The Darling Dahlias and the Texas Star

“I hear that Myra May’s mother is a real good cook,” Bettina said, fluffing her fingers through Verna’s hair. “Is she going to stay in Darling and help out at the diner?”


“She says she’s going to settle down here,” Aunt Hetty replied. “She and Myra May are getting acquainted. She loves Violet. And she downright adores little Cupcake. Says it’s like having a grandbaby.”

Beulah put the rest of the curlers in a drawer. “But where’s she going to live? I’ve been in Myra May’s flat. It’s pretty small, especially with the baby. They couldn’t put a mouse in there.”

“You haven’t heard?” Lizzy asked. “Raylene and Pauline DuBerry have struck up a friendship, and Pauline has asked her if she’d like to live upstairs in the DuBerry house. Raylene is going to pay rent, which will give Pauline enough extra money so she can hire somebody to help her clean the cabins and do the laundry. Pauline’s getting on, you know. She doesn’t have any children and with Floyd gone, it’ll be good for her to have somebody living in the house. She’s even agreed to let Raylene use her car to drive to work.”

“Raylene,” Verna said thoughtfully. “So we’re not going to call her Ina Ray?”

“Raylene says that Ina Ray’s dead,” Aunt Hetty said flatly. “She doesn’t want to be Ina Ray anymore. Everybody’s supposed to call her Raylene—except for Myra May, who can call her Mama any time she wants. Violet, too. And Cupcake is already calling her Grandma.”

Beulah unbuttoned Liz’s pink cape and took it off. “There, Liz—you’re all done. Let’s put you under the hair dryer.” Lizzy followed her to the chair and sat down, while Beulah adjusted the big metal bonnet over her head and flicked the switch. The machine began to hum and warm air swished down around Lizzy’s ears. “And I just made something I want all you ladies to try out,” Beulah added. She disappeared in the direction of the kitchen.

“I think it’s so sweet about Myra May and her mother,” Bettina said softly. “Such a lovely reunion—especially after so many years apart. A happy ending, don’t you think?” She swiped at one eye with the back of her hand. “Makes me tear up just to think of it.”

Verna clucked her tongue. “Bettina, you are just so sentimental.”

Bettina’s forehead puckered in a puzzled frown. “Well, what’s so bad about being sentimental? I mean, if you’ve got feelings in your heart, you should show them, isn’t that right?”

“But you can’t know if this is an ending,” Verna said in a practical tone. “I mean, as far as Myra May and Raylene are concerned, maybe it’s a beginning. Or somewhere in the middle. And maybe it won’t be so happy. Maybe they won’t like each other as much as they think. Maybe—”

“Verna, Verna,” Aunt Hetty said, shaking her head darkly. “You are the most distrustful person the good lord ever allowed to walk on this green earth. Isn’t she, Lizzy?”

“What?” Lizzy smiled at Aunt Hetty. “I can’t hear a thing with this hair dryer going.”

Beulah came out of the kitchen with a spoon and a small crockery bowl of a fluffy white mixture. “All right, ladies,” she said. “I want you to hold out your hands. I’ll give you each a spoonful of my new magic hand cream. I want you to rub it in and tell me how it feels.” She went around to each of them with the bowl and the spoon.

It was cool, Lizzy thought as she rubbed the mixture into her skin. “It feels smooth,” she said. “And rich.”

“Good on these old hands,” Aunt Hetty agreed, rubbing.

“Not at all sticky,” Verna said in an approving tone. “So many of the hand creams I’ve tried feel sticky.”

Bessie sniffed her hands. “Smells good, too. Smells like Blue Waltz.”

“You guessed it, Bessie,” Beulah said happily. “I added just a couple of drops of Blue Waltz, from the five-and-dime, to make it smell pretty. But before you leave, you’ll want to rinse it off.”

“Rinse it off?” Verna wanted to know. “But why?”

“Because you might attract flies,” Beulah said. “It’s mostly mashed potatoes.”

“Mashed potatoes!” the Dahlias cried in unison.

Beulah nodded smiling. “Well, you know my motto, ladies. We may not have much, but we get beautiful when we use what we’ve got.”