It's a Numbers Game - Episode 9

To divert Lucille’s attention from Van, Josey began massaging Lucille’s hands.

 “Tell me about this new pastor you’re getting. What does this make, your tenth one in six years?”

“What?” questioned Lucille, as she jerked her hand back. “Now you take that back. You know darn well it’s only been three, and if it weren’t for all you Carington Heights' people running them out of town, we wouldn’t be where we are today.”

Josey reached for Lucille’s hand and looked at her handiwork. “What color you want this week? Black, to go on these claws. Now you know there is no truth to that statement you made. What makes you think we had any part in running your pastors off?”

Lucille snickered. “I think that pearly pink would be fine, thank you. And what I mean is, every darn organization in this town is run by members of the Carington Heights congregation, and don’t say it isn’t true. Who runs the school board? Who’s president of the Rotary and the Chamber of Commerce? Now you tell me it isn’t true.”

“Well, it looks to me like if they are running these things, it must be because that’s the way the Lord would have it,” said Josey, with a smug look on her face.

“Did it ever occur to you that it might just be because there are about thirty generations of family here, and when one kicks the bucket, they’ve got twenty relatives waiting in line to take their place? I’d call it a numbers game, and I don’t mean the Book of Numbers either,” snapped Lucille.

This was Lucille and Josey’s usual battle of the words they played. Neither meant each other harm, but they were both very strong willed women, and each believed they were led by the Lord. It just so happened that every time the Lord tried to get them to meet in the middle, they met all right, but they would keep battling until one was down for the count, and today it was Lucille.

“Listen Josey, we are ecstatic about this new pastor, and his wife is supposed to be a little doll. They both served in the Peace Corps and have traveled all over the world. Could you spread the word to everyone to at least give them a chance?”

“A chance? Honey, we’re meeting tonight to pray and find out what the welcoming committee has planned for them. We want to give them a good old-fashioned southern welcome. Here, set those nails under this lamp to dry.”
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Something's Kind of Squirrelly-Episode 8

“Carly’s teaching that?” asked Josey.

Great, she thought, there’s another one horning in on Van. Josey had a secret crush on him and every time he entered her shop, he made her heart thump all over the place. He was some kind of man, legs built like pillars, face chiseled like an Adonis and the sweetest personality. He had recently moved from the city, and had taken to small town living real quick.

“Just a manicure for you?” Josey asked. Like a surgeon, she skillfully laid out her tools and went to get some water for soaking. While she was gone, Lucille situated herself on the chair and gazed out the window. Van was across the way now, at Bud’s barbershop.

The shop was hushed except for the television that kept blinking in and out of focus. Lucille watched as a weather alert lit up the screen. She couldn’t hear much of anything, but she could see the alarmed look on the weatherman’s face as he excitedly pointed towards the huge green swirling mass that was moving towards land.

“You see that?” she asked, as Josey deftly removed her nail polish and set her hands to soaking.

Josey looked out the window towards Bud’s shop. “I know, that is the strangest thing,” she said, as she watched Van deliver another manila colored package.

“What’s strange?” asked Lucille.

“Once a week, Bud gets a manila package delivered and every time after it’s delivered, quick as a toad snaps up a fly, he puts up the closed sign, and you don’t see hide nor hair of him until about three o’clock. I mean in the middle of the day! He just closes up shop. He only does that when he gets those packages. I’ve been watching him for about six months now and it never changes, just like clock work.”

“I was meaning that hurricane, but now you’ve got me intrigued. What do you think is in the packages?” asked Lucille.

“I don’t know, but years ago Bud used to go home everyday for lunch. Now he stays all by himself in that shop, most of the time with the closed sign up. What’s so funny, is the look on his face, kind of like a little squirrel. He reaches his hand out for the package and then zip, he shuts the door.”

“Maybe I can find out from Van where the packages comes from,” said Lucille with a smile in her eyes, “you know, when we are at exercise class together.”

Visions of Van’s husky frame with sweat dripping off his bulging arms and traveling down his six-pack abdomen, drove Josey into a frenzy. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said, as she jabbed Lucille’s cuticle.

