Free Big Stone Gap by Adriana Trigiani

over the picture of some formerly slim, now chunky TV actress.
    “I don’t know why somebody’d let themselves go like that,” says another.
    “ ’Cause she likes to eat,” Tayloe announces. It’s not one bit funny, but all the girls die laughing, because in her circle, Tayloe gets to be funny as well as beautiful.
    “She’s not as fat as Pearl Grimes, though.” A louder laugh.
    I see the top of Pearl’s head disappear behind the medical-supply rack. I wonder if they saw her come in. Are they that cruel? Mrs. Spivey, Mrs. Holyfield, and Mrs. Edmonds enter the store and split up to shop. Three finer Baptist women I’ve never known. They’re also responsible for spreading more information than the town paper.
    “Miss Mulligan, could you please hurry? We’ve got band practice. You know . . . with Mr. Tipton?” Another round of giggles. I guess they heard about Theodore’s car being outside my house till all hours. Now I wish I’d had sex with him, so the joke wouldn’t be on me.
    I shout out from behind the counter, “It’s gonna take a minute, girls.” More sighs and eye rolls. They continue reading the magazines.
    Fleeta comes out from the back. “Be careful with the magazines; we can’t hardly sell wrinkled, used ones. Folks like their reading material virginal. And I can’t blame them, as
they
are paying,” she growls.
    Inspired by Fleeta’s choice of words, I seize my moment. I had a microphone installed in the prescription department because the store is large, and when I get busy I can call for the customer. I blow into the microphone. All the heads look up.
    “Tayloe Slagle, your birth control pills are ready at the prescription window. Tayloe. Slagle. Your. Birth. Control. Pills. Come on over.”
    Tayloe lunges for the window and grabs the white sack.
    “They’re for cramps.”
    “Really.” I ponder this possibility. The fine Baptist women look at one another and then at Tayloe with such disdain, they become a scary tableau on a stained-glass window.
    “Charge it,” Tayloe barks as she sprints for the door. The girls follow her.
    I hear the ladies murmuring in the dental-hygiene section—mission accomplished.
    Fleeta is chuckling, and of course the chuckles turn into a hack. “I’m done tarred of them girls coming in here and reading and never buying. You got ’em good.”
    I pick up a basket of conditioner and head for the hair-care aisle. Pearl is sitting on the floor reading labels on the backs of bottles.
    “Hey, Pearl.”
    “I come down for the acne treatment you told me about.”
    “Then what in God’s name are you doing in hair care?”
    Pearl shrugs. Her eyes are a mite puffy, so I know she heard the majorettes.
    “You wanna help me restock the shelves?”
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    “Fleeta’s quitting on me, so I’m looking to hire somebody part-time. You up for it?”
    “I have to ask Mama.”
    “Go call your mama and ask her if you can start today.”
    “We ain’t got no phone. And I don’t know if she’d let me take a job. How would I get to and from work?”
    “I could take you home after work,” I offer.
    “But I live up in Insko.”
    “I drive fast. How much you want an hour? For your pay.”
    “I don’t know.”
    “Come on, Pearl. You’re gonna do sales. Sell yourself.”
    “Well, I git fifty cents an hour baby-sitting the Bloomer kids.”
    “Not bad. They’re a handful. I guess I gotta do better than Mrs. Bloomer.”
    “How ’bout one dollar an hour?” Pearl looks away, embarrassed to be talking figures.
    “Only a dollar? Hmm. You’re a real tail twister, Pearl. How about three dollars an hour?”
    Pearl’s eyes widen. “Thank you, Miss Ave! Can I start tomorrow?” Pearl straightens her spine, and I swear she grows an inch.
    “You sure can.”
    Fleeta watches Pearl go and lights another cigarette. “Why in holy hell would you hire that girl?”
    “I like her.”
    “She don’t keep herself nice.”
    “You heard her. She lives up in