Age Before Beauty (2 page)

She pulled her jeans up over her knees. This was the first pair of zippered pants she’d tried to wear since Joanie’s birth, having lived in sweats and oversized T-shirts once she put away the maternity clothes. Wiggling her hips back and forth, she inched them upward. Come on, come on, they had to fit. They were her biggest jeans, stretchy and so loose that she’d worn them all the way up to her fifth month of pregnancy. Just a little farther …

Ugh. She panted from the effort. But at least she’d managed to get them pulled all the way up.

Now the zipper. Suck that gut in. Pull hard. Harder. She hopped up and down, tugging at the waistband. Okay, if the zipper wouldn’t go all the way to the top, it didn’t matter. She’d just wear her shirttail out. Everybody did these days. As long as she could get the button fastened.

There! They fit! She was wearing pre-baby Levis! Well, sort of.

She stepped up to the mirror and bit back a gasp.

The stupid thing had to be warped.

“Hey, look at you all dressed up.” Joan stood on the doorstep, car keys clutched in one hand. “You look great.”

Allie scowled and tried not to think of the jeans she could
almost
wear shoved in the back of her bottom drawer. “These are maternity pants. Nothing else fits.”

“Oh.” Joan’s smile drooped a fraction, then brightened again. “But that’s not a maternity shirt. And turquoise is totally your color.”

Her eyes shifted to a point inside the room, then she practically bowled Allie over as she rushed toward the swing to snatch up the baby. Sighing, Allie closed the door. So much for Joanie’s nap.

Allie tried to ignore a wave of insecurity as she admired her sister’s slim frame, the way her jeans fit without a single bulge. Straight dark hair fell forward to tickle the baby’s face as Joan cooed at her slumbering namesake while she unfastened the safety strap. Soft baby noises answered as little Joanie’s eyelids fluttered open. Allie clasped her hands together to keep from taking the infant from her middle sister’s arms. She was so sweet when she first woke. Tiny fists rose above her head and she kicked her legs out to their full length and arched her back to stretch.

“Look at her! I swear she’s grown an inch since the last time I saw her.”

Allie answered dryly. “I doubt that, since you came over yesterday.” She held her hands out. “Here, let me change her.”

Joan clutched the baby closer. “I’ll do it.”

With a sigh, Allie followed her sister into the nursery. Bright pink daisies on fields of green bordered the white walls and also decorated lacy curtains and crib bedding. Joan laid Joanie on a daisy-covered pad atop the changing table. While she unsnapped the pink onesie, Allie took a diaper from the stacker and popped open the plastic cap on the wipes. The sweet smell of baby powder was quickly replaced with a less pleasant odor when Joan peeled the tape off the dirty diaper.

Eric stuck his head through the doorway as Allie pulled out a wipe and handed it to Joan. “Whew, I’m glad you girls got that out of the way before you left. Of course, the way this little piggie eats, I probably have at least one unpleasant surprise in store tonight.”

“Don’t worry.” Allie dropped the soiled bundle into the Diaper Genie and twisted the knob. “We won’t be gone very long. I’m sure we’ll be back for the next dirty diaper.”

“I’m kidding, Allie. You know I don’t mind taking care of my girl.” He leaned over and buried a kiss in Joanie’s chubby neck, eliciting a gurgle and an excited waving of arms and legs.

Joan snapped the onesie back in place over the fresh diaper and picked up the squirming infant. Allie stepped forward to take her, but instead Joan thrust her into Eric’s arms.

“It’s time to go. I don’t want to be late.” With a meaningful glance in Allie’s direction, she marched out of the room, Eric right behind her with Joanie hugged tightly to his chest.

Left alone in the nursery, Allie fought a wave of panic that caused her throat to tighten with unshed tears. Cheerful daisies mocked her. She knew this feeling, had sensed the edges of it creeping toward her all day. The moment had come. After five weeks of constantly being in Joanie’s presence, she was about to leave her in someone else’s care.

Don’t be ridiculous.
She scrubbed at her eyes with the back of her hand. Joanie wasn’t staying with a stranger. She was staying with her daddy! He’d watched her many times while Allie enjoyed a long bath or a nap.

But what if she cries? What if she misses me?

She started toward the living room, and then stopped short as an even more distressing thought struck her.
What
if she doesn’t even notice I’m gone?

