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Chapter Nine

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Vivian rounded the corner in the downtown morning light of Hub City. Last night’s heavy rainfall put a chill in the air, making the six-block stroll tolerable. Sneaking through the side streets allowed her to avoid almost everyone from seeing her tousled hair. She glided her hand into her dress pocket, touching the folded piece of paper, a tonic advertisement she’d recently torn from a magazine.

Sallie’s Beauty Parlor stood at the intersection of Third and Main. Floor to ceiling windows faced both streets with the newest beauty supplies on display. Browsing through the window, she didn’t find the tonic from the ad. Staying on top of a regimen would keep her looking her best for as long as possible. Every woman knew beauty enticed a man to marry and her time was running out.

These past four years, Benjamin had been led to believe she was only one year older. In fact, she had begun school one year late and needed to repeat the fourth grade. A story she had no intention of retelling anyone. She’d been able to stay looking young, but lately, her skin’s appearance had some fine lines. Marriage couldn’t wait any longer. In less than six months, thirty would catch up to her.

Entering the salon, an odor of burnt hair drifted through the air from the permanent wave machine. Some women lost chunks of hair trying to glamorize under the curling mechanism. She never intended to attempt such a venture on her perfect waves. The chairs were all empty as she was the first patron to arrive on Saturday morning.

“Good morning, Vivian.” Sallie stood near the beauty chair in her rose-colored uniform, motioning her hands with excitement. “Come right over. I’ll get you started. What would you like done today?” Her gum popped like a hot kernel in a kettle of grease.

Vivian untied the scarf and removed it from her head. “I want the full treatment—a shampoo, set, style, manicure, and facial. Are you able to squeeze it all in by early afternoon? I have a dinner date this evening.”

“We should be able to accommodate, however, let me check with the girls and see which one can do your manicure.” Sallie chewed again while pointing toward the empty seat. “I’ll be right back.”

Vivian pulled the hanging drapery to enclose the area on both sides of her and sat. Now no one would be able to view her from the front windows or the other parlor chairs. She examined her reflection in the mirror, moving her head from side to side while running her fingers through her hair. Her locks could use a trim, maybe she could add it in too. Only Sallie would need to work fast. She had to be the chattiest lady who could babble on about any topic, but her skills as a hairdresser were the top in town.

Sallie wiggled her fingers in the air with excitement. “Good news, we’ll get you in for the manicure.” Her full crimson lips matched the color of her moon manicure.

Vivian liked the look of both the tip and the natural crescent at the cuticle left unpolished. Maybe this time she’ll try the same style for her nails. “Delightful, I want to look exceptional this evening.” She reached into her pocket, pulling out the advertisement. “Do you have this tonic?”

Sallie read over the information. “I don’t carry this particular one. I have heard of it though. I’m sure I can mix up something comparable. Do you want me to try?”

“Yes, I do.” She rubbed her forehead. “My skin’s shiny and slightly oily right here.”

“Let me take a look.” Sallie touched above her brow. “I’ve got a little something I can put on if the tonic doesn’t do the trick. I’ll mix it up first, we’ll shampoo after. What do you have planned for tonight?”

“Benjamin asked me to dinner this evening. I’m finding it difficult to contain my enthusiasm.” She could count on one hand the number of times he’d taken her anywhere these last months.

Sallie chose rose essential oil, added it to a dish, and picked up witch hazel. “Is tonight something special?”

“I certainly hope so. It’s been a while since he’s surprised me with anything. That’s why I scheduled the full treatment. Of course, your beautician expertise always makes me look my best.”

One of Sallie’s pencil-thin eyebrows arched. “You’re too kind.” She took the cap off the lavender oil, sniffed it, and dripped a few drops into a small stone dish.

“I love the smell of lavender.” Vivian waved her hand in a circular motion, leaning into the aroma. “It’s always been one of my favorites.”

“Mine too. The herb is calming and helps with headaches too. Usually, all of the tonics I mix contain at least a drop.” Sallie picked up the chamomile bottle, added a little to the concoction along with a dab of vegetable glycerin. “I’ll do my best to help you get ready for this evening. Tip your head back while I rub this in.”

She sucked in a quick breath of air. “It’s cold. Will this help with blemishes too?”

“Yes, it’s another benefit to using lavender. Relax now for a bit while I clean this up. Then I’ll begin on your hair.”

