Grooming Mr. Right Page 3
“The Call to Post” trumpeting through the dark night air made me jump up to see who was blaring the pre-Kentucky Derby theme.
Lights flashed and trumpets blared when an RV with graffiti plastered all over the side barreled down the main drag at the Greyhound Bus Station.
I stood up. This might be the time to go wait inside. You never knew what type of crazies were out at this hour of the night. I was definitely back in Kentucky, which could sometimes be scarier than New York City. I held Iggy so tight his beady eyes almost popped out.
The RV had come to a screeching halt near me, scaring me a little bit.
“Where are you going?” someone shouted at me.
I turned around at the sound of Granny’s voice.
I blinked a couple of times. Was that Granny hanging out of the passenger side window of the creepy RV?
“Luvie, over here!” Granny waved her arms out the window.
“Granny?” I cautiously walked up to the RV, wondering if she had been abducted. “Are you okay in there?”
The RV door flew open and all five-foot-four inches of my feisty granny stood there with her hands on her hips.
“Get in here.” She waved me in. Her signature charm bracelet jingled as she excitedly motioned me closer inside. She smelled of roses and a hint of cinnamon, as if she had just finished working with her prized rose bushes and had made one of her famous homemade apple pies.
I wrapped my arm around her and held on for dear life. Iggy squirmed between us in my other arm.
“Who is this little fellow?” Granny grabbed Iggy and held him at eye level.
“This is Iggy.” I ran my hand down his matted furry head. I had not noticed how much he needed a haircut until now. I was a little embarrassed at how both of us looked. I ran my hands through my hair, trying to look somewhat presentable.
“That name won’t make it around here.” Granny gave Iggy a kiss on the head. He smothered her with kisses.
“Why not?” I chuckled as he continued to love on Granny.
“Iggy? Does that start with an L?” Granny chortled.
Granny was right. Lucia had a thing with the letter L. She insisted on marrying a man, having a daughter, and employing a housekeeper all with names that started with an L.
I took Iggy out of Granny’s hands. “She’s going to have to get over it. Besides, he’s not my dog.”
Eventually, I knew Birdie would return and would want Iggy back. I just didn’t have the heart to leave him or put him in the dog pound. Even if his name didn’t start with an L, it was in my DNA to not ever take a dog to the shelter.
One enduring quality Lucia did have—she was a big contributor to the local humane society. She’d been the chairwoman for as long as I had been alive. Lucia loved animals.
“Howdy.” A man, a scary looking man, jumped up from the driver’s side of the RV. He stood about six-feet tall, wore blue jeans, a v-neck white tee and hippy sandals. “I’m Charlie.”
Charlie held out his hand and I couldn’t get past the skull and crossbones tattoo on his forearm.
“Luvie, be a good southern girl,” Granny scolded me, as she smiled at him. She took Iggy from me and set him down. He ran around the RV sniffing every single corner.
“Is this your ride?” I shook Charlie’s hand, stepped up into the RV and looked around. It wasn’t much of an RV. It had a sink, a table, and a couple of fold-up chairs.
“Charlie is a retired graffiti artist from California.” Granny put her hand on Charlie’s arm like he was more than just a friend. “He moved here to be near his kids. He lives at the Home Of The Near Dead, too.”
We all thought Granny had lost her mind when she sold her two-thousand acre horse farm to a wealthy billionaire from Saudi Arabia without telling anyone; then moved herself into an upscale retirement community that she jokingly called the “Home of The Near Dead.” Granny was anything but near dead. She had more energy than I did.
“Charlie was over watching a movie when you called. He had his keys handy, so we didn’t waste any time.”
“I’ve heard a lot about you.” Charlie spoke to me but looked at Granny. There was some sort of spark between them, making me pause as I watched him help her to the passenger seat. “You ready to roll?”
“I am.” I took a seat on one of the fold-up chairs and secured Iggy in my lap.
