The Yellow Rose Beauty Shop (Cadillac, Texas #3)(22)

Charlotte nodded. “You can fill Piper in on the news.”

Agnes leaned against the fender of Piper’s car. “The war has taken a new turn. On the last Saturday night in July there’s going to be a ball in Cadillac. All the details have not been ironed out, but it’s going to be something like a debutante ball for everyone, but mainly for the women who aren’t married and who should be. Stella is the prime target, because it’s been officially named the Yellow Rose Barbecue Ball but any woman that ain’t married is fair game. Heather says that this is a giant leap for her new marriage ministry.” Agnes lowered her voice to a whisper. “And on the other side of the gossip fence I heard that Charlotte was seen buying pink yarn at Walmart and that Stella is far enough along now that she knows it’s a girl.”

“Shit! How many stories are floating around?” Stella asked.

“A bunch, but that’s the two I like best, and before you ask, I’m going to the ball. I wouldn’t miss it for the whole world. It’ll be the perfect time to show the whole damn bunch of them that I’m still the boss of Cadillac,” Agnes said.

“I’m damn sure not going,” Piper said.

“I didn’t give them permission to use my beauty shop name in their idea,” Stella said.

“They say it’s for ‘The Yellow Rose of Texas,’ that song that Roy Rogers and Johnny Cash and half a dozen other singers have sung,” Agnes said. “But we know it’s just Heather slapping you in the face so we have to retaliate. They think they’re so damn smart. Well, we’ll mow them under like dead grass before the summer is over.”

Piper groaned. “I’m not being a part of any such thing. I’ve got enough troubles of my own right now.”

“Bullshit,” Agnes said. “They’ve insulted your friend and you will be a part of it so suck it up, Piper. Put on your armor and get out your army tanks. We’re going to war. Praise God! I thought I was going to die of pure damn old boredom.”

“Barbecue ball? That sounds like it comes right of Duck Dynasty.” Charlotte laughed. “And I really was buying pink yarn. I’m ready to put the border on Cathy’s baby blanket and make the matching booties and sweater.”

Agnes shrugged. “I figured that much out, but you know how people do love to talk. My snitch says we’ll get any more news soon as it comes out so we can plan our strategy, but Heather has talked her aunt, who is Violet if y’all will remember, into letting them use her big old barn out on the Prescott place for the ball. They ain’t growed cattle out there for years, so I reckon it’s full of spiders and snakes. I just wonder if Heather is going to pull off her high heels and help clean it up.”

“Now, that’s a funny picture in my head,” Stella said.

“It is, ain’t it? Only thing funnier is puttin’ Violet in it with her. Now let’s go eat fish. Did you make them beans by your mama’s recipe, Piper? I’m going to eat half of that pot full and be damned to the gas it will produce,” Agnes said.

“How in the hell do a ball and barbecue get mixed up together?” Stella asked Charlotte.

“Y’all walk slow so I can hear what you are sayin’,” Agnes said.

“I could see barbecue and a barn dance, but a ball? A ball means a sit-down dinner with waiters that bring chicken cordon bleu or maybe prime rib, not barbecue,” Piper answered. “Barbecue means beer, paper plates, and country music.”

“Do we all have to wear white dresses and long white gloves?” Charlotte asked.

“Not me. If I go, I’m wearing a camouflage gown with a hot pink sash,” Stella said. “Mama says that redheads can’t wear red or hot pink, so I’ll fix it up real good.”

“Nancy would probably make that dress for you if you just asked her to,” Piper said.

Stella shot a dirty look her way.

Agnes stopped in her tracks when her rooster-crowing phone sounded off in the bib pocket of her overalls. “Y’all hold up.”

She listened awhile and then said thank you. “Now you can walk again, but keep it slow. I ain’t no young chicken no more. That was my snitch. And for the record, girls, you are all three going to the ball. Piper and Charlotte are going to support you, Stella, because they are your best friends and that’s what friends do. I’ll be there, too, and we’ll show them that they’ve failed in their mission. If I can go to Violet’s place, then y’all will go. No arguments.”

“What else did your snitch say?” Piper asked.

“Heather is bringing in air conditioners to cool the place down so the ladies won’t get too hot and they’re going to start designing the interior next week. They say it’s going to be something like one of those renaissance fair things down in Dallas, only instead of turkey legs, they’ll be serving barbecue. I’m not sure if y’all are going to cook it or if y’all are just supposed to eat it in your fancy dresses. Maybe we ought to borrow them big bibs they use at the nursing home. Barbecue can get messy.”

“God help us!” Piper set down the box she’d brought from her car.

“Who is God helping, if I may ask?” Jed raised an eyebrow.

“He’s going to help all of us.” Tanner nodded his head seriously. “God does that when people pray in church, don’t he, Preacher Jed?”