Chapter Twenty

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"Do you want to keep the wagon at your place or mine?" asked Elaine.

"Oh, I think I should probably keep it at mine, don't you think? It's not as if a wagon can really be concealed very well. Jack might come across it at your house and want to take it on a pre-Christmas spin."

Elaine said, "That makes sense. But for now, how about if we keep it in the car? I'd like to take you to run another errand."

"Wouldn't you rather do your own shopping? It's so close to Christmas."

"You were a tremendous help with the play, Myrtle. I'd like to pay you back, if I can."

Elaine sounded determined, so Myrtle considered the question of where to go. It would be good to have another conversation with Faith and she was in need of a visit to the salon. "I've been thinking I need to get my wash and set."

Elaine said, "You want to get your hair done? Do you have an appointment with Faith?'

"I don't, actually, because I keep forgetting to make one with everything going on. But there's a sign on the door of the Beauty Box that says they take walk-ins. I've always wanted to test that theory."

Elaine paused. "You don't think getting a walk-in slot this close to Christmas would be a problem?"

"It shouldn't be. If they can't accommodate walk-ins, they should take the sign down, shouldn't they?"

Elaine didn't appear to want to argue the point. "I'm happy to take you there and pick you up. Would you like to go now, or have me pick you up later?"

"There's no time like the present. Besides, it's nice and early. They should have plenty of availability now."

However, when Myrtle walked into the Beauty Box, it appeared to be quite crowded with ladies. Even more disconcerting, Faith seemed to be dyeing some woman's hair; a process Myrtle knew could take ages. Cat, the owner, waved to her as she washed someone's hair at the sink.

Faith looked startled when she spotted Myrtle coming in through the door. "Miss Myrtle! Did I mess up? Do we have an appointment right now?"

Myrtle shook her head. "I've forgotten to make one for my wash and set and I'm not sure I can make it through Christmas with my hair this wild. I look like Einstein. Can you fit me in?"

Faith said, "I can squeeze you in while my color appointment is processing. Would you like to take a seat?"

Myrtle did. Unfortunately, she hadn't brought a book with her, so had to make do with a pile of rather ratty-looking magazines. She flipped through them, only stopping when she saw a recipe that seemed tempting. And it claimed it was easy, too. Myrtle surreptitiously tore the recipe out of the magazine and stuffed it into her huge purse.

The Beauty Box had gone all-out in terms of Christmas decorations. It was difficult to determine whether Bo's Diner or the salon had the most, or tackiest, decorations. Someone seemed to have an addiction to snowmen. Myrtle thought it probably wasn't Cat, the owner of the salon . . . it was a bit cutesy for her. There were snowmen and snowwomen of every conceivable variety decorating every nook and cranny of the shop. Myrtle had the feeling that they were chosen because they could conceivably stay up long after Christmas was over.

She was contemplating the longevity of snowmen decorations when Faith came up breathlessly to her. "Ready?"

"Hmm?" asked Myrtle. "Oh, right. Yes, the wash-and-set."

Faith was a wonderful hairdresser, decided Myrtle. She always enjoyed getting her hair washed by her and the scalp massages she gave. And Faith was always thoughtful enough to put a folded towel behind Myrtle's neck at the sink, so she had a cushion there.

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