“Karen’s doing fine, but I tell you, I think that woman has a big secret. She may be the pastor’s wife, but there’s something wrong with the way she flaunts that wild head of red hair. What do you think?” asked Josey.
Mertis lowered her head to avoid Josey’s eyes. “Well…you know I don’t feel comfortable talking about others.”
Ever since Mertis had taken the job as the church secretary, Josey had been trying to pull information out of her. Josey tried to justify it by saying it was necessary so she could pray for the needs of others, but Mertis knew the Bible had another name for it, gossip.
“I’m not talking about her,” said Josey defensively, as she washed Mertis’s hair. “I’m just saying something isn’t right. For a pastor’s wife, she doesn’t seem too friendly. Have you ever seen her visiting the sick or signing up for any mission trips? No, something isn’t right there. You remember Pastor Manning? Before Pastor Foster came, Pastor Manning’s wife was involved in everything. There wasn’t a day went by she wasn’t calling up someone, carrying over some food, or visiting them.”
Josey pushed the chair upright and Mertis took a minute to right her spinning head. She really needed to see her doctor about the high blood pressure medication she was taking. To avert any more conversation, she rubbed her wrinkled forehead, “Josey, I’ve got the worst headache. Have you got any aspirin?”
Josey wrapped Mertis’s wet hair in a turban, “Sure hon, let me get you some.” She clicked her way to the back of the shop and Mertis prayed that someone- anyone, would drop by, so she wouldn’t have to talk anymore. Josey had a way of spooning information out of a person like she was sitting down to a meal.
“Here you go hon,” said Josey, “and let me massage that scalp of yours for a second. Maybe that will relieve some of the pressure.”
Mertis closed her eyes, tilted her head back and let Josey’s hands do their magic. The quietness of the shop was relaxing, with only the occasional sounds of life going on outside in the small town. After the massage, Josey rubbed some gel into Mertis’s hair and went after it with a hair dryer. The tightly molded hair could resist just about anything when Josey was done with it. For the finishing touch, Josey stuck her finger in her mouth, wrapped Mertis’s short bangs around it, and left a neat little spit curl right in the center of her forehead.
“There you go honey. See if those little curls won’t bring that man home for lunch now.” Josey winked, as if the two of them had a big secret to hide.
“Thanks,” Mertis said, as she nervously fiddled with the handle of her purse. “I’ll see you tonight at the prayer meeting.”
Josey snapped her gum and pointed her finger. “I’ll be there. You know we’ve got a lot of praying to do tonight. There’s a bunch of people that need to come into repentance from the looks of my prayer list, and we’ve also got to pray for that hurricane.”
Stepping out into the fresh air, Mertis breathed a sign of relief. She couldn’t wait to get home, make an egg salad sandwich and crack open her new murder mystery novel.
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