Debbie Macomber – Blossom Street Bundle (страница 42)

“That’s my business.” Alix’s eyes flared to life as if she’d welcome a verbal confrontation.

“Man trouble if I’ve ever seen it,” Jacqueline announced to Lydia, who grinned slightly and nodded in agreement.

Alix’s mouth thinned but she didn’t take the bait.

“My guess is it involves that minister you’re dating.”

“We weren’t dating…. We were just friends.”

“Past tense?” Lydia pried gently. “You aren’t seeing him anymore?”

“I haven’t seen him in a while. He’s got more than one friend, if you know what I mean.”

“You saw him with someone else,” Jacqueline guessed.

Alix’s head was so low her chin sank into her chest when she nodded.

“Someone pretty,” she mumbled. “And blond.” The girl in church.

“Naturally,” Jacqueline added. She’d always imagined that Reese’s mistress was blond, and regarded with suspicion any blonde who came near him. Not that she cared, she told herself, but Jacqueline had to admit she occasionally wondered what the woman looked like. At the same time, she didn’t want to know. In fact, she usually tried not to think about her at all.

Jacqueline’s marriage, what was left of it, had been strained since the night Reese had walked out on their dinner. She hadn’t forgiven him; more than that, she’d avoided him.

Reese hadn’t made any effort to bridge the gap, either. Apparently, finding his roses stuffed in the garbage the next morning had been message enough.

The three of them sat knitting together in silence. Lydia had to put her own knitting aside twice to help customers, and that left Jacqueline alone with Alix.

Jacqueline wasn’t sure what prompted the idea, but once it took hold in her mind, it refused to leave.

“I owe you a favor,” she announced with some fanfare.

“For what?”

Jacqueline was astonished that Alix had forgotten. “Dear girl, you might very well have saved my life.”

A hint of a smile came and then quickly vanished. Alix shrugged as if her stepping into the alley that day and standing up to those hoodlums was just a routine incident. An ordinary, everyday event.

“It’s time I repaid your kindness,” she said decisively.

Alix was plainly curious. “How?”

“I think,” Jacqueline said with flair, “that we’ll go for a complete makeover. My treat, naturally.”

“A what?”

“A beauty treatment.”

Alix frowned. “What good’s that going to do?”

“It might get you noticed by a certain young man.”

“What kind of beauty treatment?” Alix tried to disguise her interest, but she didn’t fool Jacqueline.

“We’d start with your hair.” Jacqueline examined the purple-tinted ends with a critical eye and resisted the urge to cringe. That dreadful color had to go. Motioning with her hand, she offered a few suggestions. “Get it cut and styled. Perhaps dye it a different color.”

“Only if I like it,” the girl said warily.

“Of course!”

“Any color I want?”

“Within reason.”

Alix made a careless movement with her shoulders. “I suppose that would be all right.” She acted as if she was doing Jacqueline a favor. Two months ago Jacqueline would have taken offense at that but now she knew it was simply posturing.

“I’d like to take you to my fashion consultant and—”

Alix was shaking her head even before Jacqueline had finished the sentence. “I don’t need any advice on how to dress.”

“Whatever you say, but I do think we should get you a couple of new outfits.”

Still Alix hesitated, but then she gave a halfhearted nod. “Your treat?”

“Of course.”

“I guess it’s okay. When do you want to do this?” She asked as if her social calendar was full.

“Soon.” Jacqueline set aside her knitting and retrieved her cell phone. “I’ll call Desiree right now. She’s the best hairdresser in town. It sometimes takes weeks to get an appointment.”

“Okay.” Alix couldn’t hide her eagerness now. She sat up straight, nibbling on her lower lip.

“I need an appointment with Desiree ASAP,” Jacqueline said, hoping the receptionist caught the hint of urgency in her voice. Desiree was a top beautician and the prices she charged were enough to perm Jacqueline’s hair without chemicals. Still, she was worth every penny because of the miracles she performed. All the women at the country club went to her, and if they didn’t, they wanted to.

Jacqueline waited impatiently while the receptionist put her on hold. It seemed forever before she returned. “Desiree says she’ll stay late this evening if you can be here by four-thirty.”

“Four-thirty?” She glanced at Alix, who nodded. “We’ll be there,” Jacqueline crowed triumphantly. She turned off the cell and placed it inside her purse. She felt certain that Alix didn’t realize her good fortune. Jacqueline had to book her haircuts a month in advance.

Lydia was back, and although she hadn’t heard a lot of the conversation, she seemed to understand what was happening and nodded in approval. Jacqueline was on a mission now, confident that with a change in wardrobe and a decent haircut she could turn Alix into an attractive young woman. A thrill of excitement went through her. This was going to be fun.

As soon as the knitting session was over, Jacqueline took Alix to Nordstrom for a new outfit. She purchased her own designer clothes at the Seattle-based department store, where one particular sales clerk had been in charge of Jacqueline’s wardrobe for years.

Victoria took one look at Alix and immediately went to work. Jacqueline accompanied the girl into the dressing room and was shocked at her lack of proper intimate apparel. She insisted on new bras and panties first, and none of those ridiculous and indecent thongs, either.

Alix made a fuss, but it didn’t last long. Still, while Jacqueline might have won that battle, Alix was the undisputed victor when it came to the war. She refused to even try on the St. John knitted suit or anything else Victoria delivered.

Considering the limited time available today, Jacqueline had to be content with buying Alix good-quality underwear. Before she was through, she swore she’d get her into something tasteful.

Unfortunately, the trip to the hairdresser didn’t go much better. Desiree gasped at Alix’s purple-tinged hair and started swearing in French. Even after years of high school and college French classes, Jacqueline couldn’t understand what the woman said. But judging by the tone of her remarks, it was preferable not to attempt a translation.

Jacqueline sat in the waiting area and sipped coffee while a verbal skirmish occurred in the background. Fortunately, most of the shop’s elite clientele had already departed; otherwise, their ears would’ve been assaulted by the ongoing exchange between Alix and Desiree.

Ninety minutes after they arrived, Alix flew to the front of the salon as if she’d just been released from prison. Jacqueline hardly recognized her. Gone was the tar-black hair with the eggplant-purple highlights. Instead, Alix’s hair was a soft shade of brown with a reddish tinge that was similar to the yarn she’d chosen for Paul’s scarf.

“Alix,” she said, coming to her feet. Once again, Desiree had performed a miracle. Not only had she colored Alix’s hair but she’d styled it in a froth of curls.

“I hate it,” the girl cried as she ran her fingers through her hair, disarranging it. “This isn’t me.”

“No, my dear,” Jacqueline said patiently, “this is a new you.”

For a moment it seemed Alix was about to burst into tears. “I look like … like one of the Brady Bunch,” she moaned.

“You look lovely.”

“Greg,” she cried. “I look like Greg from the Brady Bunch.”

“You’re being silly,” Jacqueline said sharply.

“I’m not! Everyone’s going to laugh at me.”

The girl was making absolutely no sense. “I’m sure you’re wrong.”

“I know you meant well, but this just isn’t me…. It just isn’t me.”

Without a word of gratitude, Alix stormed out of the salon, leaving Jacqueline speechless.

“Where did you ever meet such a girl?” Desiree asked, shaking her head.

“It’s a long story,” Jacqueline murmured, discouraged now. She’d wanted to do something nice for Alix, something kind to show her appreciation, and she’d failed.