Read Color Me Bad: A Novella Online
Authors: Sharon Sala
Color Me Bad: A Novella
Copyright © 2013 by Sharon Sala
Cover and internal design © 2013 by Sourcebooks, Inc.
Cover design by Jessie Sayward Bright
Cover illustration by Cara Petrus
Cover image © MaxyM/Shutterstock
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The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
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CONTENTS
A Sneak Peek of
The Curl Up & Dye
At one time or another in your lifetime, a fresh start is always a good idea. Like starting over with a new box of crayons and a blank sheet of paper, or realizing the spot on the dress you intended to wear isn’t coming out after all and you go back to the closet for that second choice.
If you take it with the intent the universe expects, it’s a gift. Just because it doesn’t come with wrapping paper and ribbons doesn’t mean it won’t be the best gift you ever received.
This book is dedicated to new beginnings and the people brave enough to take the chance and make them.
CHAPTER 1
Ruby Dye showed up in Blessings, Georgia, twelve years earlier with nothing to her name but her divorce papers and a cosmetology license. She had just enough money from her divorce settlement to set up a beauty shop she called The Curl Up and Dye, with very little left over. It was a simple plan. If she didn’t cut enough hair, she wouldn’t eat. But as it turned out, she had arrived in Blessings to provide a service that had been missing. Before the first week was out, she was booked solid. Considering it was the first good thing that had happened to her in a long time, she was grateful.
She made it a practice to change her hair color and style on a biyearly basis as a means of advertising her own skill, and last night had been the night for another change. She’d gone home with shoulder-length brown hair and auburn highlights. This morning her hair was chin length and red. Audacious Red was the color on the box, and she considered it a good measure of her attitude. She came in the back door, unloaded the box of doughnuts fresh from the bakery, and started coffee.
Vesta and Vera Conklin, her fortysomething identical twin stylists would be here soon, and neither one of them was fit for conversation until they’d had something sweet and a cup of coffee in their bellies. Ruby loved the both of them, but they were the most opinionated women she’d ever met, and their confrontational attitude was probably why neither one of them was married.
At thirty-two, Mabel Jean Doolittle was the youngest employee. She did manicures and pedicures at The Curl Up and Dye and, when they were extra busy, helped out on shampoo duty, as well.
She was a feisty little blond with a scar on her forehead from going headfirst into the windshield of her boyfriend’s car when she was only sixteen. It was a daily reminder to never make stupid-ass choices in men again.
Ruby was proud of what she’d accomplished. The one thing she hadn’t expected was for the shop to become the local confessional, which it had. Eventually, every secret in town came out at The Curl Up and Dye.
She was running the dust mop over the black and white tiles when the back door opened. Vesta and Vera entered, both wearing pink smocks and the same pissy scowl on their faces.
“Morning, girls. Coffee is hot. Doughnuts are fresh. Help yourselves,” Ruby said.
“Morning, Sister,” they echoed, then stopped. “Nice hair color,” they added, and headed for the break room.
Ruby smiled as she headed for the register to count out the money for the till. Nearly everyone in town called her “Sister,” and she liked it. It made her feel like she was part of a great big family. Once the money was in the drawer, she moved to the front door. She was just about to turn the Closed sign to Open when she saw Alma Button pull up in front of the shop.
The fact that it was August 15 and Alma was driving the family van made Ruby wince. It must be time for back-to-school haircuts for Alma’s six boys. When she saw the side door open and boys spilling out like puppies turned loose in a barn full of chickens, she took a deep breath and yelled out, “Girls, grab your scissors! Here comes Alma and her boys.”
The twins stepped out of the break room. On a scale of one to ten, their tolerance for children was a three, and judging from their expressions, that had just plummeted to a one.
Vera was muttering beneath her breath as she brushed powdered-sugar crumbs off her smock.
Vesta frantically stirred a second packet of sugar into her coffee.
Ruby turned the sign to Open and unlocked the door.
“Morning, Alma. Y’all are here early.”
She smiled at the boys trailing in behind their mother.
