“No, it was Barsky. B-A-R-S—never mind. Just a memory. It’s not important.”
“All our memories are important. You should hang on to them as long as you can, don’t you think?”
Boop knew Maureen was right. But that wasn’t why she was there.
“Why don’t you ask your daughter-in-law to bring you some different clothes? Wouldn’t you like to get out of that housecoat? I’m sure you have something at home that looks less like Pepto-Bismol.”
They laughed.
Way back when, before she’d become a bride and a housewife and a mother, Boop had wanted to share her passion and knowledge of clothes and makeup with others. In her younger imagination, she’d heard the click of high heels and the ping of a typewriter. In reality she heard shuffling slippers and institutional televisions with volumes turned up.
Fashion had always been a source of camaraderie and happiness for Boop, and she’d always believed it would bring others joy as well.
Better here and now than never.
The next day was manicure day.
Boop stepped out of Georgia’s room and looked down the hall. She saw no one except Mr. Marco with the walker he called Lucille.
“I hope nothing happened to Natalie,” Boop whispered. She sat on the chair she’d come to think of as “hers,” where she’d left a cardigan hanging over the back in case of a chill. “She’s always on time.”
“I’m here!” Natalie barreled into the room and strode right to the edge of Georgia’s bed. “I’m sorry I’m late. It’s not professional. It’s just that Piper came home a day early, which is great because I get to see her, but I’m finalizing the program for the pageant and working on the schedule for that day, which is taking more time than I’d thought.”
“How can I help?” Boop asked. “Stuff envelopes? Yell at someone?”
Natalie chuckled, then blushed the color of pink peonies. “Would you consider being onstage to crown the new Miss South Haven?”
Boop stared at Natalie, and Georgia stared at Boop. Onstage at a Miss South Haven pageant? Boop wasn’t sure she could do that.
“There must be someone better than me. A local celebrity? The mayor?”
“I think you’re the local celebrity,” Georgia said. “If you want to be.”
“Think about it,” Natalie said. “The last Miss South Haven crowning the current one. I think it would be perfect. And selfishly I could go out with a splash.”
“What does that mean?” Boop asked.
“I just had another meeting with my accountant. It looks like this will be the last summer for the salon.” Natalie pushed her wavy black hair away from her round face, eyes glimmering with tears.
Boop unzipped Natalie’s case and pulled out a shimmery champagne nail polish for Georgia. She shook the bottle and then handed it to Natalie. “What happened?”
“I don’t really have enough business to pay rent on the shop and the apartment between October and May. And the projections for the rest of the summer won’t be enough to make up for it. Last year it was close, but I made it. I really don’t want to uproot Piper before her sophomore year, but kids are resilient, right?”
“Are there any other options? It can’t be so black and white,” Georgia said.
She was right. The problem was green.
“I’ll have to get a job but after I sell the furniture and equipment, I should be okay for a few months, and my parents will help a little. The most important thing is that Piper have stability. If it was just me I could live anywhere. On a friend’s couch, in the back of the salon, but not with Piper. She needs a home.”
“You’re her home,” Boop said. “But I have an idea.” She whispered to Georgia. Georgia whispered back.
“Move in with us,” they said in unison.
“What?” Natalie screeched.
“Move. In. With. Us,” Georgia said, as if Natalie hadn’t understood the words.
“I have plenty of room,” Boop said.
“Have you seen that rambling old house?” Georgia asked. “You’d be doing Boop a favor. Both of us, actually. I’m moving in with her for a while.”
“You barely know me. And I have a teenager.” Natalie gulped. “Why would you do this?”
Boop had wanted a full house again; now she would have it. “I like you. I always have. You’re kind and generous; you’re a single mom who needs a break, and teenagers don’t scare me.”
San Diego would have to wait.
Natalie’s eyes welled with tears as she filed Georgia’s nails. “You’re a lifesaver.” She coughed as her voice cracked with sadness and gratitude. “But are you sure you don’t mind helping us out?”
“Will you mind helping us?” Boop asked. “We’re two old ladies who are pretty feisty.”
Natalie laughed as she wiped away tears and streaks of mascara. “Of course not,” she said. “That’s what friends are for.”
Chapter 24
BETTY
The lightweight bedspread pressed on Betty’s legs as if she’d had her limbs buried under sand. She folded back the pink blanket and saw that her shoes and hose had been removed. She sat upright. How did she get here? Why did her head hurt? “I’m fine.”
She knew she wasn’t fine but that was what you said.
Nannie pushed gently on her shoulder, and Betty lay down again. “Forget about the fact that you knocked over half the girls and ran off the stage; you vomited, and you fainted. Heatstroke maybe. Exhaustion, definitely.” Nannie fancied herself a superlative diagnostician. “Dr. Silver’s on his way.”
“I don’t need a doctor; I need Abe.” Please don’t send a doctor. Nancy Green’s words reverberated in her head. If Nancy was right—no. Nancy just wanted to believe that. But why wish that on anyone? “Please, just get Abe. I need to talk to him.”
Nannie shook her head.
“What do you mean, no? Where’s Abe? Didn’t he follow us back to the house?”
“He’s not here, dear, he was never here.”
“I don’t believe you. I heard his voice when I was running to the beach.”
“He’s back home with his family, in Detroit, remember?”
“He didn’t come back?” What had Betty heard? Had his voice
