The Darling Dahlias and the Silver Dollar Bush

“That’s the Lord’s truth,” Beulah said cheerfully, drying her hands. “Makes me tired just to think of it, Bessie. Now, you go on and sit in my cutting chair and I’ll be right with you, soon as I see how Aunt Hetty is coming along under that hair dryer. Oh, and Bettina put your plate of sour cream cookies on the table, and there’s tea in the pot.”


Bessie had brought cookies to share with Beulah’s and Bettina’s regular Wednesday morning clients—Aunt Hetty, Fannie Champaign, Earlynne Biddle, and Alice Ann Walker—who were discussing the latest local events. They might not add up to a hurricane, but there was a lot to discuss, including a jail break, two funerals, a wedding, the just-released Darling Dollars, and Liz Lacy’s exciting new job up in Montgomery.

“How long did you say Liz is going to be gone?” Alice Ann Walker asked from the chair where Bettina was cutting her hair. “A little shorter over the ears, please, Bettina,” she added. Alice Ann kept her hair cut short and simple so she didn’t have to fool with rollers and pin curls. That was because of her job at the bank, which kept her busy. She was going back tomorrow, when the bank was scheduled to reopen—to everyone’s great relief. It seemed that the crisis was over.

“She’ll be back at the end of July is what Charlie told me,” Fannie said. “Earlynne, do you want clear, or this pale pink?” She held up a bottle of nail polish. “Or maybe red?”

Fannie and Earlynne were seated on opposite sides of the manicure table next to the window, doing each other’s nails. When Fannie finished Earlynne’s, Earlynne would do Fannie’s. The manicure table was a new service, free and complimentary—Bettina’s idea, and a good one, too. All it took was a few bottles of inexpensive nail polish, some emery boards, and a little jar of cuticle cream, arranged on a small table with a vase of pretty flowers from Beulah’s garden. It would make a visit to the Bower that much more fun.

Bettina turned around, shears poised over Alice Ann’s damp hair. “Fannie, did I hear you mention Mr. Dickens? Are you seeing him again?”

Shyly, Fannie nodded. “But don’t ask me anything more, Bettina.” She pantomimed turning a key to lock her lips. “Charlie made me promise not to talk about . . . us.”

With a cup of tea and two of her own cookies, Bessie settled herself in Beulah’s haircutting chair. “That’s wonderful news, Fannie!” She chuckled wryly. “It sure took that man long enough to see the light. What finally brought him around?”

“I think Verna had something to do with it,” Fannie said. “She and I had a little talk, then she had a little talk with him, and then he—” She stopped, coloring. “Well, you know. I really shouldn’t say another word.”

“I’ll have pink,” Earlynne said. “No, do me in red, Fannie. A girl has to live dangerously every now and then.” She smiled. “And maybe I’ll have you make me a red newsboy cap, like the one you made for Verna. Myra May and Violet said that Mr. Duffy fell head over heels for her the minute he saw her in that cap.”

“Red it is,” Fannie replied, uncapping the little bottle of nail polish. “And haven’t I always said that hats can work miracles?”

“I’ll tell you what would be a miracle,” Earlynne said knowingly. “If Verna fell for Mr. Duffy, that’s what. You know how unsentimental that woman is.”

Fannie lifted an eyebrow. “Stranger things have happened.” She looked down at Earlynne’s hand and clucked her tongue. “What have you been doing to your nails, Earlynne?”

“Digging in the garden.” Earlynne made a face. “I hope you can do something with them.”

Beulah lifted the metal hair dryer bonnet off Aunt Hetty and felt to see if the curls were dry. “That’ll do you, Aunt Hetty,” she said and turned off the dryer. Going back to Alice Ann’s question, she added, “Liz promised to be back in time to start the planning for the Dahlias fall flower show, Alice Ann. She may be back on weekends, too. Her mama’s not just real good. She’s taken to her bed.”