Farrah Rochon - A Forever Kind of Love

Pecan Drive turned into Main Street after the intersection at Pecan and Shoal Creek Lane. As she cruised down Main, Mya was once again struck by how much everything looked the same. It was as if time had stopped.

Main Street had always been this town’s pride and joy. Back when she’d worked here after school, every proprietor had been required to sign an agreement stating that they would paint their storefronts every year. Littering had been a dirty word, and the Gauthier police department had responded to a call for loitering just as fast as one for shoplifting.

Mya pulled into a slanted parking spot in front of Claudette’s Beauty Parlor. Like the rest of the buildings on Main, Claudette’s looked as if it had been lifted from a painting entitled Small-Town Life.

She headed up the wooden steps that led to the wraparound porch. The beauty shop shared a porch with Lou Cannon’s Dry Cleaning and the Main Street Sweet Shop. Across the street was the pharmacy, post office and Emile’s Restaurant, Gauthier’s version of five-star dining.

Mya walked through the door of the beauty shop and smiled in remembrance as the familiar sounds and smells greeted her.

“Hello, everybody,” she called.

“Well, look who decided to step into my shop.” Claudette Robinson set down a curling iron and stepped from behind a salon chair, embracing Mya in a long hug.

“I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to talk after the funeral,” Mya apologized.

“Don’t you worry about that,” Claudette said, adding an extra squeeze before letting Mya go. “There were so many people at the house, it was impossible to visit with everybody. How is Eloise doing? Did the doctor say when she’d be out of the hospital?”

“She should be home tomorrow. Monday at the latest,” Mya said.

“I knew something was wrong when she didn’t show up for her hair appointment this morning, especially since she knew her new wig was in. She’s been waiting for it for over a month. Deena is finishing it up right now.”

Mya spotted the young girl standing before the mannequin, a comb in one hand, a spray bottle in the other. She spritzed the salt-and-pepper wig and teased the tight curls out of their stubborn position.

“She’s laid up in a hospital bed. You would think she’d have other things on her mind,” Mya said.

“When the new wig she’s been waiting for is at my shop?” Claudette looked at her as if she were crazy. “That New York air has addled your mind, girl. I’m surprised Eloise didn’t order the paramedics to swing by on their way to the hospital.”

“If she were conscious, believe me, she would have.” Mya laughed.

Deena came over with her grandmother’s new wig, and Mya thanked her with a ten-dollar tip.

“You tell Eloise I’ll try to get over to the house once they let her out of that hospital,” Claudette said. “And tell her not to worry about the meeting Monday night. I’ll make sure Margery doesn’t go overboard.”

“You all have a deaconess board meeting?” Mya asked.

“No, that’s on Wednesday nights,” Claudette said. “This is for the civic association. A group of us started it a couple of years ago. Your grandmother is head of the committee for the town’s 175th-year celebration. She didn’t tell you?”

Mya shook her head. “We haven’t had much time to talk about anything outside of Granddad’s funeral.”

Claudette’s smile sobered.

“I’m sure she’ll appreciate you keeping Mrs. Margery in line,” Mya said. “It was good seeing you again, Claudette.”

“You too, honey.” Claudette winked as she returned to her customer.

Mya left the beauty shop and climbed back into the car, careful not to smash the curls as she placed the freshly styled wig on the passenger seat. She put the key in the ignition, but her hand halted when she looked up and saw the pharmacy in the rearview mirror. She got out of the car and, with a quick glance from left to right, crossed the two-way street and took a step back in time.

The same bell that had hung above the door when she’d last walked out of it chimed Mya’s entrance into the pharmacy. She’d worked the entire summer before her senior year, her plans for leaving Gauthier already firm in her mind. She’d saved up enough for first and last month’s rent and a plane ticket out of town.

The store hadn’t changed a bit. Next to the door was a hat and umbrella stand, and directly across from the front entrance was a display of the handmade soaps and lotions Mrs. Landry, the pharmacist’s wife, made in her kitchen. Mya picked up four bars of lemon verbena. God, that scent brought back memories.

She strolled down the aisle, picking up a few toiletries, extra moisturizer and a razor. Since she’d planned to be in Gauthier for only a couple of days she hadn’t bothered to bring most of this stuff.

Mya took her purchases to the counter, but stopped short as she noticed the woman standing behind the counter.

“Shelly?” Mya asked with a tentative step forward.

The woman blinked several times. “Mya? Oh, my goodness. How are you, girl?”

“I’m fine,” Mya said, trying to suppress the shock in her voice. “How are you doing?” Though what she really wanted to ask was “What are you doing?”

Shelly Hunt had graduated valedictorian of their high school class. Granted, it was a class of only seventy-eight students, but even so, Shelly had been destined for great things. She’d received full-ride scholarships to several universities. What was she doing working behind the counter at the pharmacy? Unless she’d bought it? Maybe she’d become a pharmacist?

Please, let that be the case.

“So, did Dr. Landry finally retire?” Mya asked, placing her items on the counter.

“Yeah, right. That man doesn’t know what retirement means.” Shelly laughed. “He’s having lunch over at Emile’s.” She rang up the soap. “I’m really sorry I couldn’t make your grandfather’s funeral yesterday. I had to take my youngest to the doctor. Turned out to be just a stomach bug, but you never know with the little ones. You have any kids?” Shelly asked.

Mya shook her head. “Nope, it’s just me.”

“Sometimes I wish.” Shelly grinned as she handed Mya the bag. “I have three. My oldest is trying out for the varsity baseball team, so if you talk to Corey, tell him to take it easy on my baby.”

“I will,” Mya said. “How old is he?”

“Almost fifteen,” Shelly answered.

“Wow, so you were pregnant when we graduated? I had no clue.”

“No one did, until the truth got too hard to hide.” Shelly chuckled, making a rounding motion over her belly. “I had Devon that September.”

“All this time I thought you’d started at Dillard University the fall after we graduated,” Mya said.

“I tried after Devon was born, but then I got pregnant with Angelica.” Shelly shrugged. “It just never worked out, and eventually they pulled the scholarship they offered me.”

Mya’s heart lurched at the regret that flashed across Shelly’s face. “Well, you know what they say, ‘It’s never too late.’ ”

“Yeah, right.” Shelly waved off the idea. “Can you imagine me in someone’s classroom? I’ll just make sure my little ones go on to college. Besides, Dr. Landry couldn’t run this place without me.”

“You’re probably right. I remember how scatterbrained he could be.” They shared a laugh. “Well, it was great seeing you again, Shelly.”

“You, too.”

By the time she walked out of the door, Mya could hardly breathe, so haunted was she by the fate she’d managed to escape. It was a travesty that someone with so much promise could end up working as the checkout girl at a small-town pharmacy.