The Collected Stories of Eudora Welty - Eudora Welty [11]
There was a pause. The women stared at each other in the mirror.
"Who was it?" demanded Mrs. Fletcher.
"Honey, I really couldn't say," said Leota. "Not that you look it."
"Where's Thelma? I'll get it out of her," said Mrs. Fletcher.
"Now, honey, I wouldn't go and git mad over a little thing like that," Leota said, combing hastily, as though to hold Mrs. Fletcher down by the hair. "I'm sure it was somebody didn't mean no harm in the world. How far gone are you?"
"Just wait," said Mrs. Fletcher, and shrieked for Thelma, who came in and took a drag from Leota's cigarette.
"Thelma, honey, throw your mind back to yestiddy if you kin," said Leota, drenching Mrs. Fletcher's hair with a thick fluid and catching the overflow in a cold wet towel at her neck.
"Well, I got my lady half wound for a spiral," said Thelma doubtfully.
"This won't take but a minute," said Leota. "Who is it you got in there, old Horse Face? Just cast your mind back and try to remember who your lady was yestiddy who happ'm to mention that my customer was pregnant, that's all. She's dead to know."
Thelma drooped her blood-red lips and looked over Mrs. Fletcher's head into the mirror. "Why, honey, I ain't got the faintest," she breathed. "I really don't recollect the faintest. But I'm sure she meant no harm. I declare, I forgot my hair finally got combed and thought it was a stranger behind me."
"Was it that Mrs. Hutchinson?" Mrs. Fletcher was tensely polite.
"Mrs. Hutchinson? Oh, Mrs. Hutchinson." Thelma batted her eyes. "Naw, precious, she come on Thursday and didn't ev'm mention your name. I doubt if she ev'm knows you're on the way."
"Thelma!" cried Leota staunchly.
"All I know is, whoever it is 'll be sorry some day. Why, I just barely knew it myself!" cried Mrs. Fletcher. "Just let her wait!"
"Why? What're you gonna do to her?"
It was a child's voice, and the women looked down. A little boy was making tents with aluminum wave pinchers on the floor under the sink.
"Billy Boy, hon, mustn't bother nice ladies," Leota smiled. She slapped him brightly and behind her back waved Thelma out of the booth. "Ain't Billy Boy a sight? Only three years old and already just nuts about the beauty-parlor business."
"I never saw him here before," said Mrs. Fletcher, still unmollified.
"He ain't been here before, that's how come," said Leota. "He belongs to Mrs. Pike. She got her a job but it was Fay's Millinery. He oughtn't to try on those ladies' hats, they come down over his eyes like I don't know what. They just git to look ridiculous, that's what, an' of course he's gonna put 'em on: hats. They tole Mrs. Pike they didn't appreciate him hangin' around there. Here, he couldn't hurt a thing."
"Well! I don't like children that much," said Mrs. Fletcher.
"Well!" said Leota moodily.
"Well! I'm almost tempted not to have this one," said Mrs. Fletcher. "That Mrs. Hutchinson! Just looks straight through you when she sees you on the street and then spits at you behind your back."
"Mr. Fletcher would beat you on the head if you didn't have it now," said Leota reasonably. "After going this far."
Mrs. Fletcher sat up straight. "Mr. Fletcher can't do a thing with me."
"He can't!" Leota winked at herself in the mirror.
"No, siree, he can't. If he so much as raises his voice against me, he knows good and well I'll have one of my sick headaches, and then I'm just not fit to live with. And if I really look that pregnant already—"
"Well, now, honey, I just want you to know—I habm't told any of my ladies and I ain't goin' to tell 'em—even that you're losin' your hair. You just get you one of those Stork-a-Lure dresses and stop worryin'. What people don't know don't hurt nobody, as Mrs. Pike says."
"Did you tell Mrs. Pike?" asked Mrs. Fletcher sulkily.
"Well, Mrs. Fletcher, look, you ain't ever goin' to lay eyes on Mrs. Pike or her lay