giggled and fluttered her eyelids. “If I didn’t already have an escort, I might consider the offer.”
Now, that was ridiculous! Kate Vanderloo would rather get run over by a train than go to the Valentine’s Day Ball with a soda clerk.
Jen gave Minnie a look of disgust. “Let’s go.” She spun around to leave.
Minnie slurped up a mouthful of soda and swallowed. The bubbles tickled her nose, and she sneezed.
That drew Kate’s attention. “Oh, Minnie. I didn’t see you there. Sally tells me you are serving punch again at the ball. I hope you don’t spill it this time.”
Minnie wanted to disappear. It was bad enough that she had to dress in a maid’s uniform and wait on Pearlman’s elite, but she couldn’t bear doing it in front of her former classmates. She stared at the Photoplay cover. If only...
The bell above the drugstore door signaled a new arrival and drew the attention away from her. Tall Peter Simmons entered. He cast a quick look at the counter and swiped off his cap before stomping the snow from his old work boots.
“Oh, it’s just Peter.” Minnie turned back to her soda.
“Just Peter? What do you mean?” Jen sat back down. “I thought you were friends.”
“A little, but he’s been acting strange lately.”
“How? He seems perfectly normal to me.”
“I don’t know.” Minnie had run into him more than once in the alley that ran behind her house. He could take that route from work to home, but he seemed to always time it for when she was coming back from work. Then he wouldn’t say anything intelligent, just mutter something about the weather or ask how work had gone. “He just acts different.”
“Ahhh.”
Minnie knew exactly what her sister was thinking. “Don’t get any ideas.”
“Did I say a thing?”
“You don’t have to,” she muttered low enough so no one could hear. “Between you and Ruth, you practically have us married. Stop it.”
“All right, all right. The subject’s closed.” Jen stood. “Are you ready yet?”
As Minnie drank the last of her soda, Kate snickered and whispered something to her group of friends. The giggling girls were all watching Peter, who had asked for a bottle of Lydia Pinkham’s tonic from the druggist. At their laughter, embarrassment bled up his face clear to the roots of his tousled brown hair.
Minnie felt sorry for him. Peter was a decent guy. It wasn’t his fault he’d lost his parents and got sent to Pearlman by that New York orphan society. He’d gotten a good home with Mrs. Simmons, but then she lost her house and had to move in with her daughter. That meant Peter had to stay with his foster brother’s family at Constance House, the local orphanage. That must have reminded him every day that he was an orphan, too. Poor guy! He could act like an idiot sometimes, but he didn’t deserve Kate’s ridicule.
“It’s for Mariah,” Peter explained while he waited for the druggist to fetch the tonic. “She’s not feeling well.”
Peter’s sister-in-law had her hands full running the orphanage. Peter helped out when he wasn’t working at the family’s motor garage. He was good with his hands. He’d built the shelving and counter at the bookstore, helped out in Sunday school, and was the first guy to set up tables and chairs for any church function. He deserved Kate’s respect.
Instead, the girl laughed at him.
With every passing second, Minnie got angrier until she couldn’t stand it anymore. “Mariah’s lucky to have a brother like Peter helping her out.”
If anything, his face got redder, but it did draw Kate’s attention away from him.
The girl’s mouth curved into a smirk. “Minnie’s sweet on Peter.”
Her girlfriends seconded the proclamation.
Minnie felt her cheeks heat. “Am not!”
The girls giggled harder.
“Then why are you blushing?” Kate asked.
“Am not!” But that wasn’t true. Her face burned and was probably as red as Peter’s. Her gaze dropped to the magazine cover. If only she looked like Clara Bow, she could command respect. The fashionable guys would notice her. All it would take was a new hairstyle. She jutted out her chin. “For your information, I’m going to marry a sheik.”
Kate snorted. “A sheik? You? What a laugh. No sheik would look twice at someone like you. If you want my advice, you had better settle for a local guy.” She inclined her head toward Peter, making her point perfectly clear. “Come along, girls. We wouldn’t want to interfere with Minnie’s romance.”
The girls headed for the door, singing, “Peter and Minnie, sweet as can be...”
Minnie wanted to throw her soda at them, but the Bible said to turn the other cheek. It didn’t mention how hard that was to do. She slurped up the melted ice that tasted faintly of cherry soda. It was hopeless. She had only a hint of flavor, while girls like Kate sparkled.
“Forget them,” Jen said. “They only care about themselves.”
“I know.” And deep down she did know that, but would it really be such a terrible thing to be attractive and important for once? Just one day, Lord. One little day.
“They should get their mouths washed out with soap,” Jen added. “Let’s go.”
Minnie dug around in her pocket for the nickel to pay for her soda but came up with nothing. She frowned and hunted in her other pocket before a sudden thought distracted her. She could look like Clara Bow. Oh, she couldn’t afford a real hairstylist, but Jen had cut her own hair. It didn’t look that great, but then it had to be easier to cut someone else’s hair than your own. “Will you cut my hair?”
“Me?” Jen’s eyebrows lifted with surprise. “Mother always cuts your hair.”
“She won’t give me a bob. I want my hair to look like this.” She pointed to the Photoplay cover. “It shouldn’t be too difficult. Easier than cutting your own hair, and you did a pretty good job on that.”
“After Ruth straightened out all my mistakes. Why don’t you ask her?”
“Because she’d take Mother’s side. Will you do it? Please?”
“All right, then, but no promises you’ll look like that cover.”
“Good!” Minnie clapped her hands together.
“And you have to take the blame when Mother sees it.”
Minnie had no choice but to agree. Mother would throw a conniption fit. She loved Minnie’s long hair. Well, times were changing, and Minnie intended to change along with them. She was going to become a modern woman, and modern women wore both their hair and their skirts short. Modern women had guys, not beaus. They
