At first, I resisted. But upon remembering all the good times, and the safe feeling I’d once had around her and her family, I hugged back. With vigor. In truth, I didn’t want to let her go. “I had fun today,” I said, wishing we could do it again soon.
“So fun,” she answered.
I threw my hand up in a quick wave and bolted out the front door.
I peeled out of the Laurelwood Shopping Center, only to catch the red light at Poplar Avenue. While drumming my fingers impatiently on the steering wheel, I read the sign in front of Christ United Methodist Church: “Forgiveness opens the door to trust and freedom.”Just one more church telling people how to live their lives,I thought but stared at it anyway. I didn’t trust anyone, except Ron. And I damn sure didn’t have any freedom.
“What am I going to do with you, young lady?” Gertie asked—hands on hips—when I returned without my cologne. She didn’t care about the hairspray. “If you don’t start taking care of yourself, I’m likely to have a fit. Men love perfume. Don’t you even want a boyfriend?”
I stashed my purse under the checkout counter, then slowly turned to face her. “I haven’t met one single boy who interests me except Paul McCartney. And we broke up.”
As my final customer of the day stepped away from the counter, I did a double take at the sight of someone heading swiftly toward me, a large brown paper tote dangling from her grip.
Plopping the bag on the counter, Livy sighed. She combed her fingers through her hair. “It took me forever to find you. You didn’t tell me you worked”—she glanced around—“in the brassiere department.”
I leaned in toward her, shutting the money drawer with my belly. “Cupping ladies’ breasts is not something I brag about.”
She chuckled, then handed over the heavy sack.
A quick peek inside revealed a bushel of albums. “You didn’t have—”
“Oh yes, I did. The thought of you giving up rock and roll won’t leave my brain.”
I noticed Gertie eyeing us from a few feet away, eavesdropping.
“After you left, I remembered more of my favorites. There’s a surprise in there too.”
“A surprise?” I loved surprises.
“You’ll see,” said Livy.
Like Dad’s many apology gifts, this was Livy’s nonverbal olive branch, her I’m-sorry-I-betrayed-you present. Even so, she had spent an exorbitant amount of money. Twenty dollars. Maybe more.
“Gosh, Livy, you spent way too much. I’ll pay you back.”
She shook her head. “Oh no you won’t. It’s the least I can do. These albums will change your life. I swear.”
“Change my life? That’s a big swear.” Truthfully, butterflies swarmed in my stomach as I eyed the stack of records. I was dying to listen to them. But how? Where? When?
Gertie butted in. “Why don’t you girls paint the town tonight? I hear the Bitter Lemon is a hot spot for all you young folk.”
“No ma’am. Not tonight,” Livy told her. “My boyfriend’s calling me long distance at six thirty. I promised him I’d be waiting by the phone.”
“Perhaps he has a friend for little Suzannah here,” Gertie said, rubbing a gentle hand across my back.
“She’d have to move up north for that to happen.” Livy tapped the counter. “Gotta split. Hope you love the records.”
While I watched Livy move toward the escalator, it occurred to me that I’d forgotten to thank her. “Thank you,” I yelled as she was stepping on.
She looked my way, then flashed me the peace sign.
Hope clung to my heart.Maybe life holds a second verse for us,I thought as Livy’s head slowly disappeared from sight.
I turned to Gertie. “Livy’s an old friend. I guess she’s a hippie now.”
“I’ll say.” She pursed her lips in disapproval.
I had no desire to be a hippie or become part of the counterculture. The laid-back, hippie-dippie scene flat out annoyed me.Hippies are too wild,I often thought. Though I had to admit eating lunch with hippie Livy had given me a lift. A big lift. As mad as I’d been at her, spending time with my ex–best friend had boosted my spirts and given me a reason to hope again.
