Free Mama Gets Hitched by Deborah Sharp Page A

porn. A pop singer out in public with no undies. A famous actor caught in a racist rant. I tuned in to the beauty shop chat again.
    “I should have known that guy was related to C’ndee,” D’Vora was saying. “She’s so glamorous!”
    “That’s a nice word for it,” Mama said dryly. “But I have to admit, I do like that nephew. Maybe he can be a backup beau for Mace, once she screws things up completely with Carlos.”
    “Hello? I’m sitting right here!” I said from behind my People .
    Mama clapped a hand over her mouth. My presence in the shop was so unnatural, I’m sure she’d forgotten I was there.
    Ignoring her editorial comments on my love life, I said, “I’ll give you the fact Tony is charming …”
    “And gorgeous,” D’Vora chimed in from near the shelves.
    “Right,” I agreed. “But doesn’t it seem a little strange he and his aunt have those plans for a new catering business? I mean, Ronnie Hodges isn’t even in the ground yet.”
    Betty was already snipping at the wet hair of her next appointment, a woman I didn’t recognize. Scissors flying, she added her two cents’ worth. “Everybody can agree it was horrible what happened to Ronnie, girls. But you have to strike while the iron is hot. That’s the business world.”
    None of us had anything to add to that. The break in the conversation gave me time to think, not for the first time, that I was happy I worked mostly in the animal world.
    Expertly navigating the lull, Mama steered the talk to her favorite topic, my marital prospects. “Betty, you’ve got to do something extra special with Mace’s hair for Saturday. Weddings are fertile fields for romance. Maybe Carlos will pop the question once he sees Sally and me tying the knot.”
    All of a sudden, I was fed up. The dresses. The hair. Mama’s constant meddling. Not to mention the assumption that Carlos was the one dragging his feet. I slammed my People onto the purple chair beside me.
    “Let’s put aside for the moment that seeing you get married for the FIFTH time might have just the opposite effect on Carlos, Mama. And on me. Have you given a bit of thought to the fact I might want to be certain things are right between us before I run off to the altar? I mean, I don’t want a long string of ruined marriages, like some women I could mention.”
    Mama’s hand flew to her throat. She looked at me like I’d put my boot to her three-tier, buttercream-frosted wedding cake. No one else said a word. All of us knew which woman in the shop had a history of ruined marriages. I felt my face getting hot. My stomach churned around a leaden ball of biscuits and sausage gravy. Funny how you dream of saying just what you want to say, but it never feels as good as you think it will once it comes out.
    The customer in Betty’s chair stepped into the strained silence and saved me. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop earlier,” she said quietly. “But I heard y’all talking about C’ndee Ciancio, and I wondered if you knew she’d been staying at Darryl’s Fish Camp, out by the lake.”
    Mama and I both burst out laughing at the same time, which felt good. Almost normal.
    “C’ndee? At a fish camp? That’s like hearing Madonna’s been dishing up chili dogs at the Dairy Queen,” I said.
    “Well, she was. I know, because I’m renting one of the cottages out there. Just until I find something better.”
    I took in her cheap tennis shoes and bad teeth, and remembered how she’d told Betty she’d take just a haircut today: No shampoo, no blow dry, and no color. She had the look of hard times, and it’d probably be a good long while before she found “something better” than that rundown cottage at the fish camp.
    “C’ndee could have been out there. Stranger things have happened, Mace.” Mama’s tone to me was snippy, but she smiled encouragingly at Betty’s customer. “What’s your name, honey?”
    “Luanne. The only reason I mention C’ndee is because she’s gone now,