Stealing Taffy

  “I always am.”

  “Great.” O’Connor grinned. “’Cause only the smart survive.”

  * * *

  Tanyalee crossed her legs and tried to get comfortable, but the hard plastic chairs against the front window of the Hair Apparent were not designed for comfort. Fortunately, when she’d put Fern’s name on the sign-in sheet she learned there was only a five-minute wait, which seemed quite reasonable. Fern, however, was groaning, squirming, and rolling her eyes like she was being tortured.

  “Calm down, Fern.”

  “I hate this place.”

  Tanyalee laughed. “We just got here. How can you hate it?”

  “It smells like day-old ass in here. I hate that chemical smell!”

  “Fern!” Tanyalee blinked several times, not quite believing what she’d just heard. “Those are very unladylike words. Besides, it’s just the perm solution.” She grabbed one of the hairstyle magazines from a basket and handed it to her. “Thumb through this and see how you might like to get your hair styled.”

  “What?” Fern’s mouth hung open. “I am not getting a perm, I don’t care what you say. I don’t want a style, either. The style I have is fine.”

  “You don’t have a style.”

  “I do so.”

  Tanyalee cocked her head and smiled as patiently as she could. “Well, maybe it’s time for a fresh look. Why don’t you just glance at a few options?”

  “Gawd!” Fern snatched the magazine and flipped through the pages so fast that the photos raced by in a blur.

  Tanyalee decided not to say anything. The conversation she’d had with Bitsy Stockslager that afternoon had been shocking. She’d had no idea of the trauma this little girl had been through, and hearing the details from Bitsy made her feel sick. A mother who just disappeared without a good-bye when Fern had been a toddler. A no-good father who couldn’t keep a job but was real good at getting himself thrown in jail. There were even short stints in foster care. But then her worthless father had dragged Fern to the meth lab up in Preston Valley, ignored her, and then got himself killed in jail. What had that man been thinking? How could he have cared so little about his own child? Fern was smart. She was pretty. She was funny. And Tanyalee knew that there was a lot of pain at the bottom of all the sarcasm. Bitsy had mentioned that Fern was seeing a therapist twice a week, though she didn’t go happily.

  Tanyalee had asked Bitsy for guidance. “What does she need from me?”

  “She needs a true friend,” Bitsy had said. “She needs someone she can trust, someone who can show her how to set healthy boundaries for herself. But most of all, she needs someone who won’t give up on her when she pushes back. And she will push back—hard.”

  “Yo! I think I’ve found just the ticket!”

  The comment yanked Tanyalee back to the present. Fern held up the magazine, displaying a photo of a girl with a purple spiked Mohawk, a dragon tattoo running down her cheek, and a silver ring in her nose.

  Tanyalee laughed. “If I took you home looking like that, Gladys would shake me stupid.”

  “Yep, she surely would!” Fern giggled, too, delight in her eyes, and, for an instant, her guard dropped. It was long enough for Tanyalee to see that Fern might actually like being with her, even just a little. It was a start.

  Just then, Tanyalee’s cell phone rang, and she rooted around in her bag to catch it before it went to voice mail. She stared at the number on the screen, puzzled. She didn’t recognize it.

  “Ain’t you gonna answer?”

  The ringtone looped over and over again, the Spice Girls telling everyone in the salon what they really, really wanted.

  “’Cause seriously, I don’t think I can stand that sound for another second.”

  “Oh, Lord-eee!” Tanyalee brought the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

  “What shade of pink are you wearing today?”

  Tanyalee’s whole body began to hum. Just hearing his voice made her vibrate from head to toe. Oh, for heaven’s sake! She’d spent the last few days trying everything she could to keep her mind off this man, to no avail. And now he was calling her? She hadn’t even given him her number. It was infuriating!

  “I can’t talk.”

  “Then why did you answer?”

  Why, indeed? Her head was spinning. “What I meant was … oh, hell … hello. Can I call you back?”

  “Are you on a hot date or something?”

  Tanyalee turned her face away from Fern’s stare and lowered her voice to a whisper. “I’m with Fern at the Asheville Mall.”

  “Ahhh.”

  Tanyalee detected the amusement in his one-word comment. Two things about that concerned her. One, that he would find her charitable work amusing. And two, that she was able to detect subtle undertones in his voice. How was that possible? They hardly knew each other!

