dump, but Clydesville, Pennsylvania still has a Wal-Mart,” Derry said unloading her bags on the other double bed.
“What took you so long? I was getting worried.” Shea sat up and peeked into one of the bags. “What’s all this?”
“It’s Mrs. Clean.” Derry rolled her eyes and lifted a bottle of Soft Scrub and Bleach from one of the bags. “Cyn says you can’t have a bath until she cleans the tub.”
“Why? Housecleaning’s already taken care of it.”
“We’re not taking any chances. I don’t want you getting an infection or God knows what. Do you know what people do in these places?”
“No, Cyn, tell us.” Derry handed her the bleach and winked at Shea.
“Let’s just say, a little squirt of Lysol isn’t going to kill everything.”
Derry laughed. “Sperm only lives a few hours outside the body.”
“Gross.” This from Shea.
Cyn pulled back the faded mosaic bedspread Shea had been lying on. “Make fun if you want to, but don’t think they wash the blankets or the bedspreads every time someone checks out. Look.” She pointed to two yellowish smears on the underside of the spread. “Three guesses what this is?”
“Okay, CSI, we won’t use the bedspread. Shea, I guess that means you can’t sleep naked either because the sheets might not be clean.”
“I wasn’t planning on sleeping naked.”
“No?” Derry sighed. “I was and now I can’t.”
Shea stared after her as she dumped the contents of another Wal-Mart bag on the bed. Was she serious?
“Look here, Shea.” Derry held up a box of Clairol. “Move over, Marilyn.”
Shea eyed the box. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Wait ‘til you see the outfit she bought you,” Cyn called from the bathroom.
“You’ll be a new you, Shea.” Derry pulled out a pale pink velour top with matching pants. “See, no green.”
“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with scrubs. They’re comfortable, durable—”
“And ugly.”
“Derry, I wasn’t really serious about the Marilyn Monroe thing.”
“I was.”
“I would look like a freak with bleached hair and freckles.”
Cyn poked her head out of the bathroom she’d been scrubbing and said, “It would look pretty bad.”
“What about Liz?” Derry asked. “I bought black dye to make my hair even darker, but you could use it.”
“Hmmm. Maybe. You wouldn’t mind?”
“Nah, I’ll be Marilyn.” Derry grinned. “I’ve always wondered what being blonde was like. Now I’ll see, just as soon as Cyn finishes sanitizing the place.”
“Why are you cleaning the sink when we’re just going to mess it up with dye?”
“I don’t want you putting your head in a dirty sink.”
“Crazy,” Derry whispered. “I got you some makeup, too, Shea.” She dug in the bag again, pulled out two packs of L’Oreal eye shadow, an eyeliner and mascara.
“Am I that ugly? No wonder Richard found someone else,” she blurted out, burying her head in her hands.
“No, no, honey, that’s not it at all.” Derry stroked her back and said, “I just wanted to play around. If you don’t want it, that’s fine. You’re so pretty but you hide it behind those scrubs. And your eyes are the most magnificent hazel. If you wore just a little shadow and liner, the results would be amazing. But either way, it doesn’t matter to me and don’t you think for one second that you’re responsible for Richard’s behavior.” She rubbed Shea’s back. “He’s a jerk. What kind of man would leave a woman who was pregnant with his child?”
“What kind of man would mess around with another woman while his wife was trying to get pregnant?” Cyn was beside her now, massaging Shea’s shoulder. “It’ll be all right. You’ll see.”
Shea straightened, sniffed. “Thanks, both of you. I guess I’m just a little sensitive. I feel so blah.”
“And we know just how to fix that,” Derry promised. “Let us show you.”
Chapter 7
Clydesville was the kind of town a person stopped
“What took you so long? I was getting worried.” Shea sat up and peeked into one of the bags. “What’s all this?”
“It’s Mrs. Clean.” Derry rolled her eyes and lifted a bottle of Soft Scrub and Bleach from one of the bags. “Cyn says you can’t have a bath until she cleans the tub.”
“Why? Housecleaning’s already taken care of it.”
“We’re not taking any chances. I don’t want you getting an infection or God knows what. Do you know what people do in these places?”
“No, Cyn, tell us.” Derry handed her the bleach and winked at Shea.
“Let’s just say, a little squirt of Lysol isn’t going to kill everything.”
Derry laughed. “Sperm only lives a few hours outside the body.”
“Gross.” This from Shea.
Cyn pulled back the faded mosaic bedspread Shea had been lying on. “Make fun if you want to, but don’t think they wash the blankets or the bedspreads every time someone checks out. Look.” She pointed to two yellowish smears on the underside of the spread. “Three guesses what this is?”
“Okay, CSI, we won’t use the bedspread. Shea, I guess that means you can’t sleep naked either because the sheets might not be clean.”
“I wasn’t planning on sleeping naked.”
“No?” Derry sighed. “I was and now I can’t.”
Shea stared after her as she dumped the contents of another Wal-Mart bag on the bed. Was she serious?
“Look here, Shea.” Derry held up a box of Clairol. “Move over, Marilyn.”
Shea eyed the box. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Wait ‘til you see the outfit she bought you,” Cyn called from the bathroom.
“You’ll be a new you, Shea.” Derry pulled out a pale pink velour top with matching pants. “See, no green.”
“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with scrubs. They’re comfortable, durable—”
“And ugly.”
“Derry, I wasn’t really serious about the Marilyn Monroe thing.”
“I was.”
“I would look like a freak with bleached hair and freckles.”
Cyn poked her head out of the bathroom she’d been scrubbing and said, “It would look pretty bad.”
“What about Liz?” Derry asked. “I bought black dye to make my hair even darker, but you could use it.”
“Hmmm. Maybe. You wouldn’t mind?”
“Nah, I’ll be Marilyn.” Derry grinned. “I’ve always wondered what being blonde was like. Now I’ll see, just as soon as Cyn finishes sanitizing the place.”
“Why are you cleaning the sink when we’re just going to mess it up with dye?”
“I don’t want you putting your head in a dirty sink.”
“Crazy,” Derry whispered. “I got you some makeup, too, Shea.” She dug in the bag again, pulled out two packs of L’Oreal eye shadow, an eyeliner and mascara.
“Am I that ugly? No wonder Richard found someone else,” she blurted out, burying her head in her hands.
“No, no, honey, that’s not it at all.” Derry stroked her back and said, “I just wanted to play around. If you don’t want it, that’s fine. You’re so pretty but you hide it behind those scrubs. And your eyes are the most magnificent hazel. If you wore just a little shadow and liner, the results would be amazing. But either way, it doesn’t matter to me and don’t you think for one second that you’re responsible for Richard’s behavior.” She rubbed Shea’s back. “He’s a jerk. What kind of man would leave a woman who was pregnant with his child?”
“What kind of man would mess around with another woman while his wife was trying to get pregnant?” Cyn was beside her now, massaging Shea’s shoulder. “It’ll be all right. You’ll see.”
Shea straightened, sniffed. “Thanks, both of you. I guess I’m just a little sensitive. I feel so blah.”
“And we know just how to fix that,” Derry promised. “Let us show you.”
Chapter 7
Clydesville was the kind of town a person stopped
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