“I’m taking you to my house,” Granny shouted over her shoulder. “You can deal with Lucia in the morning. You look like you need a good night’s sleep.”
Granny was right. Just like always.
Chapter Five
I thought it was going to be hard to sleep at Granny’s with all the crap running through my head. I was clearly wrong. As soon as my head hit the goose-down feather bed that my granny had owned and refeathered several times over the past years, I was out.
The next morning the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted under the guest bedroom door; a much welcomed pick-me-up. Something was going to have to get me up and at ’em to have the courage to face Dad and Lucia.
Iggy wasn’t in the room with me. I peeled back the warm quilt and pulled the hot pink Juicy sweat suit from the duffle bag. I grabbed a ponytail holder out of the bag and quickly threw my hair up.
“Good morning, sleepyhead. You slept more than eight hours.” Granny greeted me from the family room when I walked down the hall. “You must have been tired.”
“I guess just being here makes me happy and not so stressed.” I rolled my head around on my shoulders. Just thinking about leaving Granny’s house and going home made the tension start to build back up. And to think that only twenty-four hours ago I truly thought I was going to be sitting on my new penthouse balcony sipping coffee with a new man in my life. Not sipping coffee with my granny and a four-legged little man named Iggy.
“From the looks of it, you have a lot of explaining to do.” Granny had Iggy in her lap and was brushing his hair. He squirmed. Granny held him tight. She was determined to get his tangles out. She pointed the brush toward the kitchen. “There’s a fresh pot of coffee. Go get a cup and we can talk about what’s going on before we head to breakfast with my friends. But Iggy can’t go looking so…” She searched for a nice word, and then whispered, “matted. Ugly.”
“I’ll grab that cup of coffee, and then I will tell you everything.” I went into the kitchen and found an apple pie on the stove. “I knew you smelled like cinnamon last night.”
“Only for my girl.” Granny continued to fight with Iggy.
After I poured my coffee, I searched Granny’s kitchen drawers for scissors. Of course, she didn’t have a junk drawer because she didn’t believe in junk, but I did find a pair in an old sewing kit that was sitting on the old sewing machine table in the corner of the family room. Iggy’s tangled hair was not going to come clean with a brushing. It was time to cut the mats out.
I set the cup on a coaster before I took Iggy from Granny. I took the scissors and clipped him the best I could. He didn’t mind the scissors as much as the brush. Working on Iggy helped me concentrate while I told Granny what had happened in New York.
“You do know that when one window closes…” Granny was going to spout off one of her positive southern sayings that were supposed to make me feel better.
Supposed to.
I interrupted her. “It’s our responsibility not to jump?” That was exactly how I felt. Like a failure.
“Luvie,” she said with disappointment plastered all over her face. “You aren’t going to let some little old job stop you from being happy, are you?”
“I was happy. I loved that job.” I protested, though at times I had wished I had a little more time for myself and a love in my life. I held Iggy in the air to get a good look at him. My scissoring job was shaping up pretty well. He was starting to look like a real Yorkie.
All those times Lucia had dragged me to St. James Pet Store, the largest pet store chain in the country, to get the SPCA dogs groomed, might have paid off after all. Lu
cia always said that if I paid attention I might learn something, and I guess she was right.
“You didn’t love that job. You wanted a different job.” Granny went into the bathroom and came back out with a small barrette. She gathered Iggy’s hair on the top of his head and clipped in the barrette, making the cutest hair waterfall that you’ve ever seen. Just like a celebrity Yorkie.
I hated it when Granny was right, but then again, she was always right. Even about the cute barrette. Iggy was precious; there was no denying it.
“You just might have a calling for this.” She pointed to Iggy and got up.
“What? Taking care of dogs?” I laughed. In case she hadn’t noticed, I wasn’t doing a very good job of taking care of myself, never mind dogs.
“No, dog grooming,” Granny said over her shoulder and grabbed her bag off the entryway table. She waved for me to come on. “I’m starving. Bring the little guy.”
