half expecting to see her broken heart staring back at her, along with Madge’s sympathy.
“I’m so sorry,” Madge murmured.
Judy blinked back tears. “Me, too. For the past few years, I thought not knowing how she was doing was bad, but not knowing where she is now is even worse. Brian’s only six, but he asks questions about his mother and his father that I can’t answer.”
Madge nodded. “Sarah’s had questions, too. She was three when we adopted her, but she still asks me to find her mommy for her. Death isn’t a concept she understands yet, I’m afraid.”
Judy swallowed hard and started trimming off the split ends. “I think I could handle explaining Candy’s death to Brian a lot easier than trying to explain why his mommy doesn’t come for him when she’s still alive. I’ve told him how sick she is. Unfortunately, he knows that, too, but he’s so young. He doesn’t understand drug addiction any more than I do, and I’m afraid he’s seen a lot of things he shouldn’t have.”
“At our age, raising a child isn’t easy,” Madge murmured.
“What about Brian’s father? Isn’t he able to take care of him?”
Judy snipped another section of hair and let her hand drop. “Duke?” She snorted. “Would you believe he drove that child cross-country on a motorcycle? Then he waited with him on my front porch until I got home from work, handed me an envelope with some legal papers making me Brian’s guardian and cycled off into the sunset all by his lonesome.”
“He didn’t!”
Judy cocked her head and studied Madge’s hair. Satisfied with the trim, she worked some conditioner through the sun-damaged strands of hair. “He sure enough did. I’m trying really hard, but raising Brian is a whole lot harder than raising Candy.” She sighed. “Or maybe I’m just a little bit older than I was back then, and now I don’t have Frank to help me. But at least school’s in session now, and I don’t have to pay a sitter while I’m working. They have an after-school program, too, so I can pick him up at six o’clock. That helps.”
Madge did not respond for several minutes. When Judy picked up her blow-dryer, Madge gripped the end of the dryer and held on to it. “We adopted Sarah, so our situations are different. I know that. But I have a friend who is going through the same thing as you are, raising her grandchildren. She’s in her fifties, too, like we are. I’m sure you know Barbara Montgomery, don’t you?”
“Not very well. Her granddaughters are in Brian’s class, though. She’s Ann’s customer. Owns Grandmother’s Kitchen on Antiques Row at the other end of town. It’s so sad about what happened to her son, but she hasn’t been in to the salon to have Ann do her hair since the funeral, and I haven’t seen her at school much, either.”
“It’s a tragedy. A true tragedy, especially for the twins.” She sighed. “Poor babies. First their mother runs off and disappears. Then they lose their daddy in a senseless crime,” she murmured as she shook her head. “I’m really worried about Barbara, too. Between losing Steve, raising the girls, running her shop, dealing with the stress of the continuing police investigation and praying they find the monster responsible for Steve’s death, she’s having a rough time all around,” Madge whispered.
Judy toyed with the cord on the dryer. “To be honest, I’ve been so busy with Brian and work all summer, I haven’t had much time to myself,” she murmured.
Madge smiled and let go of the dryer. “Maybe you and Barbara should get together. You have a lot in common, with both of you raising grandchildren. It might help.”
“You might be right,” Judy said absently while she turned the idea over in her mind.
“You know, Barbara’s been a friend of mine for years. She may be too proud to admit it, but she could probably use a friend in the same situation right about now, too.”
Barbara Montgomery, along with her husband, were definitely “old” Welleswood, like Judy, but they had been among the town elite for years, while Judy’s background was decidedly working class. Would the problems they were each encountering raising their grandchildren be enough to create a bond of friendship? Eager to find out, Judy shrugged. “I guess it couldn’t hurt.”
“It’d be good for you. For both of you. Why don’t I stop by her shop this afternoon before I pick up Sarah from school? I’ll talk to her and tell her to stop in to see you on her way home from work. I think she finishes up at four.”
“That’s all right. I’ll…I’ll make sure I walk over one day later this week. Today’s not really a good day for me. I’ve got to check the supplies and place an order. And somehow I wanted to find time to color my hair, so I may not even have time for lunch and still be at the Towers for the afternoon,” Judy insisted and switched on the blow-dryer to prevent Madge from arguing. Whether or not Judy would be able to find a friend in Barbara remained to be seen. Finding support or getting advice from someone else in a similar situation, however, was something she knew she really needed.
Madge could understand the challenges Judy faced—to a point. But she had not walked a single day down the path that led to having a grown child abdicate her responsibilities as a parent or raising a grandchild or making the emotional and financial adjustments that had become a necessary part of Judy’s life. Judy did not know Barbara Montgomery very well at all, except to know they lived and worked in very different social circumstances. She suspected she might have more in common with another single working woman trying to make ends meet than she would with Barbara, who was married to a very successful CPA and owned her own business to boot.
Judy finished styling Madge’s hair and met her gaze in the mirror. “Better?”
Madge smiled. “Much better. Thank you. I’ll need another appointment for early October for a coloring, though. By then, you and Barbara might be friends,” she suggested.
“Maybe,” Judy replied, but she was not nearly as certain about the prospect as Madge seemed to be. She removed the plastic cape, hiked up her slacks again and swept up while Madge left to use the ladies’ room.
When Madge returned, she pressed a bill into Judy’s hand and took a bite out of one of the miniature sticky buns that had been in the lounge. “You take care of yourself, and don’t forget to go over to see Barbara,” she murmured and left before Judy could respond.
She rang up the charge on the cash register and slipped the change, her tip, into her pocket. She was not surprised that Madge had tried to be so supportive, as well as generous. She was surprised, however, when Madge returned half an hour later. “I stopped to see Barbara. When I was talking to you earlier, I forgot that she closes the shop at three o’clock now that she picks up the girls after school. She said she’d have some time around one if you wanted to stop in to see her then. I know you said it was a really busy day for you, but sometimes you just have to leave one thing go because something else is more important.”
“Like coloring my hair? Thanks a bunch.” Judy chuckled to herself and shook her head. “Do you ever leave anything undone?”
“Of course not,” Madge teased.
The phone rang and interrupted their banter. As soon as she answered the phone and heard Mrs. Hart’s voice, her heart sank. When the elderly woman canceled her appointment and scheduled another one with Ann later in the week, Judy tried to remain polite. She was more relieved than disappointed not to have to deal with this particular customer today, in spite of