  “I want you to have dinner with me tonight. I want to talk to you.”

  “Tonight?” Tanyalee glanced over her shoulder to see Fern’s chin tipped down and her eyebrows arched high as she stared in fascination. Tanyalee immediately looked away again. “Well, that sounds nice, but … really, can I call you back?”

  “I take it she’s right next to you.”

  “Yes.”

  “I have one more meeting here at the office today but I should be free by six. Call me then?”

  “Of course. No wait—I can’t! I have to drive Fern home and I won’t be able to call until well after seven.”

  “That’s fine. So I get to have you for dinner?”

  The dual meaning of that question sent a jolt of lust through her. Tanyalee’s brain suddenly filled with all sorts of inappropriate images—Dante holding her up against the hotel-room wall, Dante panting as he lay next to her on the hotel bed, his face when she jumped him and they fell into the lake, his hand on hers under Aunt Viv’s table, his hard butt under the Willamette Road streetlights, his lips locked on hers as he had her pinned in the grass under the willow tree …

  What was wrong with her? She daintily cleared her throat. “That would be lovely. Thankyousoverymuch.” Click. Tanyalee turned in her chair, slid the phone into her bag, and gathered her composure. When she looked at Fern again, the girl’s eyes were huge.

  “So what’s his name?”

  “Who?”

  “Your boyfriend.”

  “What?” Tanyalee sniffed. “I do not have a boyfriend.”

  “Right.”

  “That was my aunt Viv, if you must know.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Fern twisted her mouth into a shape that indicated she knew Tanyalee was full of it. “Well, tell your aunt Viv she might want to get her glands checked, since I don’t think old ladies are supposed to sound like Darth Vader.”

  Tanyalee was truly stumped. She didn’t have a clue as to how to answer. Were mentors permitted to discuss their love lives? That was one issue not included in the handbook. Also, Tanyalee was aware that Dante and Fern had met at that terrible drug place the Spiveys were running out in Preston Valley. She knew Dante wanted to talk with Fern again but Gladys wouldn’t allow it. So if Tanyalee admitted she had just received a call from DEA Special Agent Dante Cabrera, would Fern be alarmed? Frightened?

  “Oh, hell, Tanyalee.” Fern rolled her eyes. “I know all about the hot deee-eee-aaye agent.”

  Tanyalee heard herself gasp. “What? Who? But how—”

  “For crying out loud! Gladys has worked at the paper for fifty years and she knows everything. Plus, your aunt Viv told her.”

  Tanyalee felt her eyes widen. “Told her what, exactly?”

  “Oh, you know.” Fern scrunched up her nose in disgust. “How the two of you were swappin’ spit under the willow tree. The whole town knows.”

  “Fern Bisbee?”

  Tanyalee jumped to her feet. “Here! Here she is!” She waved her hand with enthusiasm, grateful that the conversation had been cut short.

  Fern shuffled her way across the salon like a horse thief headed to the hanging tree. Tanyalee fo
llowed along, deciding she would worry about Fern, Dante, and Viv’s big mouth a little later. Right now, she needed to provide some guidance for the stylist. “I was thinking we could keep most of the length but just shape it up a little, maybe add some nice layers around her face.”

  “That sounds perfect. Your daughter’s cheekbones are too pretty to hide behind a curtain of flat hair. Let’s get you shampooed.”

  Tanyalee saw Fern’s shoulders stiffen as she walked toward the shampoo sink. In a soft voice she said, “I just washed my hair this morning. It ain’t flat. And that lady sure as shit ain’t my mother.”

  Tanyalee sighed. Maybe she had expected too much. Maybe it would take more than one trip to the mall to get Fern to relax and enjoy herself. She crossed her arms over her chest and watched the stylist lather up Fern’s hair. The girl’s breathing steadied but she tapped her foot in nervousness.

  What was going on in that head of hers? Tanyalee wondered. What memories kept Fern awake at night? What made her cry? When did the loneliness hit hardest? Did she grieve for her father, or was his death almost a relief to her? Of course, Tanyalee could never imagine how awful things had been for her, but she did know a thing or two about losing both parents at a young age.

  Perhaps one day Tanyalee would let Fern know they had more in common than she could imagine.