From the looks on their faces, they were no happier to be here than Ruby and her girls were to see them coming.
“Morning, Ruby,” Alma echoed, and gave the boys a warning look. “You know Joe down at the barber shop is still in the hospital from his hip replacement, and I didn’t want to have to drive all the way to Savannah with six boys just to get their haircuts. I figured if we came early we could avail ourselves of your ‘walk-ins welcome’ offer.”
Ruby pointed to the three open stylist chairs. “Yes, I heard about Joe. They say he’ll be out of the hospital in another couple of weeks but won’t open back up for a while yet.”
“That’s what I heard, too,” Alma said.
Ruby pointed at the chairs. “Okay, boys, who’s first? Three of you grab yourselves a seat and we’ll get this over. My goodness, you all have grown. Looks like no more booster seats for the Button boys, right?”
“I’m six now and tall for my age,” Cooter announced.
Billy Joe punched his little brother on the arm.
“Big deal, Cooter. I’m almost eight.”
“Shut up, the both of you,” Larry muttered. At ten, he considered himself beyond that.
Ruby heard what sounded like a slight whistle, followed by the scent of an odorous fart. She turned on the ceiling fan and pretended not to notice, but was guessing it was either Jesse or James, the twelve-year-old twins, who were suddenly interested in the display of hair gel.
“
Madre
, someone farted!” Cooter yelled.
Alma glared at her son. “Hush your mouth,” she hissed. “He’s learning Spanish from
Sesame
Street
,” she added, hoping the use of a second language overrode her other child’s social faux pas.
Vesta’s nose wrinkled in disapproval, both for the smell and the task ahead.
Bobby Button, who had been nicknamed Belly before he started first grade, took a seat in Ruby’s chair, refusing to acknowledge the boys he’d come in with. He would turn fifteen in a week and eyed his hair with regret. He’d been growing it all summer and was pissed at having to give it up. When he saw his mother watching him, he glared.
She glared back. Whether they liked it or not, part of getting her six boys ready for a new year of school meant buzz cuts, and they had Belly’s entrance into second grade to blame. Before his first month in second grade was over, he had been infected with head lice and proceeded to share the infection with everyone else in the family before Alma knew that he had them.
By the time she had the scourge under control, she’d quit having sex with her husband, claiming it was partly his fault for giving her nothing but boys; burned every piece of bed linen she owned; and shaved the boys bald. Her skin had crawled for months afterward. Although it had never happened again and she finally went back to her wifely duties of submitting to her husband’s sexual advances, she was thoroughly convinced the scourge remained under control because of her due diligence to cleanliness and the removal of most of her sons’ hair.
The twins climbed up in the other two chairs, somewhat fascinated by the fact that the women who were about to cut their hair were also twins. They looked in the mirror, then at each other, and giggled. Then they looked at the expressions on the hairstylists’ faces and frowned. Obviously, Vera and Vesta were not as amused.
“The usual?” Vera asked, as she put the cape around a twin.
“How short?” Vesta asked.
Alma folded her arms across her bosom. “The usual. Very short.”
When the clippers began to buzz, Cooter covered his eyes. Billy Joe fell backward onto the floor, pretending he was dead, and Larry was picking his nose.
It was an auspicious beginning to what would turn out to be an eventful day.
•••
By noon, the foot traffic in the salon was slowing down. Mabel Jean didn’t have another manicure until after 1:00 p.m. and had gone across the street to Granny’s Country Kitchen for lunch. Vesta and Vera were in the back eating lunch they’d brought from home, leaving Ruby up front to finish Patty June Clymer’s weekly hairdo.
Patty June’s husband, Conrad, was the preacher at the Freewill Baptist Church. Up until the last few weeks, he always had his hair trimmed when he brought Patty for her appointment. But for the past six weeks, Preacher Clymer had been a no-show.
The first trip Patty June made alone seemed of no consequence to anyone, especially Patty June. The second one she was a little bit miffed but made all kinds of excuses. After that, she hadn’t mentioned his name again.