was eighteen to sign his letter of commitment. She simply wasn’t going to have any part in “losing another of my kids.” She’d already lost her son and daughter-in-law. “Enough was enough,” she’d said.
“Yes. I’m thinking bohemian. I want this to look as natural as possible without being a mess.”
“Shabby chic.”
“Yeah. That.”
“I gotcha, girl.”
Pam fiddles with a curl, decides against it, and pulls out a straightener. It sizzles on my gelled hair, tossing a coconut smell into the air.
“I feel bad for her.”
“Who? Maggie?”
“Yeah.”
“I can’t imagine. She’s had it rough. Losing her kid, then Austin moving. Losing Francine, too. She and your grandma were awful close…”
I roll my eyes, sure that Pam’s referring to rumors from Bess that Grandma and Maggie had a “thing” at one time. No one seems to remember that, for all their bickering, my grandparents had true love. Grandma would never have left him, even for her best friend.
“It’s not just that. I mean, she’s just been so sick. A heart attack. Two or three strokes. I just worry about her. I’m hoping she’ll be feeling better than usual by the wedding. I mean, she seems okay, but she doesn’t talk all that much.”
“Maggie is a listener.”
“True.”
“I reckon that’s why she’s always hated Bess.”
“Oh, I think there are other reasons, too.” Telling everyone she and Grandma were lovers, selling Grandma’s stuff before Grandma was even in the ground. Oh, a million other reasons…I wonder how many Pam knows…
Pam laughs, reaching for a hand mirror. “What do you think of this?”