  Silently, she wondered how she’d find a way to be what Fern needed most—a friend she could trust, a friend who would never give up on her.

  With a start, Tanyalee realized that if she could pull it off, it would be a first, since she’d never managed that for anyone—not her schoolmates, her family, or her lovers. And certainly not with her own sister.

  Chapter 13

  “Tell me what you want, what you really really want!”

  Tanyalee’s phone was ringing once more. She rooted around in her bag, feeling her heart pound. Could it be Dante again? Her body loosened in disappointment when she saw who had called. “Hey, Aunt Viv.”

  “Taffy? I just wanted to call and let you know that, well … how has your day been, sweetheart?”

  Tanyalee closed her eyes, right there in the Hair Apparent waiting room, and prayed for patience. “Fine. But I’m not sure I’ll be home for dinner tonight.”

  “That’s not why I called.”

  “Oh?” Just then, one of the stylists turned on her blow-dryer, forcing Tanyalee to step away from the noise and return to the waiting area. “Is everything all right at home?”

  “Of course! Yes, yes, everything’s just fine. Why wouldn’t it be?”

  Sometimes, speaking to Vivienne Newberry was like attempting to do a crossword puzzle in a foreign language. “What can I do for you, Aunt Viv?”

  “I only thought you should hear it from me…”

  Since those words never preceded good news of any kind, Tanyalee’s pulse began to race. “What’s happened?”

  “Well, now, it’s nothing terrible. It’s just that Cheri and J.J. are home from their honeymoon. They got back an hour ago, looking all tanned and relaxed and happy and all. I thought you should know.”

  She felt her heart thud to her knees. “Okay.”

  Aunt Viv remained silent.

  “Is there something else, Aunt Viv? I’m at the beauty parlor with Fern and I probably should go back and see how she’s doing.”

  “No. Nothing else. Why would you think there was something else?”

  Tanyalee sighed. She waited a moment, but Viv made no move to hang up. Lord love a duck!

  “Well, now, I suppose there is just one small thing more.”

  Of course there is. “Yes?”

  Aunt Viv breathed in sharply and unleashed a lightning-fast stream of words. “I might have mentioned those stepping stones of yours to Cheri and J.J., and I truly hope you don’t mind. You don’t mind, do you? It wasn’t some kind of secret or anything, was it?”

  Lord in heaven, that woman couldn’t keep her lips sealed if her life depended on it!

  Tanyalee stared absently out the glass window into the busy mall and sighed. She supposed Aunt Viv had a point. It wasn’t a secret. Damn near everyone in town knew Grandfather Garland had sent Tanyalee to rehab as a way to reduce her sentence, and most people knew that a big part of any 12-step recovery plan was taking responsibility for one’s actions and seeking forgiveness. So why would it bother her that Cheri and J.J. knew she’d be heading their way?

  Shame, that was why. Tanyalee was ashamed to come clean, which meant she was still trying to control what others thought of her. Sometimes it felt like she hadn’t learned a damn thing at Sedona Sunset, that her life since she’d been back had been nothing but one step forward and two steps back.

  “Aunt Viv, if there’s nothing else, Fern and I have a lot to accomplish before I take her home. I really should go.”

  Tanyalee tossed the phone into her bag, wandered through the salon sitting area, and stepped into the open mall. As always, the place echoed with the voices and laughter of high-school kids, retirees, and mothers and children. She raised her eyes to the atrium ceiling, a clear, late summer sky peeking through, and felt a rush of anxiety so sharp it took her breath away.

  She couldn’t delay it any longer. Cheri and J.J. were home and it was time to face all the ugly and humiliating garbage that had brought her to this point in her life. It was time to sit down with Cheri and get it all out, all the pain and jealousy and anger. She’d always imagined the talk with Cheri would be a long heart-to-heart, ending in a mutual understanding between sisters at the very least, and maybe even an opportunity to start fresh. Tanyalee was truly hopeful when it came to her sister.

  But she’d be lucky to get J.J. to stand still for more than ten seconds while she said her piece. The hate and disgust would pour off him in waves, the way it had since the day he caught her lying about their baby and set out to divorce her. But Tanyalee had no choice but to push through. She would have to dig deep to find the courage to do what had to be done with J.J., because if she truly wanted to be a better person, if she wanted to look at herself in the mirror without cringing for the rest of her life, that was the only way.

