Small Town Rumors(68)

“Ready to move on?” the doctor asked.

She nodded. “Goodbye, Mama,” she said softly as she took two steps to the other table.

When she saw her daddy, so still and lifeless with a huge cut on his chin, she groaned and let the next batch of tears loose.

“His neck snapped when the plane crashed. Death was instantaneous for him, too.”

“See you later, Daddy,” she whispered as she bent and kissed his cold cheek.





Chapter Eighteen

Cricket was dressed and trying to do something with her unruly, almost curly, not quite straight, hair when Jennie Sue rapped on the bedroom door. Wearing a cute little sleeveless black dress that stopped at her knee and a pair of plain leather flats, Jennie Sue looked like she’d just stepped off a fashion runway.

“Need some help with your hair? We’ve got thirty minutes before the Belles arrive, and I’m antsy,” Jennie Sue asked.

“I’d love help, but you’re always so cool and collected. I can’t even begin to imagine you nervous,” Cricket said.

“Those women are going to try to make me join their club. It’s written in the charter that when a mother passes, her daughter steps up to take her place. I’ll get the curling iron from my room and be right back.”

For years Cricket had wondered what it would be like to be in the circle that Jennie Sue ran in. To be invited to slumber parties where they’d all fix one another’s hair and do makeup. Now it was happening, and she wasn’t so sure how she felt about any of it. Maybe it was because she and Jennie Sue were both twenty-eight. All that high school popularity didn’t matter anymore.

“Got it.” Jennie Sue plugged the iron into the wall and laid it on the vanity. “Have a seat in front of the mirror.”

Cricket sat down and sighed at her reflection. She should just pull her hair up into a ponytail. It didn’t matter if she was a wallflower that evening—this wasn’t about her. It was about helping Jennie Sue get through the whole night with a bunch of people that she wasn’t comfortable around. “Why don’t you want to join the Belles? Your mama would want you to carry on her legacy.”

While the curling iron heated up, Jennie Sue ran a brush through Cricket’s hair. “Yes, she would. Just like my grandmother expected Mama to fill her shoes. But I’m just not Belle material. I might have been ten years ago or even six years ago, but not now. I’ve got an idea—you can join the Belles in my place.”

“Not me. Those women intimidate me,” Cricket laughed. “Look at us bein’ good enough friends that you are offerin’ me your place on the Sweetwater Belles.”

“Honey, that probably means that we are what they call frenemies these days. I was teasin’. I would only wish that on my worst enemy.” Jennie Sue laid the brush aside and picked up the curling iron.

“That bad, huh?”

“Worse.” Jennie Sue shivered. “Big bouncy curls or straight?”

“What?”

“Your hair? How do you want it?”

“Curls.” Cricket felt more than a little guilty about Jennie Sue styling her hair. “I should be fixin’ your hair. How do you do it?”

“What? Fix hair or not fall to pieces right now?”

Cricket pointed at her hair.

“I had to learn. Percy didn’t like the way the beauty shop did it, and it had to be perfect—always—not only when we went out or had an event. He had his good points, but somehow they got lost in his controlling nature.” Jennie Sue tamed Cricket’s hair with a few twists of the curling iron and then twirled the stool around to look at her work. “You have the most unusual shade of green eyes. With just a touch of dark-green eye shadow, they’d pop right out.”

“I’ve always worn blue,” Cricket said. “But I was talkin’ about you takin’ care of everyone else when we should be takin’ care of you.”

“You are takin’ care of me,” Jennie Sue said. “I’d be all alone if you and Rick weren’t stayin’ with me, and if you didn’t let me go to the farm, I’d probably be crazy.” She picked up a palette of eye shadow from the vanity. “Mind if I try green?”

“Not at all.” Cricket couldn’t very well tell her that the reason she’d worn blue since they were in school was because that’s what Jennie Sue wore all the time.

When Jennie Sue finished, she swung her around to face the mirror. “I applied a little blush to your cheeks.”

“Oh. My. Goodness!” Cricket gasped. “I’m almost pretty.”

“You are beautiful with or without makeup.” Jennie Sue flipped one curl forward over Cricket’s shoulder.

Cricket felt the heat rising to her face but could do nothing about it. “I’m just a plain Jane, but you’ve done wonders.”

“You are whatever and whoever your self-confidence allows you to be, Cricket. When you walk into a room, act as if you own the whole house, not just that room. Paste on a smile, even if it’s fake, and never tug at your skirt or mess with your necklace. That shows insecurity,” Jennie Sue said. “That comes straight from my mother on my way to my first Belle meeting when I was sixteen.”

“So the daughters get to go to the meetings?”