Chapter Five

A WEEK INTO HER VISIT, Evelyn determined home wasn’t that sweet.

Jackson spent his free time attached to his PlayStation controller, enjoying his last months before college. Her childhood friend Maxine Owens had to leave on a writing assignment. She couldn’t picture what Peter would do next in her story because all she saw was Kevin, boarding the flight for Europe. Arm in arm with Samantha Jane. Swapping salted peanut–flavored kisses in business class.

So she wore herself out running here and there. From Harris Teeter with groceries. From her sister’s phone calls. From her mama’s observing eyes. From thoughts of Granny B. Today, Evelyn’s fleeing feet had led her to Headquarters, the full-service salon Elisabeth—Lis—had opened the year her husband died. Evelyn got there early for their “date” to visit her daddy’s grave site, so she hid behind the wood-and-iron screen in the lobby.

Lis strode through the aisles in her three-inch-heeled sandals. She leaned in close to a stylist’s ear and graced her with her Southern, yet professional lilt. “Laurie, you must base your client completely before using the chemical. Let me show you, dear.” Effortlessly, yet surely mindful of the expensive red pantsuit she was wearing, Lis demonstrated how to liberally spread the coating behind the ears, above the brows, and around the temple, protecting her client from chemical burns. Done, she stripped off the gloves as she depressed the trash can’s pedal with a red-tipped toe. Again, she leaned into her stylist.

Evelyn watched her mama’s lips move as Laurie bobbed her head up and down and blinked back tears. Then Lis smiled again and moved toward her office nestled in the rear. On her way she chatted with two other clients sitting under cooled hair dryers. Mama hated to see customers idle like cars at a red light. Tired of wasting gas herself, Evelyn gathered her bag and stepped into view.

“Evelyn! Is that you?”

“Girl, you look good!”

“Isn’t she though? Just like her sister—”

“And her mama.”

“Miss Lis didn’t tell me you were home . . .”

Evelyn played the role of visiting dignitary as she stopped to formally introduce herself to Laurie and chat it up with Saundra, John, and the other stylists who had been family to Lis since Graham’s death. She shared some Krispy Kreme doughnuts she’d picked up, handed out smiles and promises to visit soon, and wound her way to the back.

Before Evelyn could tap-tap on the partially open door, she heard her mama expel a breath and mutter, “Order dryer caps. Track anti-humectant shipment. Discuss procedures with stylists. Do something with Evelyn.”

Evelyn swung open the door. “I have some ideas if you’re fresh out.”

Lis barely blinked an eye as she set down the pen and notepad. “I was wondering when you’d come out from hiding. Now be careful you don’t knock my dress off the hanger. I’m changing out of this pantsuit before we visit your daddy. I’ll be ready to go in a minute.”

Of course Mama knew I was there. Evelyn stepped in the room and closed the door quietly behind her. The green sundress hanging on the back of the door swung side to side before coming to a stop.

As she watched her mama shuffle papers, Evelyn’s eyes zeroed in on a photograph on the corner of Lis’s desk. In it, a tuxedoed Graham and Evelyn in a white ball gown posed at the top of a winding staircase. Evelyn was thirteen, a year before Daddy died, on the night she’d tucked her left hand into his right arm so he could usher her into Mount Laurel society. She could still smell his Old Spice. Still feel the taffeta crinkle every step she took. Still hear Mama’s voice.

“Now, don’t show all your teeth, girl. You know how your eyes close when you smile too big.”

“Darn if you didn’t show all those pearly whites during that first dance.”

Lis’s words plucked Evelyn from her reverie.

“That was because Daddy told me, ‘Evelyn, you’re the most beautiful girl in the world’ when we danced that night.”

“And you were.”

Evelyn felt her forbidden, yet familiar smile stretch toward her earlobes. “Why, Ma—”

“Miss Lis, you asked me to stop in when I was through?” Laurie peeked in. She made the shortened version of Elisabeth’s name sound like a z.

Evelyn whirled toward the door. This time her mama, too, looked unsettled, like she was caught between a rock and a hard place. Or maybe it irked her to hear her name mispronounced.

“Did you still want to see me?” The stylist stepped deeper into the office.

Lis looked from her daughter to her employee and seemingly opted for the hard place. “Laurie, why don’t you throw a load of towels in, unpack the new shampoo, and restock the shelves up front? I’ll catch up with you after my date.”

Laurie swallowed the directive soaked in the syrup of Lis’s mellow drawl. “Yes, ma’am. Good to meet you, Evelyn.”

“You, too.”

Lis moved Evelyn’s photograph to a bookshelf and faced her baby girl.

Evelyn itched beneath her once-over. “What?”

“Nothing. Just admiring that color on you.”

“Really? Actually, I thought of you when I bought this dress.”

“Re-ally?” Lis’s right brow arched delicately as the word dripped from her mouth. “How so? And why don’t you come closer so I can see you properly.”

The better to criticize you with, my dear. Evelyn crossed in front of the file cabinet and stepped around the desk. “Well, I know how much you like Carolina blue. And you told me A-line dresses complement my figure.” Actually, what you said was “They’re good at hiding what you don’t want people to see.”

“Well, it won’t complement it for long if you keep popping those.” Lis nodded toward the Krispy Kreme box.

“Do you dive this deep into Yolanda’s or Lionel’s business?” Evelyn perched a hip on the edge of the desk.

“Why are you worried about Yolanda or Lionel?”

“Why are you worried about me?”

