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The scissors abruptly stopped clipping. “You ain’t heard?”
“About what?”
Lurlene leaned down in a cloud of rose-scented perfume. “Kathy died about eight months ago. ”
Annie opened her eyes. A pale, chalky woman with hacked-off hair stared back at her from the oval mirror. She slammed her eyes shut again. When she found her voice, it was thin and soft. “What—”
“I been helpin’ out as much as I can—baby-sittin’ an’ such, but that child of his, Isabella, well . . . she just ain’t right in the head anymore. Got herself kicked out of school yesterday. Can you imagine that? A six-year-old gettin’ kicked outta school? Just what’re they thinkin’, I ask you? They all know about her mama. You’d think a little pity’d be in order. Nick’s been lookin’ for a nanny, but he finds fault with everyone I send him. ”
“How did it happen?” Annie’s voice was a whisper.
“Just called her into the principal’s office and said, kiddo you’re outta school. ” Lurlene made a tsking sound. “That child don’t need to get rejected again. What she needs is a daddy. ’Course a rabbit’s a better parent than he is right now—and they eat their young. I wish I could do more for ’em, but Buddy—that’s my husband—he says he raised his kids, all five of ’em, with his ex-wife, Eartha— you know her? She lives down around Forks. Anyway, Buddy don’t want to go through that again, not marryin’ Eartha, I mean, but raisin’ kids. And I’ve never had kids, what do I know about it? I mean, I can give her a durn fine cut and perm, and even paint her little nails, but I don’t know about much else. I don’t mind watchin’ her after school—she’s actuall
y quite a help around the place—but she scares me, if the truth be told, what with her problems and all. ”
It was all coming at Annie so fast. She couldn’t make herself really comprehend it. Kathy.
How could Kathy be dead? Only yesterday they’d been best friends, playing together in the schoolyard at recess in elementary school, giggling about boys in junior high, and double dating in high school. They had been friends in the way that only girls can be—they wore each other’s clothes and slept at each other’s houses and told each other every little secret. They promised to always stay friends.
But they hadn’t taken the time and energy to stay in touch when their lives went down separate roads . . . and now Kathy was gone. Annie hadn’t meant to forget Kathy. But she had, and that’s what mattered now. She had gone to Stanford, met Blake, and exchanged the past for a future.
“Nicky’s fallin’ apart, pure and simple,” Lurlene said, snapping a big bubble of gum. “Him and Kathy bought the old Beauregard house on Mystic Lake—”
The Beauregard house. An image of it came to Annie, wrapped up in the tissue-thin paper of bittersweet memories. “I know it. But you still haven’t told me how Kath—”
The hair dryer blasted to life, drowning out Annie’s question. She thought she heard Lurlene still talking, but she couldn’t make out the words. Then, after a few minutes, the dryer clicked off. Lurlene set the scissors down with a hard click on the white porcelain tile counter.
“Lordie, you do look fine,” Lurlene squeezed her on the shoulder. “Open your eyes, honey, and take yourself a peek. ”
Annie opened her eyes and saw a stranger in the mirror. Her brown hair was so short there was no curl left. The pixie cut emphasized her drawn, pale skin, and made her green eyes look haunted and too large for the fine-boned features of her face. Without lipstick, her unsmiling mouth was a colorless white line. She looked like Kate Moss at fifty—after a lawn-mower attack. “Oh, my God . . . ”
Lurlene nodded at her in the mirror, grinning like one of those dogs that sit in the back windows of cars. “You look just like that young gal that nabbed Warren Beatty. You know who I mean—the one from The American President. ”
“Annette Bening,” said one of the ladies across the room.
Lurlene reached for her camera, a disposable. “I gotta get me a picture of this. I’ll send it in to Modern Do magazine. I’ll win that trip to Reno for sure. ” She hunkered down in front of Annie. “Smile. ”
Before Annie could think, Lurlene popped the photo and straightened, chewing on the scarlet tip of her acrylic nail. “I’ll bet there ain’t a hundred women in the world who can do justice to that haircut, honey, but you’re one of them. ”
All Annie wanted was to get out of this room without crying. It’ll be all right. It’ll grow back, she told herself, but all she could think about was Blake, and what he would say about what she’d done when— if—he came back to her. Shakily, she reached for her handbag. “How much do I owe you?”
“Nothin’, honey. We’ve all had bad weeks. ”
Annie turned to Lurlene. In the woman’s heavily mascaraed eyes, there was real, honest-to-God understanding.
If she hadn’t felt so sick, Annie might have managed a smile. “Thanks, Lurlene. Maybe I can return the favor sometime. ”
Lurlene’s painted face cracked into a toothy grin. “Why, honey, this here’s Mystic. You hang around long enough and a favor’s gonna come beggin’. ” She bent down and grabbed a big green fishing tackle box from the corner. It hit the tile counter with a clatter and the lid snapped open. Inside was enough makeup to turn Robin Williams into Courtney Love. Lurlene grinned. “Now, are you ready for your makeover?”
Annie gasped. She could picture it—her face with more color than a Benjamin Moore paint wheel. “N-No thanks, I’m in a rush. ” She popped to her feet and backed away from the chair.
“But, but—I was gonna make you look like—”
Annie mumbled a hurried thank you and ran for the door. She escaped into her rented Mustang and cranked up the engine, barreling out of the driveway in a spray of gravel and a cloud of smoke. She made it almost a mile before she felt the sting of tears.
It wasn’t until almost fifteen minutes later, as she drove past the corner of the World-of-Wonders putt-putt golf course, with her hands white-knuckled around the steering wheel and tears leaking down her cheeks, that she remembered the question that had been left unanswered.
What had happened to Kathy?