I didn’t protest. I was starving too, and I knew all of the elderly people in the community would love Iggy.
I was right. Iggy was the highlight of breakfast. Charlie met us there and proudly took Iggy around to show everyone so I could eat. They were like proud grandparents.
“Luvie even cut his hair,” Charlie bragged on my scissor skills. He really was a nice guy and I could see why Granny was friends with him.
“So are you and Charlie…?” I wagged a piece of maple sausage in the air between them before I stuffed it in my mouth.
“We are good friends.” Granny took her fork and cut her omelet, never once looking at me.
“Do Mom and Dad know about Charlie?” That was the million-dollar question.
“What I do is none of their business.”
“So that means no?” I grinned. Lucia would die if she knew Charlie was sweet on Granny and vice-versa. Lucia had a way of talking Leonard into believing that anyone who wanted to be Granny’s new “friend” was only after her because of her money.
“We are here to discuss your future, not mine. Mine is pretty much over.” Her brows lowered and drew together as she looked at me. It was a sure sign to stop pestering her about Charlie.
“I don’t have a future.” The sausage I just swallowed felt like it was going to come back up. The thought of telling Lucia and Leonard about having been fired, and needing to find a new job made me nauseous.
“You absolutely do have a future. If not in fashion, why not in pet grooming?” Granny asked with a straight face like she was serious. “You might be able to make some of those cute outfits for dogs like you did when you were a kid.”
Granny reminded me of all the clothes I had sewn for my poor dogs and made them wear when I was a kid. Iggy would look cute in a little sweater. What Granny said was food for thought. I turned around in my chair and watched all the people pass Iggy around, admiring how cute his new haircut looked.
“Evie, this is my granddaughter, Luvie.” A short plump woman walked over with a little pill-box hat nestled on top of her short grey hair. I had to say, Granny was much more stylish than anyone here was. I glanced over at Granny as she talked to her friend. Her brown eyes glistened as she bragged on me. I loved how she had let her hair grow out to her shoulders. She used to have beautiful thick red hair like mine. As she got older, her hair darkened, eventually turning grey. She was still beautiful.
When people would make fun of my hair color, Granny always made me feel better, telling me that redheads were the more successful breed. Maybe I should remind her of how successful I had become.
“Luvie?” Granny tapped the table with her perfectly manicured nails, and her bracelet jingled catching my attention. “Evie was talking to you.”
“I’m sorry. I’m a bit tired from the bus ride.” I was getting so good at making up excuses.
“Do you have time to put my little Bernie on your client list?” Evie asked.
“My what?” Confusion wrapped around my brain.
“Bernie could stand to use a little trim, and I’d rather pay someone I know than the groomer I take him to now.” Evie waited.
“I don’t have a groomer’s…” I was going to say license until Granny interrupted as she always did.
“She can do Bernie tomorrow morning. Who else needs their pets bathed and groomed?” Granny took out a slip of paper from her purse and jotted down names and times. One by one, Granny’s friends filed one behind the other to sign up. Bathing and grooming—neither of which I knew how to do correctly nor the way a real groomer did.
We stayed in the retirement community dining room until we had a full sheet of appointments.
“I guess we had better go. I have to face them sometime today.” I didn’t have to say my parents’ names for Granny to know whom I was talking about. My stomach gurgled.
“See, you do have a talent and a job. Tell them that. It will lessen the blow of hearing you were fired.” Granny proudly handed me the piece of paper as we walked back to her condo.
“Granny, you are forgetting one little detail.” I held the list up, gripping it in my hand. “I don’t have a groomer’s license.”
“They don’t know that.” Granny unlocked the door and walked down the hall to her office. She sat down, opened her laptop and typed away as I looked around the room with wall to ceiling bookshelves that held all the classics; books and a desk with a laptop—a perfect office. “Here.” She tapped at the screen. “Online classes and you can start today.”