  She felt her eyes sting. Tanyalee sniffed and pulled her gaze away from the patch of blue sky, remembering what Dr. Leslie had always said. She could not control how J.J., Cheri, or anyone else reacted to her amends. The only thing Tanyalee could control was whether she took responsibility for her failings and asked to be forgiven. Dr. Leslie had assured her that as long as she was sincere and spoke without arrogance, good things would come of every one of those difficult conversations.

  She surely hoped Dr. Leslie knew what she was talking about.

  Tanyalee caught her reflection in the salon window, and for an instant she didn’t recognize the image looking back at her. Certainly, she saw a pretty, carefully put-together woman with every hair in place, every item of clothing coordinated and neatly pressed. But all that feminine tidiness couldn’t hide the regret in the woman’s eyes. And it suddenly clicked in Tanyalee’s brain—that woman was her, a woman who was chock-full of shame and regret.

  Her focus sharpened when she saw movement inside the salon. There was Fern, draped in a nylon cape, sitting on the edge of the stylist’s chair, waving her arms around in a panic. Tanyalee rushed inside the shop. The stylist’s eyes were wide and her face was a flustered pink.

  “For goodness’ sake! What’s all the fuss?” Suddenly, Tanyalee knew the answer to her own question. Fern’s hair. It had been washed and conditioned to a gloss, then razor-cut to a shoulder-length bob. The hair was softly angled at the ends but texturized to add volume, and the shiny blond bangs were fashionably long and uneven. Fern looked adorable, and in a perfectly age-appropriate way, to boot.

  “You’re beautiful!”

  “I look ridiculous.” Fern’s chin began to tremble. She quickly turned away, her new hairdo swinging in response to her movement. And that was when Tanyalee realized Fern wasn’t being cantankerous just for the pleasure of it—she was
terribly upset.

  Tanyalee smiled at the stylist and said, “It’s supercute. You did a great job. But could we have just a tiny minute of privacy?”

  The young woman nodded. “I’ll be up at the register.”

  “Thankyousoverymuch.” Tanyalee took a moment to gather her thoughts. She had a hunch that whatever she did next would either win a bit of Fern’s trust or blow the whole mentoring thing to hell and back. Regardless, she had to do something. The girl was having a crisis.

  She dropped to her knees, smack in the middle of a pile of hair clippings, and turned the chair so she could see Fern’s face. “What is it? Talk to me, Fern.” The girl’s pretty face was hidden by the long bangs. She shook her head. Tanyalee gently placed a hand on Fern’s bony knee. “You don’t like it, honey?”

  Fern sniffed. “I ain’t your honey and this haircut ain’t for somebody like me.”

  “Oh, Fern.” Tanyalee placed a finger beneath the girl’s chin and tipped her face upward. The bangs fell away, revealing that her mouth was pulled into a tight, thin line, and her eyes were sealed with wet lashes. Tanyalee felt her heart drop. “What in heaven’s name do you mean by that?”

  “I mean…” Fern’s eyes popped open, and they flashed with anger. “It’s obvious I ain’t pretty enough for a haircut like this. It looks stupid on me, like it should be on some other girl’s head.”

  Tanyalee couldn’t help it—she gasped. Had no one in her life taken the time to tell her how wonderful she was? That had to be the case, because here Fern was in a beauty parlor feeling unworthy of a fifteen-dollar haircut.

  “Well, bless your heart.” Tanyalee stood, dusted the blond hairs from her slacks, and went to stand behind Fern. Both their faces were visible in the large salon mirror.

  “Let me tell you what I see when I look at you, Miss Fern.” Tanyalee brushed her fingertips down Fern’s hairstyle, admiring how healthy and alive it felt. “First off, you are very pretty. You have a gorgeous peachy complexion and beautiful blue eyes. Your smile—and I’m talking about a real smile like the one you gave Miss Carmichael today—that smile is so lovely it can knock the wind out of a person. And you’re perceptive, Fern. Smart as heck. You’re funny, too, though I do realize I am often the butt of your jokes.” Tanyalee rested her hands on Fern’s shoulders, smiled at her in the mirror, then leaned down to whisper in her ear. “I admit I nearly busted a gut when you called me Mr. Miyagi.”