Day By Day. Delia Parr
to get through it.
When Madge arrived a few minutes later, promptly at nine o’clock, Judy greeted her with a smile and a bear hug. “I’ve missed you.”
Madge returned the hug, stepped back and grimaced. “I’ve missed you, too, but I’m afraid my hair has missed you even more. I was going to borrow that special conditioner you gave me for Andrea when she was getting chemo, but she’d used it all up and neither one of us could remember the name of it.”
“No problem. Andrea’s still doing well?”
Madge smiled. “It’s been two years now, and she’s still cancer-free, thankfully.”
Judy inspected Madge’s blond, shoulder-length hair and grinned. “Sun and salt air might be your nightmare, but they’re a hairdresser’s best friend. Don’t worry. I’ve got some of the conditioner. I’ll use it today and send you home with some, but we’ll have to snip off those split ends first.”
Madge shrugged. “Getting my hair cut is a small price to pay for being able to rent a place for a month at the shore with my sisters. Jenny and the girls were able to stay for the whole time, and Andrea even managed to get down for a few days each week. What a great month!”
An only child, Judy shook her head and wished she had had a sister or two like Madge. Judy had not had a single day off the entire summer, either. Not since Brian had arrived. “Go on back. I’ll give you a good wash, then we’ll see about taking care of those split ends.”
Within moments, she had Madge freshly shampooed and settled into the chair at her station, and she had a tube of conditioner on the counter for Madge to take home. Judy rearranged the plastic drape to protect Madge’s lavender outfit and started to comb her hair free of snags. “We’ll have you looking perky again in no time,” she assured her.
Madge chuckled. “Now that Sarah is in school, maybe I’ll have a little more time to get perky and help Russell at the store, too.”
“Business is still good?” Judy asked and wondered how or why anyone would buy the gourmet food or expensive trinkets for cats, all available at Russell’s store.
“At the Purrple Palace? It’s going perfectly,” Madge teased. “I’m so pleased for Russell. He’s worked hard to make the store a success.”
“And Sarah. Is she is still attending the preschool program?”
“She turned five in the spring, so she’s in full-day kindergarten. Remember when my boys and your Candy started school? They had half-day kindergarten sessions back then. That’s all changed now, I suppose to accommodate so many working mothers.”
Judy’s hands stilled as memories of her daughter surfaced. When Candy started school, Judy was young and hopeful, with her husband, Frank, at her side. Now he was gone, and Candy was somewhere in California battling her addiction again.
Madge pointed to the photograph Judy had taped to her mirror. “Is that your grandson?”
Judy looked into the mirror and locked her gaze with Madge’s. Although they were very close in age, the two women looked very different. Madge wore her years well. She had a deft hand with her makeup and both the time and the money to make sure her hair was colored well and styled fashionably. Like the proverbial shoemaker’s son who had no shoes, Judy had little time for her own hair. She wore it short and shaggy now, and her gray roots reminded her she was long overdue for a color touchup. Struck by the difference between them, as well as Madge’s question, she took a deep breath and turned her attention back to Madge’s hair. “Yes. He’s in first grade. You’ve been away, so I guess you haven’t heard. Brian’s staying with me…for a while longer.”
Madge frowned. “I thought I’d heard he was only going to be with you for the summer and that he’d be going back to school in California.”
Judy took another deep breath. “Candy’s not well,” she whispered, relying once again on the euphemism she had used for so many years now, although Madge knew all too well that Candy had been battling drug addiction for most of her life. Madge had been there through Candy’s rebellious high school years, her unfortunate marriage, and the scene at Frank’s funeral four years ago that had changed the rift between mother and daughter from temporary to permanent, at least as far as Candy was concerned. Judy glanced up and looked into the mirror again, half expecting to see her broken heart staring back at her, along with Madge’s sympathy.
“I’m so sorry,” Madge murmured.
Judy blinked back tears. “Me, too. For the past few years, I thought not knowing how she was doing was bad, but not knowing where she is now is even worse. Brian’s only six, but he asks questions about his mother and his father that I can’t answer.”
Madge nodded. “Sarah’s had questions, too. She was three when we adopted her, but she still asks me to find her mommy for her. Death isn’t a concept she understands yet, I’m afraid.”
Judy swallowed hard and started trimming off the split ends. “I think I could handle explaining Candy’s death to Brian a lot easier than trying to explain why his mommy doesn’t come for him when she’s still alive. I’ve told him how sick she is. Unfortunately, he knows that, too, but he’s so young. He doesn’t understand drug addiction any more than I do, and I’m afraid he’s seen a lot of things he shouldn’t have.”
“At our age, raising a child isn’t easy,” Madge murmured.
“What about Brian’s father? Isn’t he able to take care of him?”
Judy snipped another section of hair and let her hand drop. “Duke?” She snorted. “Would you believe he drove that child cross-country on a motorcycle? Then he waited with him on my front porch until I got home from work, handed me an envelope with some legal papers making me Brian’s guardian and cycled off into the sunset all by his lonesome.”
“He didn’t!”
Judy cocked her head and studied Madge’s hair. Satisfied with the trim, she worked some conditioner through the sun-damaged strands of hair. “He sure enough did. I’m trying really hard, but raising Brian is a whole lot harder than raising Candy.” She sighed. “Or maybe I’m just a little bit older than I was back then, and now I don’t have Frank to help me. But at least school’s in session now, and I don’t have to pay a sitter while I’m working. They have an after-school program, too, so I can pick him up at six o’clock. That helps.”
Madge did not respond for several minutes. When Judy picked up her blow-dryer, Madge gripped the end of the dryer and held on to it. “We adopted Sarah, so our situations are different. I know that. But I have a friend who is going through the same thing as you are, raising her grandchildren. She’s in her fifties, too, like we are. I’m sure you know Barbara Montgomery, don’t you?”
“Not very well. Her granddaughters are in Brian’s class, though. She’s Ann’s customer. Owns Grandmother’s Kitchen on Antiques Row at the other end of town. It’s so sad about what happened to her son, but she hasn’t been in to the salon to have Ann do her hair since the funeral, and I haven’t seen her at school much, either.”
“It’s a tragedy. A true tragedy, especially for the twins.” She sighed. “Poor babies. First their mother runs off and disappears. Then they lose their daddy in a senseless crime,” she murmured as she shook her head. “I’m really worried about Barbara, too. Between losing Steve, raising the girls, running her shop, dealing with the stress of the continuing police investigation and praying they find the monster responsible for Steve’s death, she’s having a rough time all around,” Madge whispered.
Judy toyed with the cord on the dryer. “To be honest, I’ve been so busy with Brian and work all summer, I haven’t had much time to myself,” she murmured.
Madge smiled and let go of the dryer. “Maybe you and Barbara should get together. You have a lot in common, with both of you raising grandchildren. It might help.”
“You might be right,” Judy