ponytail. Delaney had been uptight, her blond hair perfectly curled. Lisa had been a free spirit. Delaney had been a spirit longing to be free. They’d loved the same music and movies, and they’d loved to argue like sisters for hours. The two had balanced each other out.
After Lisa had graduated from high school, she’d received her degree in interior design. She’d lived in Boise for eight years, employed at a design firm where she’d done all the work and received none of the credit. Two years ago she’d quit and moved back to Truly. Now, thanks to computers and modems, she operated a busy design business from her home.
Delaney’s gaze took in her friend’s pretty face and disheveled ponytail. Lisa was smart and attractive, but Delaney still had the better hair. If she were staying in town longer, she’d grab her friend and cut her hair to accent her eyes, then maybe brush a few light streaks around her face.
“Your mother tells me you’re a makeup artist down in Scottsdale. She said you have celebrity clients.”
Delaney wasn’t surprised by her mother’s embellishment and took a sip of her margarita. Gwen hated Delaney’s career, perhaps because it reminded her mother of their life before Henry-the life Delaney had never been allowed to talk about, when Gwen had styled hair for dancers on the Vegas strip. But Delaney was nothing like her mother. She loved working in a salon. It had taken years to finally discover her niche. She loved the tactile sensations, the smell of Paul Mitchell, and the gratification of a pleased client. And it didn’t hurt that she was extremely good. “I’m a hairstylist in a salon in Scottsdale, but I live in Phoenix,” she said and licked the salt from her top lip. “I love it, but my mother is embarrassed by what I do for a living. You’d think I was a hooker or something.” She shrugged. “I don’t do makeup because of the hours, but I did trim Ed McMahon’s hair once.”
“You’re a beautician?” Lisa laughed. “This is too good. Helen Markham has a salon over on Fireweed Lane.”
“You’re kidding? I saw Helen yesterday. Her hair looked like shit.”
“I didn’t say she was any good at it.”
“Well, I am,” Delaney said, having found something at last that she was a lot better at than her old rival.
A waitress approached and set two more margaritas on the table. “That gentleman over there,” the woman said, pointing toward the bar, “bought you two another round.”
Delaney glanced at the man she recognized as one of Henry’s friends. “Tell him thank you,” she said and watched as the waitress left. She hadn’t bought a drink since she’d stepped foot in Mort’s. Men she vaguely remembered from her youth kept a steady supply of booze coming to her table. She was on her third, and if she weren’t careful, she’d be drunk in no time.
“Remember when you caught Helen and Tommy doing it in the back of his mother’s Vista Cruiser?” Lisa asked, beginning to look a little glassy-eyed.
“Of course I remember. He’d told me he was going to the drive-in with some friends.” She drained one glass and reached for the third. “I decided to surprise him. And I did.”
Lisa laughed and downed her drink. “That was so funny.”
Delaney’s laughter joined her friend’s. “Not at the time though. Having Helen Schnupp, of all girls, steal my first boyfriend sucked.”
“Yeah, but she did you a favor. Tommy has turned into a real bum. He only works long enough to collect unemployment. He has two kids, and Helen supports them most of the time.”
“How does he look?” Delaney asked, cutting to the important stuff.
“Still good-lookin‘.”
“Damn.” She’d hoped for a report of a receding hairline at the very least. “Who was that friend of Tommy’s? Do you remember? He always wore that John Deere baseball cap, and you had a mad crush on him.”
A frown appeared between Lisa’s brows. “Jim Bushyhead.”
Delaney snapped her fingers. “That’s right. You dated him for a while, but he dumped you for that girl with the mustache and big boobs.”
“Tina Uberanga. She was Basque
“I remember you were madly in love with him for a long time after he dumped you.”
“No, I wasn’t.”
“Yes, you were. We used to have to drive by his house at least five times a day.”
“No way.”
Two more drinks appeared, provided by another of Henry’s associates. Delaney waved her thanks and turned back to her friend. They resumed their gossip over a steady stream of free margaritas. At nine-thirty Delaney glanced at her watch. She’d lost count of her drinks, and her cheeks were beginning to feel a little numb. “I don’t suppose Truly has a taxi service these days.” If she cut herself off now, she’d have over three hours to sober up before the bar closed and she had to drive home.
“Nope. We finally got a gas station with a mini-mart. But it closes at eleven.” She pointed a finger at Delaney and said, “You don’t know how lucky you are to live in a city with a Circle K. You can’t just grab a box of Ding Dongs or a burrito at two in the morning around here.”
“Are you drunk?”
Lisa leaned forward and confessed, “Yes, and guess what else? I’m getting married.”
“What?” Delaney sputtered. “You’re getting married and you waited all this time to tell me?”
“Well, we’re not telling anyone for a while. He wants to talk to his daughter first, before it’s common knowledge. But she’s in Washington with her mother until next week.”
“Who? Who’s the lucky guy?”
Lisa looked her straight in the eyes and said, “Louie Allegrezza.”
Delaney blinked several times then burst into laughter. “That’s a good one.”
“I’m serious.”
“Crazy Louie.” She continued to laugh as she shook her head. “You’ve got to be pulling my leg.”
“I’m not. We’ve been seeing each other for eight months. Last week he asked me to marry him, and of course I said yes. We’re getting married November fifteenth.”
“Nick’s brother?” Her laughter died. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“Very, but we can’t tell anyone until he talks to Sophie.”
“Sophie?”
“His daughter from his first wife. Sophie’s thirteen and a real daddy’s girl. He thinks if he tells her when she gets back, she’ll have almost six months to get used to the idea.”
“Crazy Louie,” Delaney repeated, stunned. “Isn’t he doing time in prison?”
“No. He doesn’t do crazy things anymore.” She paused and shook her head. “Besides, he was never really
Delaney wondered if her friend had fallen on her head in the past ten years and suffered memory loss. “Lisa, he stole a car in the fifth grade.”
“No. We were in the fifth grade. He was in the ninth, and in all fairness, he was on his way to take it back when he hopped the curb and got high-centered on that bench in front of Value Drug.” Lisa shrugged. “He might not have even gotten caught if he hadn’t swerved to miss the Olsens’ dog, Buckey.”
Delaney blinked to clear her head. “Are you blaming Buckey?”
“That dog always did run loose.”
All dogs ran loose in Truly. “I can’t believe you’re blaming poor Buckey? You must be in love.”
Lisa smiled. “I am. Haven’t you ever felt so in love you wanted to crawl inside a man’s skin and stay there?”
“A few times,” Delaney confessed, feeling a little envious of her friend. “But I got over it after a while.”
“Too bad you live so far away, I’d ask you to be in my wedding. Remember how we were always going to be each other’s maid of honor?”
“Yeah.” Delaney sighed. “I was going to marry Jon Cryer and you were going to marry Andrew McCarthy.”
“
“At least a hundred. Remember when-” she began but the bartender’s voice interrupted her.
“Last call,” he bellowed.
Delaney checked her watch again. “Last call? It’s not even ten.”
