The Yellow Rose Beauty Shop (Cadillac, Texas #3)(45)

The first rocket lit up the sky in red, white, and blue. Stomping ceased. Everyone took their seats and watched the sparkling display, one after the other, and Violet was left on the flatbed, pointing a glittering gold fingernail up toward Agnes.

Agnes tucked her megaphone back into her tote bag. “Don’t worry, Nancy, she won’t excommunicate you from the Angels until after the ball or else Everett won’t fix the barbecue.”

Everett patted his wife’s knee. “Damn straight.”

Stella nudged Jed. “You are living dangerously, sitting up here among the Baxter heathens and Agnes Flynn. You might not have a pulpit to preach from come Sunday morning. Violet might work the deacons up into a mood to fire your butt.”

“Whatever happens with this job, darlin’, I’ll trust that it’s God’s will. I survived before he called me to preach. I reckon I can find a job doin’ something else if he wants me to quit preaching. Remember, I’ve still got some acreage and an old mule up around Ravenna. We could always go to raisin’ turnip greens and hogs,” Jed whispered.

“I like turnip greens,” she whispered.

“Did you see that one, Mama? It was your colors. Pink and purple,” Luke shouted in excitement.

“Pretty, wasn’t it?” Piper hugged him. “Thank you for remembering my favorite colors.”

“I always remember. You like pink roses and the purple stuff that looks like feathers. Grandma used to send them to you for your birthday before she went to live with Jesus . . . oh, look at that one, it’s red and green like Christmas.”

Rhett tilted his head toward Stella. “Pink roses, huh?”

She nodded.

Jed nudged her from the other side. “And what’s your favorite?”

“She’s always loved yellow roses. Her favorite ones were right off the bush in our front yard. Her grandpa wanted us to name her Stella Rose because his favorite song was ‘The Yellow Rose of Texas,’?” Everett answered. “That’s why she named her beauty shop what she did. She couldn’t very well name it Amos Moses after her grandpa.”

“So you named her Stella Joy? Why?” Jed asked.

“Joy because I knew when I laid eyes on her that she would be mine and her mama’s joy and Stella because that was my mother’s name.” Everett grinned.

Stella blew him a kiss. “That’s so sweet, Daddy.”

“It’s the damn truth,” he said and went back to watching the fireworks.



Violet had both hands on her hips and not a single one of her three chins had the nerve to move an inch when she met Agnes in the middle of the football field. Stella hurried on past Jed and her father to join Cathy, Marty, and Trixie as they circled around Agnes.

“You are a thorn in my side, Agnes Flynn,” Violet hissed.

“Well, you are a pain in my ass, Violet Prescott.”

Violet’s eyes narrowed into slits. “You aren’t going to goad me into a fight, but if you think you are going to ruin Heather’s ball, you’ve got another think comin’.”

Agnes’s smile was laced with equal amounts of sugar and sarcasm. “I thought I was helping, getting the crowd all worked up for the fireworks show. Y’all all see how she reacts when I try to help and be her friend. Some folks just don’t appreciate any damn thing you do for them. Help her work up the crowd and she swears at me.”

“You knew exactly what you were doing and I did not say a single swear word. You were the one doing the damn cussin’.” Violet clamped her mouth shut and took a deep breath. “You are a bitch, Agnes Flynn,” she hissed when her lips parted. “You can’t leave anything alone, can you? My niece just wants to have a nice event for Cadillac.”

“Your niece is just trying to push her marriage ministry shit on us and we don’t want it,” Agnes said.

“Whoa!” Stella held up a hand. “That’s enough, Violet. Let’s go home, Agnes, before tempers get out of hand.”

“It will be enough when I’m finished talking and I’m not and you, young lady, are the reason for all this crap. If your stupid mama hadn’t put you on the prayer list, none of this would have happened anyway,” Violet said.

“Don’t you call my mama stupid.” Stella raised her voice a notch.

“Don’t you yell at my aunt.” Heather joined the group.

Ethan, Violet’s son, took a step forward and Agnes laid a hand on his shoulder.

“You should take your mama to the doctor first thing in the morning. I read up on old people and dementia just this week. There was an article in the AARP magazine that I get every month. It’s said that the first sign for some folks is that they get fired up and mad about everything, especially if they don’t get their way.” Agnes sighed and raised her shoulders a notch before she went on. “I’ll be glad to let everyone in Cadillac know that you’ve got the beginning signs of it so they won’t get offended at you. I bet all that glue up under that gold fingernail done caused you to get infected with dementia and I hear there ain’t no cure for it.”

“Aunt Violet does not have dementia!” Heather yelled over the buzz of cars starting up engines and people talking all around them.

“Bless her heart, Ethan. It’s too bad they don’t have some little white pills to cure it, but they just don’t. It’s that fingernail. I just know it is. I’ll pray for her. That’s the best any of us can do,” Agnes shouted.