“Need some help with your hair? We’ve got thirty minutes before the Belles arrive, and I’m antsy,” Jennie Sue asked.
“I’d love help, but you’re always so cool and collected. I can’t even begin to imagine you nervous,” Cricket said.
“Those women are going to try to make me join their club. It’s written in the charter that when a mother passes, her daughter steps up to take her place. I’ll get the curling iron from my room and be right back.”
For years Cricket had wondered what it would be like to be in the circle that Jennie Sue ran in. To be invited to slumber parties where they’d all fix one another’s hair and do makeup. Now it was happening, and she wasn’t so sure how she felt about any of it. Maybe it was because she and Jennie Sue were both twenty-eight. All that high school popularity didn’t matter anymore.
“Got it.” Jennie Sue plugged the iron into the wall and laid it on the vanity. “Have a seat in front of the mirror.”
Cricket sat down and sighed at her reflection. She should just pull her hair up into a ponytail. It didn’t matter if she was a wallflower that evening—this wasn’t about her. It was about helping Jennie Sue get through the whole night with a bunch of people that she wasn’t comfortable around. “Why don’t you want to join the Belles? Your mama would want you to carry on her legacy.”
While the curling iron heated up, Jennie Sue ran a brush through Cricket’s hair. “Yes, she would. Just like my grandmother expected Mama to fill her shoes. But I’m just not Belle material. I might have been ten years ago or even six years ago, but not now. I’ve got an idea—you can join the Belles in my place.”
“Not me. Those women intimidate me,” Cricket laughed. “Look at us bein’ good enough friends that you are offerin’ me your place on the Sweetwater Belles.”
“Honey, that probably means that we are what they call frenemies these days. I was teasin’. I would only wish that on my worst enemy.” Jennie Sue laid the brush aside and picked up the curling iron.
“That bad, huh?”
“Worse.” Jennie Sue shivered. “Big bouncy curls or straight?”
“What?”
“Your hair? How do you want it?”
“Curls.” Cricket felt more than a little guilty about Jennie Sue styling her hair. “I should be fixin’ your hair. How do you do it?”
“What? Fix hair or not fall to pieces right now?”
Cricket pointed at her hair.
“I had to learn. Percy didn’t like the way the beauty shop did it, and it had to be perfect—always—not only when we went out or had an event. He had his good points, but somehow they got lost in his controlling nature.” Jennie Sue tamed Cricket’s hair with a few twists of the curling iron and then twirled the stool around to look at her work. “You have the most unusual shade of green eyes. With just a touch of dark-green eye shadow, they’d pop right out.”
“I’ve always worn blue,” Cricket said. “But I was talkin’ about you takin’ care of everyone else when we should be takin’ care of you.”
“You are takin’ care of me,” Jennie Sue said. “I’d be all alone if you and Rick weren’t stayin’ with me, and if you didn’t let me go to the farm, I’d probably be crazy.” She picked up a palette of eye shadow from the vanity. “Mind if I try green?”
“Not at all.” Cricket couldn’t very well tell her that the reason she’d worn blue since they were in school was because that’s what Jennie Sue wore all the time.
When Jennie Sue finished, she swung her around to face the mirror. “I applied a little blush to your cheeks.”
“Oh. My. Goodness!” Cricket gasped. “I’m almost pretty.”
“You are beautiful with or without makeup.” Jennie Sue flipped one curl forward over Cricket’s shoulder.
Cricket felt the heat rising to her face but could do nothing about it. “I’m just a plain Jane, but you’ve done wonders.”
“You are whatever and whoever your self-confidence allows you to be, Cricket. When you walk into a room, act as if you own the whole house, not just that room. Paste on a smile, even if it’s fake, and never tug at your skirt or mess with your necklace. That shows insecurity,” Jennie Sue said. “That comes straight from my mother on my way to my first Belle meeting when I was sixteen.”
“So the daughters get to go to the meetings?”
Jennie Sue sat down on the end of the bed. “Once a year at Christmas, so that we’d learn the ropes.”
“Did the husbands get to go to the meetings?”
“Nope.” Jennie Sue shook her head, and not a single curl fell out of place. “They were allowed to attend the July Fourth barbecue here at our place, but that was the extent of their participation in the Belles. You got to remember, though, they started the club when women didn’t work and needed women friends so they could bitch and moan about their husbands and relatives.”
“And now?”
“Some of them have jobs, but the bitchin’ and moanin’ stayed the same.”
“Then, no, thank you. I’ll just be a member of the book club at Amos’s store and call that enough. My nerves couldn’t handle all the stuff that goes on to be a Belle,” Cricket said.
“Tell me something. What changed your mind about me?” Jennie Sue asked.
“Lettie and Nadine did. It just took a little while for what they said to soak in. Again, I’m sorry for being rude.”
“So you don’t hate me anymore?”
Cricket shook her head and answered honestly, “Not as much as before.”
Jennie Sue stood up and straightened a simple gold chain around her neck. “Fair enough.”
Cricket rose up off the vanity stool. “Don’t mess with your necklace. It shows that you don’t have self-esteem.”
“Noted.” Jennie Sue nodded and smiled at Cricket echoing her words.
Sugar and Mary Lou arrived first again, each carrying a fancy platter with food. Sugar had cute little chicken-salad sandwiches cut in perfect triangles with the crust removed. Mary Lou brought in iced sugar cookies with a fancy C monogram on each one. They went straight to the dining room, put their offerings on the table, and then turned to have a group hug with Jennie Sue.
“Oh, darlin’, this just breaks our hearts. We’ve done nothing but weep for two whole days. Charlotte was the very center of the Belles, and we don’t know how we’ll be able to go on without her.” Sugar sniffled.
Mary Lou took a step back and kissed her on the cheek. “You will simply have to fill her shoes. I’m sure you know exactly where her scrapbook is, and you’ll keep it up to date. We’ll have an induction ceremony at next month’s meeting. And who is this?” She turned her attention to Cricket.
“My friend Cricket Lawson. She and her brother are staying with me until tomorrow.” Jennie Sue made introductions.
“Are you from New York?” Sugar eyed Cricket from her toes to her hair.
“No, she’s from right here in Bloom. I graduated from high school with her. Y’all might remember her father, Richard Lawson. I believe he went to school with my dad and some of you, and he played basketball,” Jennie Sue answered.
“Nope, the name doesn’t ring a bell,” Mary Lou said. “What’s the matter with your foot?”
“I fell,” Cricket answered. “I’m not sure who’s takin’ care of who, but we’re managing, aren’t we, Jennie Sue?”
“You bet we are. Oh, there’s the doorbell. Excuse me.” Jennie Sue turned to Cricket and said under her breath, “If it gets to be too much, slip out to the porch. There’s a bar out there, too.”
Escaped that, she thought as she took a deep breath and opened the door to find Belinda with her plate of vegetables and dip.
“Oh, Jennie Sue, how are we going to get through this? Charlotte’s such a good friend and a wonderful person and I can’t imagine life without her.” She leaned in to kiss Jennie Sue on the cheek. “Charlotte does—I mean, did—help with so much.” She handed the plate to Jennie Sue and dabbed her eyes with a linen handkerchief. “I just can’t think of her in the past tense.”