“I wondered if you could fit in a quick roll for me,” Adelaide asked. “I can take it out later and style it myself—I’ll return the rollers this afternoon, of course. No worries if you can’t. I’ll just pick and fluff and spray the heck out of it.”

“Helen can handle it,” Patricia said. “That shouldn’t take long at all. Why are you in such a rush? Is something wrong?”

“My cousin decided on a last-minute visit and even laster-minute notification, and I can’t do things up as quickly as you girls,” Adelaide said.

Patricia waved her to an open chair. “We can’t have you looking poorly for family. You know they pull that last-minute crap just to try to catch you at your worst.”

Adelaide crossed the salon, silently asking forgiveness for sullying her cousin’s character. But right now, a little bit of white lying was necessary. She gave Dottie a hard stare as she took her seat, and the other woman gave her a barely imperceptible shake of the head, indicating she hadn’t gotten down to the real business at hand yet. Adelaide wasn’t too late after all.

“I don’t suppose Marina can do it, can she?” Adelaide asked, figuring she might as well get straight to the real reason for her false claim of a hair emergency. “She manages a really tight curl. I can’t ever get it to hold as long as she does.”

Patricia glanced at Helen and frowned. “I’m afraid not. Marina’s had a bit of trouble. I’m not sure what her plans are.”

“What do you mean?” Adelaide asked, pretending confusion.

“Well, I probably shouldn’t say but her husband left her,” Patricia said.

“Harold died?” Adelaide asked.

“No,” Patricia said. “Why would you think that?”

“Because a man who looks like Harold shouldn’t leave a woman like Marina,” Adelaide said. “She was always too good for him.”

Patricia sniffed. “I guess it’s all a matter of taste. But I have to say I’m not really surprised. I mean, Marina was kind of cute, I guess, when she was young, but she’s let herself go the last couple years.”

The haughty, holier-than-thou tone in Patricia’s voice made Adelaide want to strangle her with a blow-dryer cord. But then, ever since she’d been crowned homecoming queen thirty years ago, Patricia had thought she was better than most people in town. Why, Adelaide had no idea. She still had the same squinty eyes and crooked front tooth that she’d had when Adelaide taught her in high school. And the stick up her butt hadn’t moved an inch, either.

“Gaining a few pounds hardly constitutes letting yourself go,” Adelaide said. “I think we’ve all gained a few pounds in our later years.”

“Isn’t that the truth,” Dottie agreed. “Besides, Marina has had a lot to deal with. That daughter of hers is smart as Einstein but stubborn as all get-out and convinced she knew better than everyone else by the time she hit elementary school. And no one has ever kept Marina’s mother out of trouble. Quite frankly, it’s a testament to her character that Marina didn’t turn to drink before she got Letitia into that assisted living facility.”