“Maybe I love you more.”

Her employees might have mistaken Lis’s pursed lips for a smile, but Evelyn knew better. She snorted. “Maybe you need to love me a little bit less.” She plopped the box down where her picture had sat moments before. “Besides, I thought we could celebrate.” And I had a craving for a glazed doughnut.

“Celebrate what?”

“My visit, of course.”

“Oh . . . of course.” Lis moved aside some paperwork and peeked into the box. She smiled sincerely and extracted a glazed lemon-filled doughnut. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

Because you’re too busy thinking up ways to drive me nuts. Evelyn didn’t voice her thoughts but was sure her face spoke volumes, especially to her mother, who was extremely well-read in all things Evelyn.

“Well, speaking of celebrations . . . what about mine? Is your aunt Sarah going to make it? I know they’ll have to work around her husband’s schedule at the hospital. And gracious, where will all those children sleep? She never goes anywhere without them. Maybe she’s afraid they’ll run away when she’s not looking, though it would serve her right. But don’t tell her I said so.” She chuckled wryly. “You know, even though she left Spring Hope as soon as she could, I don’t think Spring Hope ever left her. Maybe that’s why we get along.”

Evelyn knew the family still referred to Sarah as the “knee baby”; Mama’s youngest sister was barely out of her cloth diapers when Milton arrived. Sarah’s husband, Samuel, headed the emergency department at a New York City hospital while she homeschooled their six children.

Elisabeth used her pinkie finger to flick off a bit of glaze from the corner of her crimson mouth. “Yolanda says she can’t seem to pin you down these days, so you and Kevin must be trying to keep something big under wraps. What have you two cooked up for my birthday?”

“Kevin?”

“Yes. Kevin. Your husband?” Her eyes pored over her daughter’s face. “Is everything all right? Is his job okay? Believe me, I know how hard it can be to run your own business. Hard on the finances . . . and a marriage.”

“There you go again. Are you as concerned about Lionel and Yolanda? Just because my sister and brother are such successful movers and shakers doesn’t mean that they’re doing any better—or worse—than I am.” Evelyn slowly extracted a slightly warm glazed doughnut and chewed hard to ignore the pangs of her conscience. Of course Kevin and I are doing worse than everybody else. Why else would I be sitting here in Mama’s office getting lectured about eating a doughnut? That is, of course, unless Yolanda’s husband is a philanderer, too. Or maybe Lionel’s wife is fighting some inner demons. Not that anyone would have ever thought Kevin had horns and a tail.

“Evelyn . . . Evelyn . . . Evelyn. Why are you always comparing yourself? They’re my children, same as you.” Lis unlocked the bottom left drawer and withdrew a stack of receipts. She started arranging them in three piles on her desk. “I’m just as concerned about them as I am about you. Why wouldn’t I be? But I don’t have to go through these changes with Yolanda and Lionel. I just ask Lionel, ‘Baby, how’re things with your wife?’ and he says, ‘Mama, well, you know Muriel was mad at me last week because I was working too much . . .’” She added a receipt to the second stack and glared at Evelyn. “All you need to do is share with me every now and again—”

At that moment, the door opened and Laurie—Lis’s rock—poked her head around the crack. “Uh, excuse me. I’m finished. Do you want me to take a client off the floor and—?”

“No!” Lis rose, disturbing her neat rectangles.

To Evelyn, Laurie looked as ruffled as the receipts on her mama’s desk.

“Just take over the phone from Charlie, will you?”

Laurie nodded silently, her brow furrowed, and backed out of the room.

Evelyn faced her mother. “What’s going on with her?”

“So we can talk about Laurie’s business, just not yours?”

As Evelyn drew in a deep breath, she thought about Kevin and his big secret, Granny B, and what she herself was carrying around these days. “I don’t mean to sound defensive, Mama. I do appreciate your concern. If I needed your help . . . umm-hmm . . . If I had something to tell you, I would.” Now, that was closer to the truth. Oh, there was so much more than that. So much more that she would not, could not say to Mama. Her mother’s look told her she knew it, too. She conjured up a smile and wiggled the doughnut in the air. “Mama. Listen. I’m great. Kevin is great—everything’s great. Now why don’t we talk about something else? How does that sound?”

“Great,” Mama muttered. She lowered herself to her chair and straightened her bundles. “But you’d probably better quit with the doughnuts while you’re ahead, Evelyn. We will be going out to dinner tonight after visiting your daddy’s grave.”

“M—”

“And speaking of visits . . . what about my mama, Evelyn? When are you planning to visit her?”

So far, she’d sidestepped anything that might reveal last month’s Situation (and she’d forever use capital letters when she thought of It, kind of like “the Flood” or “the Fall”). But nothing was easy with Mama. Evelyn shifted from one cheek to the other on the corner of her desk.

Lis licked her doughnut’s gooey lemon center. “You’ve been here almost a week, and you haven’t made it to Spring Hope yet.”

“Umm . . .”

“‘Umm’?”

“Well . . .”

“‘Well’ what?”

“Well, I—”

The office phone jangled. Lis held up a long finger. “Hold that thought. Headquarters. This is Elisabeth.”

Evelyn decided to walk through the door of opportunity and hopped off the desk. She wiggled her fingers good-bye and mouthed, “I’ll pick up the flowers.” If she left now, she’d have time to lie down for an hour or so before meeting her mother at Hillcrest Cemetery.

She had a feeling she was going to need some reinforcements.