Lucille jerked her hand back. “Ouch, watch what you’re doing there.”

Josey said, “I think it’s a legal thing. He can’t talk about people’s mail. Ask your husband about it, since he’s the sheriff. If anyone should know about these things, he would.”

“I might just do that,” said Lucille. “Why do you think Van moved here, of all places?”

Acting like she had been given confidential information straight from the horse’s mouth, Josey bent her head down and whispered, "Well, you know he used to be a stock broker. I think he got tired of the city and wanted a place where he could raise his hawks.”

“Hawks?” exclaimed Lucille. “I didn’t know he raised them. Why in the world is he doing that? A good looking man like that should be roosting with a woman, not a bunch of birds, and he sure won’t find one up to his standards in this town.”

Josey bristled at the remark. “Well there are a few single women still available in this town you know, and if he’s looking for one, my sign says open.”

Josey hunched her shoulders forward a little more to expose her cleavage. In all her thirty-seven years, she still believed the greatest invention to mankind was the push up bra. The older she got, the tighter she hooked them. She figured push it up, poke it out and let the flesh fall where it may, which usually meant, out the top of her v-neck.
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Eye Candy - Episode 7

Josey glanced at the clock. It was only 10:30, so she had the whole morning free. She looked at her appointment book and realized she had penciled in Lucille Crocker for a manicure.

“Just what I need. Now, she’s going to go on and on about that new pastor they’re getting,” she said to Corky, as she leisurely puffed on her cigarette.

Lucille was a life long member of Trinity church, which was located at the north end of town and in direct opposition to anything and everything Carington Heights church, on the south end of town, believed in. The forefathers of the town must have had a premonition of what was to come when they built the churches directly opposite one another. 

She saw Lucille crossing the street, waving at someone. Looking in the direction of Lucille’s elaborate waving she saw Van Sheppard, Carington’s gorgeous mailman.

Looking at Corky, Josey pursed up her lips and squinted her eyes. “Would you just look at her, flirting with Van. She needs to remember she’s got a man at home. I swear, look at the wiggle in that fanny. You’d think she was sixteen years old. I wish Joe would come cruising down the street right about now and arrest her. She’s acting down right indecent, and her being the sheriff’s wife. One of the few single guys in this town and she’s got to get all over him. Joe will be handcuffing me, if he can pry my hands from around her fat turkey goblet neck.”

She hastily pulled away from the window as Lucille walked towards the shop.

Yelling over her shoulder to Van, Lucille entered, along with a hot blast of air.  “Hi Josey. That Van gets cuter and cuter every time I see him.” She licked her lips to aggravate Josey. “Have you ever seen him in his workout shorts? To tell you the truth, that’s why I signed up at the gym.”

“How long have you been going there?” asked Josey, as she critically looked Lucille up and down. “Are you going there for weight loss or cardiovascular? Don’t get me wrong, you look great, but I saw you had your exercise bicycle for sale in the Buzz Bee. I was wondering if you had given up on losing weight.”

 Josey surveyed Lucille’s dishwater blonde hair that was heavily frosted with gray. Lucille’s merry blue eyes conveyed the joy she felt every time she and Josey sparred with words, and that irritated Josey. It was almost as if she was making fun of or mocking her, and nobody got the best of Josey. Lucille may have put on some pudding around the middle, but her legs could still hold a candle to anyone’s. She worked out regularly and though her upper arms looked like they had goiters hanging from them, and her face was lined and worn, she still conveyed the image of a woman who didn’t know what it meant to grow old.

“Josey, if I didn’t know you better, I’d swear you were trying to hurt my feelings. I put that old contraption up for sale because the scenery is so much better at the gym, if you know what I mean. I haven’t seen you down there. Of course, classes are on Tuesday night and that’s your prayer meeting night, isn’t it? To bad, it really is a good class, except for that Carly, who teaches it. Who can compete with a 26 year old?”

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The Dreaded Prayer List-Episode 6

“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.

Stay tuned for the next episode!