“Melanie’s natural color is actually a little darker—she colors it now to hide the gray that’s started to come through,” my mother said matter-of-factly.
Sultana thrust a lipstick into my hands either to distract me or keep my hands occupied so they wouldn’t do any damage. “Try this,” she said. “It was all the rage at Charleston Fashion Week. It will look gorgeous on you.”
As I applied the lipstick, my mother continued. “You look good as a blonde, Jayne, but I think you’d look stunning as a brunette. Don’t you think, Mellie?”
“Uh-huh,” I said, grateful for the lipstick that prevented me from forming full words. Otherwise I’d just ask my mother to shout to the world that her daughter was old and gray and that the nanny would outshine her if she’d color her hair back to brown. I closed my eyes, much to Sultana’s protests that I would mess up my mascara. I just couldn’t face myself in the mirror. Jayne might talk like a teenager at times, but I certainly had the inner teenage voice down pat.
Sultana took the opportunity while my eyes were closed to grab a tweezer and begin plucking at errant eyebrow hairs. “You look like a woolly mammoth,” she said. “Let me clean these up for you.”
I sighed, resigned to my just punishment for my earlier thoughts.
“Melanie?” Jayne asked.
I braced myself, wondering if she wanted to borrow a pair of shoes—we’d recently discovered that we wore the same size. “Yes?”
“I was wondering—did you hide one of Sarah’s toys in that hall chest upstairs? She keeps crawling toward it and banging on the bottom drawer. I didn’t want to pry, so I didn’t look, but she certainly seems determined to get inside.”
“Ouch,” I said as Sultana ripped out a reluctant eyebrow hair and apparently a chunk of skin, judging by how much it hurt. I’d completely forgotten about the broken snow globes, or Nola telling me where she’d put them until I could tell Jayne. “Those are the remains of seven snow globes from the Pinckney house. They got broken, but Sophie was reluctant to throw them out, so I brought the bag home. Sarah saw them and was pretty fascinated, so I asked Nola to hide them until I could ask you what you wanted to do with them. Sarah must have seen her do it.”
“Well, that explains it,” Jayne said. “If it’s all right with you, I’ll take the bag out and show Sarah the empty drawer. Maybe she’ll forget about it.”
Ginette laughed. “Not likely—Sarah’s pretty stubborn. She gets it from her mother. She’s small and cute, but she’s like a pit bull with a bone when she gets it in her head that she wants something.”
I opened my eyes to find both Sultana and my mother studying my face. “Much better,” Ginette said, nodding approvingly, then slid her credit card across the counter. “Go ahead and wrap all this up—my treat.”
Despite our protests, Ginette insisted (obviously Sarah’s genetic disposition toward stubbornness ran deeper than just one generation) and Sultana began sorting our selections to ring up.
Jayne walked behind the counter to the shelves of perfume and picked one up to sniff. “I’m wondering if there’s a way she can play with the snow globes that might be safe. I mean, I wouldn’t let her handle them or put them in her mouth, but maybe some kind of game I can make up that might make her happy?”
I considered for a moment. “Well, she did show a partiality toward the Miami one—was really vocal about that one being ‘the one.’ For what, I have no idea, but as soon as I showed that one to her, she was fine and then went to sleep. If you want to whip them out of the bag and lay them on a table for her to let you know when you get it right, go right ahead.” I paused. “Just don’t leave them in their room when you’re done. I wouldn’t want them to get hold of one of them, just in case there’s still broken glass.”
“All right.” A frown crossed her brow. “How did they get broken?”
I cleared my throat while my mother unscrewed the lid of a face cream and took her time smelling it. “I’m not really sure. There’s so much construction going on, and so many workmen. I asked Amelia if they might be worth anything, and she said no, so at least there’s no restitution involved.”