The Darling Dahlias and the Confederate Rose

As the bell over the door tinkled, Beulah Trivette looked up from the head of dark hair she was cutting. This head happened to belong to Alice Ann Walker, cashier at the Darling Savings and Trust, who took an early lunch hour once a month and came over for a quick trim. Beulah smiled at Myra May, who had just opened the back door and come into the Beauty Bower.

“Good mornin’, hon,” she chirped. “How’s every little thing at the diner? You doin’ okay?”

“It’s getting hot out there,” Myra May said, loosening the collar of her plaid blouse. “And it’s only April. Hello, Beulah, Alice Ann. I know I’m a little early, but I just finished grocery shopping and thought I’d come on.”

“Mornin’, Myra May,” Alice Ann said. “It’s not just hot, but humid, too. I can sure tell it in my hair. It’s so fine, when the weather’s soggy, all the spring come out of the curl. I go out to work in the garden and come back looking like something the cat dragged in.” Alice Ann was a Dahlia, like Beulah and Myra May. Mostly, she grew vegetables to feed the Walker family, but she also had quite a few roses, pass-along plants she had collected from the Dahlias’ plant swaps.

“It’s fine, all right.” Beulah, a buxom blonde with a pretty face and a sweet smile, regarded Alice Ann’s hair with a critical look. “I could try to sell you some of that expensive curling lotion I’ve got over there on the shelf, but—”

“Sorry, Beulah,” Alice Ann interrupted with a sigh. “I’m doin’ real good to afford to get my hair cut once a month. I couldn’t buy any of that expensive stuff, even if it made me look like Greta Garbo.”

“Gif me a vhisky,” Myra May said, in a husky imitation of Garbo’s voice. “Ginger ale on the side, and don’t be stingy, baby.”

It was the famous first line of Garbo’s most recent movie, Anna Christie, with Charles Bickford. Mr. Greer, who owned the Palace Theater, had made a special effort to get the movie, which was a talkie. The whole town had turned out for the grand occasion. Darling was still buzzing about it, and everybody was trying to find an excuse to use Garbo’s line.

“You sound just like Garbo, Myra May.” Beulah laughed, a generous, full-throated laugh that made people naturally smile when they heard it. “And you hold your horses, Alice Ann. What I was about to tell you was that you can make your own settin’ lotion that’s near ’bout as good and a durn sight cheaper than that expensive stuff in the fancy bottle. All you do is stir up a teaspoonful of honey in a half cup of warm water and add a tablespoon of lemon juice and maybe a drop or two of your favorite perfume. You can spray it on or just dab it on your pin curls when you set your hair at night. Works real fine.”

“Oh, that’s swell, Beulah,” Alice Ann said eagerly. “Honey is one thing I got plenty of these days. Arnold keeps two hives out behind the barn. We don’t hardly have to buy sugar. And we’re thinkin’ we might could have some honey to sell come fall.” Alice Ann’s husband had lost his leg in a railroad accident. The railroad said it was his fault (which it wasn’t) and wouldn’t pay him any money—wouldn’t even help with the doctor bills. He whittled wooden whirligigs and other garden art objects to bring in some extra cash.

“Honey and lemon juice,” Myra May said thoughtfully. “Sounds like something Violet would like to know about.” She looked around. “Bettina’s not here today?” Bettina was Beulah’s helper.

“She had to run to the Mercantile to pick up some material for the new smocks she’s sewin’ up for us,” Beulah said, turning back to Alice Ann’s hair. “She’ll be back in a jiffy to shampoo you. Or if she isn’t, I’ll do you myself when I’m done cuttin’ Alice Ann. Sit down and have a cup of coffee while you’re waitin’, sweetie. Oh, and Miz Adcock brought some cupcakes. She was Bettina’s nine thirty, so there’s still plenty left.”

Beulah liked it when her clients (she never thought of them as customers) brought something for their friends to nibble on while she and Bettina made them beautiful. She herself always provided a pot of coffee, and in the summer, there was iced tea in the icebox. It made the day seem more like a pleasant tea party with friends than a long day of standing on her feet behind the hair-cutting chair or bent over the shampoo sink.