I glanced at the screen and saw the cost before I shook my head and laughed.
“What?” Granny asked.
“You forgot about one thing.” I rubbed my finger and thumb together. “Money.”
“Luvie Beiderman, don’t you worry your pretty little head about the money. Did you forget I’m a wealthy old woman?” Gloria Beiderman had started the Beiderman fortune by training race horses that had gone on to win the Kentucky Derby and Belmont Stakes, among other prestigious races. It was assumed and expected that my dad would take over when Granny retired. And he did. The same was thought of me but obviously, I didn’t follow in the Beiderman footsteps. “Charlie and I will pick you up tomorrow by nine a.m. I’ll have the coffee on. Now, get on outside and water my roses,” she ordered.
Granny did give me something to think about.
There was no sense in arguing with Granny. It was a lesson I had learned a long time ago when Lucia and Granny got into a fight over where I was going to school. Lucia wanted me to go to the preppy private school, while Granny wanted me to go to public school.
Granny’s argument was that the kids in public school got a taste of the real world. They learned how to deal with all people, not just the wealthy ones. Lucia’s argument couldn’t hold water next to Granny’s.
Thank God, Granny won. Just like she always did. Lucia had never crossed Granny since.
Granny’s watering can was underneath the wrought iron bench she had nestled in the rose garden that she used for a decoration as well as a seat. The roses lined both sides of her walkway, giving the condo eye-popping colors of red, white, pink, and orange. They were each perfectly manicured the way Granny liked. She took pride in everything she touched, and I had a feeling the dog-grooming endeavor would be no different.
The sweet aroma of the beautiful garden swirled around my nose along with a couple of bees while I filled the watering can from the spigot. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. Happy memories of working with Granny in her garden sent a peaceful chill throughout my body.
With the can full, I started to water the roses from the top of the garden and worked my way down, exactly the way Granny had taught me.
Being home might not be so bad after all. I carefully touched one of the orange roses that was starting to open from the late morning sun, but was startled when I heard a squeal coming from the driveway.
“I can’t believe it’s you!” My long-time best friend, Vivian, yelled as she climbed down out of the old farm truck.
I stood up. A big, fat smile crossed my face. Vivi
an Westwood hadn’t changed a bit. Her long brown hair was pulled up, her work jeans were dirty like she’d been rolling around in a barn stall, and her signature cowboy boots looked like she had been stomping around in some cow patties.
“Yay! Yay! Yay!” She ran and gave me a big old bear hug.
“No!” I cringed at the thought of getting my sweat suit dirty, but gave into the embrace anyway.
Water from the watering can poured out of the spout and all over our feet. We giggled just like we were kids again.
“You are filthy.” I pulled away and curled my nose.
“Job uniform, Miss Fancy,” she snickered. “And I love it.”
Vivian loved her job and that was why she worked for my dad as his head horse trainer and not me.
“How did you know I was back?” I set the watering can down and took the opportunity to get another hug. Vivian and I had been through it all together.
She had nothing growing up and I had everything. We balanced each other out. She went on every family vacation with me.
Granny walked out with a tray holding three tall glasses of her delicious sweet tea. Vivian and Granny sat down in the rocking chairs on the small porch, and I continued watering where I left off.
“You didn’t bother with calling me, so Gloria texted me,” Vivian said between drinks. “She said you were in town for good and I had to come and get you.”
“I said you were fired and needed a ride home.” Granny corrected Vivian and gave her the stink-eye. Granny never told a fib or let a little white lie hang around.
“Fine.” Vivian shrugged. “I was trying to soften the blow. Regardless, I’m here to get you.”
“Get me?” I laughed. “Granny, are you throwing me to the wolves already?”
Granny was smart. She wasn’t about to go near Lucia or Dad when they found out I had been fired. I could hear Lucia now: “I told you not to get that fluffy degree and move to New York City.” Lucia was good at reminding me how I should have gotten an Equine degree and taken over the family business.