and I’ve been dreaming about Spinners for weeks. All that sweet, buttery dough laced with cinnamon and topped with a mound of chocolate icing.” She sighed loudly again. “Set aside a chocolate-iced one for me, will you? Just one couldn’t hurt.”
Ann was off her diet more than she was on it, and Judy was loath to encourage her to do something that would adversely affect her health. When she got to the lounge, she set the box down, lifted out the tray, set it on the table and grinned. “Sorry. No Spinners today,” she replied, relieved at the day’s offerings.
“Any cheese Danish?”
“No. Just miniature sticky buns that you don’t really like. There’s still some fresh fruit in the refrigerator,” she suggested, hoping to convince Ann to follow her diet and try to prevent another debilitating episode that would either keep her off her feet for a few weeks or trigger another eating binge that would add even more pounds.
Judy stored the box away and opened the refrigerator. “I have a yellow Delicious apple, a pear and a navel orange. And there’s a quart of cider you can warm up if you want something hot to drink.”
“One orange. Three sticky buns. And don’t argue. I’m still the boss around here, and just in case I need to remind you, it’s dangerous to argue with a postmenopausal woman.”
“That’s funny. I distinctly remember my boss telling me just last week that I should ignore her when she asked for something she shouldn’t eat,” she teased, even as she arranged a plate with the orange and three sticky buns and put it back into the refrigerator.
“That must have been your other boss. The one with willpower.”
Judy laughed, went back into the shop and grabbed her smock that she put on while she made her way to the reception desk where Ann stood waiting with her bag of tools and supplies. When Judy nearly tripped, she stopped to hike up her slacks.
“New slacks?” Ann asked.
“I got them off the clearance rack. I meant to hem them, but as usual these days, time has a way of running out before all my chores are done.” She took a deep breath and smiled. “Things should calm down a bit now that Brian’s in school.”
“I’m sure they will. Just be careful, will you? I don’t want you to trip and fall and hurt yourself.”
“I’ll be fine.”
Ann nodded. “I should be back in plenty of time for my ten o’clock,” she said before she headed toward the door.
“I’ll be here. I’ve got plenty to do. It’s supply day, remember? In between appointments, I’ll be inventorying the stock.”
Ann looked back over shoulder and lifted one brow. “What about my goodies?”
“One orange. Three sticky buns. I have them on a plate in the refrigerator, although it’s against my better judgment.”
Grinning, Ann waved goodbye. Before the door closed behind her, Judy was already reviewing her appointments for today. The first one, for Madge Stevens, a longtime client, brought a lift to her heart that the second appointment with Mrs. Hart quickly erased, and she prayed for an extra dose of patience to get through it.
When Madge arrived a few minutes later, promptly at nine o’clock, Judy greeted her with a smile and a bear hug. “I’ve missed you.”
Madge returned the hug, stepped back and grimaced. “I’ve missed you, too, but I’m afraid my hair has missed you even more. I was going to borrow that special conditioner you gave me for Andrea when she was getting chemo, but she’d used it all up and neither one of us could remember the name of it.”
“No problem. Andrea’s still doing well?”
Madge smiled. “It’s been two years now, and she’s still cancer-free, thankfully.”
Judy inspected Madge’s blond, shoulder-length hair and grinned. “Sun and salt air might be your nightmare, but they’re a hairdresser’s best friend. Don’t worry. I’ve got some of the conditioner. I’ll use it today and send you home with some, but we’ll have to snip off those split ends first.”
Madge shrugged. “Getting my hair cut is a small price to pay for being able to rent a place for a month at the shore with my sisters. Jenny and the girls were able to stay for the whole time, and Andrea even managed to get down for a few days each week. What a great month!”
An only child, Judy shook her head and wished she had had a sister or two like Madge. Judy had not had a single day off the entire summer, either. Not since Brian had arrived. “Go on back. I’ll give you a good wash, then we’ll see about taking care of those split ends.”
Within moments, she had Madge freshly shampooed and settled into the chair at her station, and she had a tube of conditioner on the counter for Madge to take home. Judy rearranged the plastic drape to protect Madge’s lavender outfit and started to comb her hair free of snags. “We’ll have you looking perky again in no time,” she assured her.
Madge chuckled. “Now that Sarah is in school, maybe I’ll have a little more time to get perky and help Russell at the store, too.”
“Business is still good?” Judy asked and wondered how or why anyone would buy the gourmet food or expensive trinkets for cats, all available at Russell’s store.
“At the Purrple Palace? It’s going perfectly,” Madge teased. “I’m so pleased for Russell. He’s worked hard to make the store a success.”
“And Sarah. Is she is still attending the preschool program?”
“She turned five in the spring, so she’s in full-day kindergarten. Remember when my boys and your Candy started school? They had half-day kindergarten sessions back then. That’s all changed now, I suppose to accommodate so many working mothers.”
Judy’s hands stilled as memories of her daughter surfaced. When Candy started school, Judy was young and hopeful, with her husband, Frank, at her side. Now he was gone, and Candy was somewhere in California battling her addiction again.
Madge pointed to the photograph Judy had taped to her mirror. “Is that your grandson?”
Judy looked into the mirror and locked her gaze with Madge’s. Although they were very close in age, the two women looked very different. Madge wore her years well. She had a deft hand with her makeup and both the time and the money to make sure her hair was colored well and styled fashionably. Like the proverbial shoemaker’s son who had no shoes, Judy had little time for her own hair. She wore it short and shaggy now, and her gray roots reminded her she was long overdue for a color touchup. Struck by the difference between them, as well as Madge’s question, she took a deep breath and turned her attention back to Madge’s hair. “Yes. He’s in first grade. You’ve been away, so I guess you haven’t heard. Brian’s staying with me…for a while longer.”
Madge frowned. “I thought I’d heard he was only going to be with you for the summer and that he’d be going back to school in California.”
Judy took another deep breath. “Candy’s not well,” she whispered, relying once again on the euphemism she had used for so many years now, although Madge knew all too well that Candy had been battling drug addiction for most of her life. Madge had been there through Candy’s rebellious high
