Bingo by Rita Mae Brown Read Free Book Online

teasing tone.
    “Find somebody new to play gin with.”
    “Nobody will play with you anymore because you win all the time.”
    She was silent on the line for a bit. “I hope you’re not staying here to take care of me. I can take care of myself.”
    “I’m here because I love Runnymede—and I love you.”
    “Don’t get mushy, Nicole. I can’t stand it when you get mushy.” She inhaled deeply and I knew she had a Chesterfield in her hand. After she swore she’d given up smoking too. “If you do find someone, go. No woman is going to come here to live with you. There aren’t enough jobs and the town’s tolerant but maybe they’re tolerant because they don’t have to face you having someone. Know what I mean? If you live with another woman, then it’s real. As long as you’re single it’s an idea. They can think of you as an eccentric—which you are.” She giggled.
    “You really think our people are that petty?”
    “Hell, yes! I’ve lived here since 1905 and we redefined the word
petty.
”
    “I don’t know what to say. Anyway, it’s an academic discussion because I’m alone, but if I find someone, you’ll be the first to know.”
    “Good. I’d die if Wheezie found out first.” She took another drag and I was about to yell at her but thought better of it. Her lungs had lasted this long. “Love is all there is. Don’t be one of those people who has to think about it. Go with your heart. Who cares if you look a fool? Better to make a fool of yourself than have someone else do it for you.”
    “Mother, how come you’re on this love kick?”
    “My mind inclined that way today. Well, I’ve got worms to turn and eggs to lay so I’m hanging up. Supper here tomorrow. What do you want?”
    “Fried chicken and greens with fatback.”
    “You got it, and don’t forget we go to bingo an hour early next Friday.”
    “I won’t.”
    “Bye-bye.”
    “Bye.”
    I hung up the phone and was engulfed in a wave of guilt. How was I going to explain Jackson Frost to her? If the Fates were kind, she’d never find out. Maybe the Fates were a grand excuse too. I didn’t need the Fates to destroy me or to make me. I could do it myself.
    The afternoon sun died on the windowsill, leaving remains in Pewter’s dark gray fur. She stretched and came over for a scratch. I don’t know why I didn’t realize it at the time—I guess I was too wound up over the
Clarion
—but in looking back I realize why Mother was talking about love. She’d fallen in love at first sight with Ed Tutweiler Walters.

6
HAIR-DO CITY

MONDAY … 30 MARCH
    T he Curl ’n Twirl reposed on the northeastern side of the Square. It was next to the Masonic Lodge, which sat on the corner of Baltimore Street. On the other side of the Curl ’n Twirl was Saint Paul’s Episcopal Church. The whole north side of the Square was spiffy and bright except for the defunct Bon Ton Department Store abandoned on the valuable Hanover Street corner. Mr. Pierre grexed and groaned about Pennsylvania taxes, which were worse than Maryland taxes, although that’s not saying much. However, few buildings came up for rent on the Square, so when the old Lansburg Dress Shop folded in 1957, Mr. Pierre and Bob Howard, his lover and partner, were shrewd enough to grab it. We all wondered if Mr. Pierre would be able to carry on after Bob died, but he persevered and the hair salon flourished.
    In part it flourished because Mr. Pierre treated every customer as an honored guest, and in part it flourished because he shrewdly made the place exciting. Every five years he suffered a spasm of redecoration. He consumed
Architectural Digest, House and Garden
, and design magazines from Italy and France. Last year he went all-out and revamped the place. Shining high-tech, it sported a thin band of purple neon which ran around the top of the wall where molding would be. The floors were sleek pearl-gray tiles and the walls were palest pink, very flattering to his clients’