Vivian had no interest while Sallie talked nonstop about her family. They didn’t seem any different from anyone else’s. Her eyelids drooped. Snap. Sallie’s gum brought her back to consciousness and the reality of this evening. The last time they should have gone to dinner, Benjamin chose playing cards with the men over her. She expected him to make up for the slight even though he didn’t know it yet. He should bring a lovely gift, followed by flowers, along with her favorite assorted chocolates in the tin box. Of course, they would go to the nicest restaurant in town. She would have the best meal on the chef’s menu. At this point, she could forgive him...just a little. Besides, there would be a lifetime for him to make it up to her.

Everything was coming together now since Fredrick agreed to cater the wedding. Luckily, she worked well under pressure since the ceremony would be next month as it was the only available date. She could make it work and Benjamin would have enough time to get an astonishing suit. Whatever surprise he had planned for her tonight wouldn’t surpass her news about the wedding date being moved up.

Sallie lowered the chair. “Your set is ready to go under the dryer.”

Vivian followed Sallie to the next phase of beauty. The hairdryer looked like such an odd apparatus. It not only warmed her head, but her entire body became uncomfortable under the heat. The worst part was the constant hum in her ears, making it almost impossible to hear anyone speak. Everyone knew the finest gossip happened at the parlor. She didn’t want to miss any of it. If she had to be stuck under the soaring temperature, at least she would have time to glance through more beauty magazines. They helped her keep up with all the glamour articles, especially any new products by Elizabeth Arden.

Vivian flipped through the pages. No story seemed interesting. Probably because Sallie had asked if they were celebrating something special. She wouldn’t be caught off-guard about an important day in their relationship. On their first date, the leaves had turned to bright yellows, reds, and oranges. That timeframe didn’t fit. The day he asked her to go steady didn’t coincide either. Nor did either of their birthdays—hers in December while his in September. The day he proposed, they had gone to dinner. By the time they were done, the snowfall exceeded the prediction. They had ended up stuck for over an hour. Benjamin shoveled around the entire car to get them out of the drifts. It couldn’t be then either, but it might be their first kiss. Her diary would confirm it as soon as she got home.

After a half-hour, Sallie reached under the dryer, patting the hair around her head. “We’re ready to put the hair clips in.”

Vivian grabbed another magazine and followed her to the chair. A boisterous woman’s voice carried on from the other side of the curtain. The whole parlor must be listening to the conversation about her daughter’s upcoming wedding with a distinguished oil company’s son. Whoever the woman was, she had every right to brag about such an accomplishment for her daughter. The son she spoke of fit the description of only one man, Tom. Vivian courted Tom the summer between her junior and senior years of high school until her mother decided he wasn’t the right man for her. In the following years, she lost all hope of ever finding a man with a similar status until she met Benjamin. This time she wouldn’t give up so easily.

As the clips scraped across Vivian’s scalp, she flipped to the next article which seemed rather interesting. The title “Beauty Routine of a Hollywood Starlet” revealed dark reds, maroons, and raspberry lip color becoming the most popular, according to the Hollywood stars. With her hair color and olive skin tone, the best choice would be the dark red. The voices on the other side of the curtain rang out again and she awaited another gossipy story. The high-pitched voice of the hairdresser on the other side of the curtain had to be Sallie’s cousin working on the boastful lady’s hair.

“A few more rolls and you’ll be ready to go under the dryer.”

“I don’t suppose you heard about the Blanchard farm under quarantine for polio.” Mrs. Boastful posed the question, not for an answer.

“No, how did you hear?”

“My husband did at the butcher shop. I sure hope it’s an isolated incident. You remember what happened the last time it swept through the town...all the schools closed.”

“I sure do. Have you heard how the family’s doing?” Sallie’s cousin sounded sympathetic more than inquisitive.

“The son is paralyzed.”

“That’s awful.”

“What’s worse is his fiancée was seen in the arms of another man.” Mrs. Boastful raised her voice for the juicy tidbit so everyone could hear.

“Shameful. Let’s get you over to the dryer.”

Vivian figured out Mrs. Boastful’s daughter was Agnes Jones. She was a lucky one to marry Tom but certainly didn’t seem his type. In school, she was a quiet girl with looks so plain she hadn’t attracted any of the boys. Why Tom would find her interesting, let alone marry her, showed his bad judgment. Agnes must have a lucrative dowry, be a floozie or there had to be some family business connection. This story didn’t have any rumor worth repeating.

On the other hand, the engaged woman in another man’s arms would be one to consider. For sure, she would keep this scandalous story from Benjamin. If the tale of the prestigious banker with a comparable status didn’t persuade him about making a commitment or breaking one, it’s doubtful a well-off farmer’s fiancée would make any difference. Quite certainly, a recurrence of the same argument wouldn’t be on her agenda this evening.