• 5 •

The library proved to be a treasure trove of free information. The shelves in the finance section offered a wide selection of books from finance gurus like Dave Ramsey, Suze Orman, and Robert Kiyosaki, and Rachel and Jess loaded up.

“It looks like you two are going to be busy,” observed Lucy the librarian as she checked out their books. She picked up one. “Budgets for Babes. This looks good.”

“Well, good for us, anyway,” said Jess. “We're babes,” she added with a wink, making Lucy smile.

“While we're here let's check out the Friends of the Library book sale,” suggested Rachel.

So after they'd stowed their borrowed books in Jess's car, they went to the lower level of the small building where two rooms had been set aside for the library's popu lar monthly fund-raiser. It seemed half of Heart Lake had decided to check out the sale. Senior citizens looked through gardening tomes and cookbooks while moms and preschoolers raided the picture book section. Several women had gathered at the women's fiction and romance section and were pulling down paperbacks by their favorite authors.

“We're going to die from lack of oxygen,” moaned Rachel as she and Jess swam through the crowd toward the finance corner.

“But we'll die with a book in our hands,” Jess said as she squeezed between two walls of people.

The woman in front of them smiled over her shoulder at Jess. “What are you looking for?”

“A miracle,” said Rachel.

“We need to get our financial act together,” Jess elaborated.

“Don't we all,” said an older man with a grizzled chin and tufts of gray hair growing out of his ears. “At the rate my savings are disappearing I'm going to be spending the rest of my retirement flipping burgers at Crazy Eric's.”

Rachel pulled a hardback off a top shelf. “Here's a good one.”

Jess read over her shoulder. “Your Magic Money Makeover.”

The man gave a snort. “They make it sound so easy.”

“I guess that's the way to sell books,” said Jess.

“Who would buy a book titled Welcome to Your Life: It Sucks?” put in Rachel.

“Believe me, ladies,” said the older man, “there's no magic formula.”

“Tiff will be sorry to hear that,” cracked Rachel. She opened the book and began reading the chapter titles. ‘Making Debt Disappear: The Trick to Budgeting.’ ”

Jess read over her shoulder, “ ‘Pulling Extra Money Out of Your Sleeve.’ Oh, I need that one.”

“Me, too,” said Rachel. “ ‘Who Are You: Learn Your Money Type.’ Ha! That one's easy. I already know my money type: broke.”

“My money type would probably be clueless,” Jess said, reaching for a book.

Rachel shut hers. “I think I'll get this. It looks interesting.”

“This one has my name on it,” said Jess, showing Rachel her find, Weathering Tough Times.

“That one has all our names on it.” Rachel pulled another book off the shelf titled Diva on a Dime. “Here's the perfect one for Tiffany.” She turned the book so Jess could read the title.

Jess gave a snort. “She'll love it.”

“Let's go show her,” said Rachel.

Salon H was a small salon, with only three chairs and Tiffany's manicure/pedicure station. Like all the business establishments in town, hearts were the theme. The mirrors had been specially made to look like artsy hearts, and several glass-blown red, orange, and purple hearts made by a local artist hung in the window. There was always a candle burning on the reception desk—a valiant effort to combat the usual hair salon smell of potions and treatments—and always women chatting in the comfy wingback chairs in the reception area, drinking espresso that Jody the receptionist had made for them.

Tiffany was in the middle of painting Maude Schuller's nails cotton candy pink when Jess and Rachel walked in with their finds.

“It's important to learn to manage your money,” said Maude, assuming she was part of the conversation. “The problem with your generation is that you girls don't know the value of a dollar.”

Tiffany rolled her eyes. “Yeah, we do, Maude. It doesn't have any value.”

“That's for sure,” said Cara, the stylist on duty, who was busy giving a zitty teenage girl a hot new hair look. Today Cara's hair was maroon. Six months earlier it had been raven's-wing black with blue highlights. “You know how much cigarettes cost these days? Not that you should smoke,” she quickly added for her client's benefit.

“A dollar still has value when you know how to stretch it,” Maude insisted. “I was always careful with my money. That's why I can afford to come here and get my nails done. If you're not careful when you're young, you wind up sorry when you're old. I have friends who have to get their food from the food bank because they were foolish when they were younger.”

“I'm going to live with my children anyway,” said Rachel with a grin. “Payback.”

Maude shook her head in reprimand, making her loose jowls jiggle. She waggled a pink-tipped finger at Rachel. “You joke now, but when you're there it's not funny.”

Rachel suddenly didn't look amused.

“Let's see those books,” said Tiffany weakly.

“We got one specially with you in mind,” Rachel told her, and dug the book out of her plastic bag.

Tiffany read the cover and actually smiled. “Diva on a Dime? I like the diva part.”

“We knew you would,” said Rachel. “So start reading. You can give us a book report next month when we meet at my place.”

“We never did decide what we want to make,” said Jess.

“Something cheap,” said Rachel.

“Nothing is cheap,” said Tiffany with a sigh.

“You girls,” Maude said in disgust. “When I was young we made all kinds of things on the cheap: bath salts, friendship tea, Amish friendship bread.”

Tiffany made a face. “Amish what?”

Maude frowned at her. “It's delicious. I have recipes for all those things. I'll give them to you if you like.”

“Uh, sure. Thanks,” said Tiffany, looking anything but thankful.

“People don't know how to be self-sufficient anymore,” Maude said with a frown.

“Hey, I'm self-sufficient,” said Cara, highly offended.