“Allie, are you coming?”

Joan’s voice propelled her feet into motion. She would
not
think about that.

“I’m ready.”

One step took her from the hallway into their tiny living room, where Eric had deposited Joanie on the mat beneath her baby gym. Allie fought to suppress a wave of regret when chubby infant hands waved with erratic enthusiasm at the dangling toys, and happy coos filled the room. It had only been in the past few days that she’d started noticing the toys. She was growing so fast, changing every day. What if she did something really cool for the first time tonight, while Allie wasn’t here to see it? She dropped to her knees and showered Joanie’s face with goodbye kisses.

“There are a couple of bottles all ready to go in the fridge,” she told Eric. “Run hot water over them to warm them. Don’t use the microwave.”

Eric stood and pulled her up with him. “I won’t.” He planted a kiss on her cheek.

“She ate two hours ago, so she’ll probably be hungry around eight. If she gets fussy before—”

Joan grabbed her arm and steered her forcefully toward the front door. “Come along, Mother. It’s time to go.”

Thoughts of all the terrible things that could happen pummeled her mind like giant hailstones. She pulled away and whirled toward Eric. “Don’t give her a bath until I get home. You know how slippery she is when she’s soapy.”

He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face the door. “Stop worrying. We’ll be fine. Now go have a good time.” A gentle shove pushed her forward.

From the porch, Joan seized her and jerked her through the doorway. Allie shook her off and spun around to remind Eric to put the baby’s sweater on because the house would cool when the sun went down, but the front door slammed shut in her face. Tears welled in her eyes.

“You’re pathetic.” Joan folded her arms across her chest and leveled an unsympathetic look on her.

Allie sniffled. “It’s the first time we’ve been apart in five weeks.”

“Then it’s about time you gave the poor kid some breathing room.” She shook her head. “You’re becoming one of those hovering mothers. I can totally see you stalking her on the kindergarten playground during recess.”

Actually, Allie didn’t see a problem with dropping by to check on your kids during the day, but in the face of Joan’s sardonic expression, she didn’t dare mention it. Instead she lifted a chin. “I will not be a hovering mother.”

A snort blasted from her sister’s nose. “I know my big sister. You’ll hover like a helicopter.”

Her head held high, Allie marched past Joan toward the driveway. “I thought you didn’t want to be late.”

She rubbed her hands on her arms. It was a chilly fifty degrees, and the orange October sun was rapidly dropping toward the horizon. They’d shoved her out the door without a jacket, but she didn’t dare go back inside now or she’d never hear the end of it. Serve them both right if she caught pneumonia and died.

2

Joan pointed her remote control at the car and a soft
click
came from inside. Allie slid into the passenger seat, relishing the warmth left over from Joan’s drive across town. An air freshener stick, tucked discreetly into the heater vent, filled the interior with the scent of freshly sliced lemons. She breathed deeply, willing the sharp citrusy odor to banish the tears that hovered behind her eyes as Joan rounded the front of the car. If her sister caught her sniffling with separation anxiety, she’d harp on it all night.

“How did you get roped into this thing tonight, anyway?” Allie asked when Joan slid into the driver’s seat.

Joan started the engine and turned to look through the back window as the car rolled down the driveway. “A friend from church invited me. She said she was sort of pressured into having this party, and since Eve is part of our mission trip group, I didn’t feel like I could refuse.”

Joan was totally into the whole church thing ever since she started dating Ken Fletcher. Her church group was planning a trip to Mexico in January to build houses for poor people, and it seemed like every weekend they had some sort of fund-raiser going on.

“Well, don’t expect me to buy anything,” Allie warned. “I hate pushy makeup saleswomen.”

Joan turned a corner and the sun, a fiery orange sphere half concealed by the horizon ahead of them, stung Allie’s eyes. She put a hand up to block the rays.

“Apparently it’s more than makeup,” Joan told her, squinting to see through the glare. “Eve said they sell all sorts of stuff.”

“What’s it called, anyway?”

“Uh, Varie Cose, or something like that.”

“Very cozy? Is it some kind of treatment for varicose veins?” Allie slapped her thigh, whooping at her own joke.

“You’re a riot.” Joan lifted a shoulder, eyes fixed on the road. “I think it’s Italian.”