“Oh, I don't mean as far as work goes,” said Maude. “I mean knowing how to grow and preserve your own food and sew your own clothes.”

“I can buy clothes cheaper on sale at the mall,” insisted Tiffany.

Maude ignored her. “We made our cakes and casseroles from scratch, not out of a box. And we made our own syrups and jams. I can tell you, there is nothing like homemade huckleberry jam.” She looked in the direction of the teenager and lowered her voice. “I even have a recipe for blackberry cordial.”

“Cordial, what's that?” asked Tiffany.

“Booze,” Rachel explained.

“Now that's something I wouldn't mind learning how to make,” Jess said with a smile. “We'll take it.”

“If you girls like, I'll also give you some of my rhubarb to plant,” Maude offered. “You can make all kinds of things from rhubarb.”

“Free food? We'll take it,” said Rachel. “And any other recipes you want to share. Maybe I'll do an Internet search and find a bunch of recipes we can make out of all this free food we're going to scrounge. As soon as school's out I'm going to have nothing to do but job hunt and worry anyway.”

“You girls,” Maude began with another shake of her faux strawberry blonde head.

“Had better be going,” Jess said, edging away.

“See you later,” Rachel added, following her.

Once they were outside, Jess turned to Rachel. “That woman creeps me out. She's like the ghost of Finance Future, all gloom and doom.”

“And free rhubarb,” Rachel reminded her. “Don't forget the free rhubarb.”

“I can guarantee you it won't be free,” said Jess. “We'll have to pay by listening to more charming tales of all her friends who whooped it up instead of saving and are now eating dog food. That hits a little too close to the bone for me.”

“She did paint a grim picture,” Rachel agreed. “I sure don't want to end up a broke old lady.”

“Well, we're not there yet. We still have time to get our act together,” Jess assured them both.

“I'm not wasting any,” said Rachel. “I'm going to start reading my book tonight. With the kids at Aaron's I don't have anything else to do anyway.”

“You need a man,” Jess told her.

“Like I need cancer. I'll stick with my book and a good glass of wine.”

Jess didn't push it. She couldn't blame Rachel for being in no hurry to add a new man to her life. Maybe someday she'd be willing to risk her heart again, but probably not anytime soon. It was too bad, really. It was hard to cope with hard times even when you had the support of a good husband. Jess couldn't imagine being in Rachel's shoes and having to do it all alone.

Except she wasn't alone. She had her friends. They'd get through this all somehow. Together.

Tiffany sent Maude on her way with shiny, pink fingernails and checked the salon clock. She still had fifteen minutes before her next client, so after cleaning up she plopped down in her chair and began to thumb through her new book.

If you're reading this book, let me congratulate you on your excellent taste, wrote Rebecca Worth, the author. You are obviously a woman who is creative, and a little creativity is all you really need to live a fabulous life.

That and a credit card, thought Tiffany.

Stay with me through these pages and I'll give you all kinds of tips for squeezing every bit of fun and glamour out of a dollar that you possibly can. I am living proof that any woman can live like a diva on a dime.

Tiffany was up for that. She flipped through the pages to the chapter titled “Looking Great for Next to Nothing.” Consignment stores are the way to go, claimed Rebecca. Did you know that you can outfit yourself in designer clothes for secondhand prices?

As if.

Cara had finished with her teenage hair makeover now and the girl waltzed out the door, obviously feeling like a million bucks. The girl had paid more than a dime for that haircut. If you wanted to look really good you had to be willing to spend money.

What did this diva chick look like? Tiffany turned to the back of the book and checked out the author photo. Okay, she had to admit the woman looked pretty glam, but if the diva on a dime had really gotten those clothes at a consignment store Tiffany would eat her acrylic nails.

She flipped back to the chapter and read on. Everything I'm wearing in my photo on the back of this book I got at consignment stores … right down to my bra—Victoria's Secret, I'll have you know.

Shut up. Tiffany studied the picture again, giving a lock of her blonde hair a thoughtful twirl. This woman had to be right around the corner from the New York garment district. You wouldn't find anything like that around Heart Lake.

Tiffany read on. Get your nails and hair done at votech schools for a song, said the diva on a dime.

Tiffany dropped the book like it was a hot potato. If women listened to that kind of advice and went to vocational schools they would be missing out on getting top-notch beauty care. And she and Cara would be standing at the freeway exit, begging for money.

Tiffany didn't want to read on, but morbid curiosity got the best of her and she picked the book up again and turned the page. The first thing she saw was the heading “The Truth About Tiaras.” That got her attention.

Most jewelry stores have a huge markup. It can run as high as one hundred percent. You'll save a bundle if you buy your jewelry from direct importers or wholesalers who don't have the high overhead. Okay, now that was valuable information. Negotiate, advised the diva. A jewelry store may not be able to match the price you found at, say, a wholesale site on the Internet, but trust me, they can come down some.

Tiffany probably wasn't going to be able to afford any new bling until she was ninety-nine, if then, but this was good information all the same. Okay, maybe there was something to this diva on a dime stuff. Tiffany's next client came through the door, so she had to set the book aside. As she did, she couldn't help wondering if some jeweler somewhere was reading a copy of this book and having the same reaction she'd had over the thought of discount manicures.

She heaved a sigh. Tough times affected everyone, both businesses trying to keep their doors open and people trying to keep a roof over their heads. A girl did what a girl had to do, including finding affordable beauty treatments. Still, she was glad there was no votech school near Heart Lake.

No wholesale jewelers, either. That was probably just as well.