Still chuckling, Allie adjusted the heater vent to direct warm air toward her arms. “I hope your friend is serving snacks. If I’m going to suffer through a sales pitch, the least she can do is feed me.”

Joan executed a few turns, the volume on the radio tuned so low Allie could barely make out the strains of an unfamiliar song. Joan hummed along, though, as they turned into an apartment complex and parked. As Allie opened the car door, she glanced at her watch. 7:04. Joanie wouldn’t be ready to eat for another—

Jerking upright in the seat, she realized that she hadn’t thought of her baby in a whole five minutes! She started to brag to Joan, but then decided she’d probably be accused of obsessing.

Joan bounded up a set of stairs, and Allie followed. Eight steps, turn a corner, eight more steps. She lost sight of her sister, who had trotted on ahead of her and disappeared around the next corner, but she followed Joan’s progress through the sound of her footsteps as she skipped upward. Going up and down these stairs every day would kill her.

By the time Allie reached the third floor, she was hauling herself up on the handrail, huffing with effort. “For cryin’ out loud, why don’t they put elevators in these buildings?”

Joan waited for her on the top landing. “Stairs are good for you. They’ll get your heart pounding and your blood circulating.”

“Yeah, well, it’s pounding alright.” She collapsed against the wall to pant. “I think I’m going to have a stroke.”

“You’ll be fine.”

No sympathy from her little sister, not that Allie expected any. Miss Fitness Freak turned her nose up at french fries and ran a gazillion miles every morning before work.

At Joan’s knock, the door opened. A cute young woman with dark, curly hair and deep dimples in her cheeks said, “Hey! Come in,” and threw the door wide.

Joan hugged her briefly on her way into the apartment, waving a hand in Allie’s direction. “Eve, I don’t think you’ve met my sister, have you?”

Allie stepped forward and shook the girl’s hand. “Allie Harrod. Nice to meet you.”

“I’m so glad you could come. And congratulations on your new baby. Joan has told us all about her at church. Her pictures are adorable.”

Allie instantly warmed to the girl. “I have some new ones.” She patted her purse, which contained photos she’d printed on her inkjet just that morning.

“I can’t wait to see them.”

As she stepped into the room, Allie whiffed a sweet vanilla-scented aroma, the promise of freshly baked snacks later. She glanced around as Eve closed the door. A half-dozen women crowded a living room smaller than hers at home, three on a blue floral print sofa, one in the matching chair, and another on a wooden dining room chair in front of a sliding glass door. Joan was shaking the hand of a sixth woman who stood in front of a small television stand. The woman’s face wore the wide, unmistakable smile of one who is accustomed to being the center of attention. Ah, the saleswoman. Her dark lipstick and perfectly penciled eyebrows marked her instantly. As did the heavy scent of perfume that cloyed at Allie’s nose as the woman approached.

She extended a slim hand with manicured nails the exact shade of her lips. “I’m Sally Jo Campbell, the Varie Cose consultant.”

She pronounced it
VAH-ree-yah CO-see
, but any European glamour she might have hoped to portray with her assumed Italian accent was destroyed by a heavy southern drawl that doubled the regular number of syllables in her name
.
Allie glanced at Joan, then quickly away when she saw her sister’s lips twitch.

Allie shook the hand, wondering why in the world people bleached their teeth. Didn’t they know that blazing white looked unnatural? “Nice to meet you. I’m Allie Harrod.”

“If you’ll just take a seat, honey, I think it’s about time to start.”

Joan sat in a wooden chair and patted the empty one beside her. Allie settled there as Eve dragged the last chair from the dinette set to the opposite end of the semicircle. In the corner nearest Allie, a white sheet covered a pile of something-or-other on top of a spindly legged card table. Ah. The stuff they were going to be pressured into buying.

Sally Jo’s dazzling smile swept the room. “First off, I want to thank y’all for coming tonight. And special thanks to Eve, our hostess for the evening.” She inclined her head toward Eve, whose dimples deepened.

Sally Jo continued. “To start out, I’d like to ask y’all a question. Have any of you ever heard of Varie Cose before?”

Allie glanced at the others as she shook her head. A thin woman on the sofa raised a tentative hand. “I have.”

“Of course, Mrs. Tankersley.” Sally Jo nodded, and then announced to everyone else, “Eve’s mama hosted a party last month. She earned a lovely gift when her guests bought more than
four hundred dollars
of Varie Cose products!”