Good Hair Days

By Rebecca Barray and Tobi Doyle

ROAD TRIP!
Paige Fitzgerald used to be just like her Aunt Mary: fun-loving, adventurous and full of life. Today Paige is about to get a surprise. She hasn’t just inherited her beloved relative’s car and favorite hairpiece. Her aunt is back—in literal spirit, for as long as it takes for them to fulfill Paige’s college bucket list—and won’t take no for an answer. The road is calling, the party’s just getting started, and by the end of it all Paige will have everything she ever desired, including the handsome cowboy of her dreams.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Boroughs Publishing Group
• Release date: Dec 3, 2015
• ISBN: 9781942886952

Book preview

ROAD TRIP!

Paige Fitzgerald used to be just like her Aunt Mary: fun-loving, adventurous and full of life. Today Paige is about to get a surprise. She hasn’t just inherited her beloved relative’s car and favorite hairpiece. Her aunt is back—in literal spirit, for as long as it takes for them to fulfill Paige’s college bucket list—and won’t take no for an answer. The road is calling, the party’s just getting started, and by the end of it all Paige will have everything she ever desired, including the handsome cowboy of her dreams.

GOOD HAIR DAYS

Rebecca Barray & Tobi Doyle

www.BOROUGHSPUBLISHINGGROUP.com

PUBLISHER’S NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, business establishments or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. Boroughs Publishing Group does not have any control over and does not assume responsibility for author or third-party websites, blogs or critiques or their content.

GOOD HAIR DAYS

Copyright © 2015 Rebecca Barray and Tobi Doyle

Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved. Unless specifically noted, no part of this publication may be reproduced, scanned, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of Boroughs Publishing Group. The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or by any other means without the permission of Boroughs Publishing Group is illegal and punishable by law. Participation in the piracy of copyrighted materials violates the author’s rights.

ISBN 978-1-942886-95-2

To my Grandaunt Mary who lived her 88 years to the fullest; gave sage advice; and shared wonderful memories with me. —Tobi

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Thanks to my sister Noralynn, who sent me our Grandaunt Mary’s hatbox containing her good hair at Christmas and inspired this story. —Tobi

CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

About the Authors

GOOD HAIR DAYS

Chapter One

Things Are Not What They Seem

Paige Fitzgerald looked at the gold hatbox, a water-stained label claiming the contents to be a Cameo Goddess by David and David, Inc. Her mother’s tightened lips and narrowed eyes confirmed Paige’s fears, and morbid curiosity caused her to lean forward and trail her finger across the top of the round box.

Oh, my god, she didn’t…

With trepidation, she lifted the lid partway and was assaulted by the scents of baby powder and Budweiser burps. She slammed the lid shut, biting back the urge to toss the box off her lap. Paige looked at her mother, dumbfounded.

Helen Fitzgerald shrugged. She left you her car, too. I don’t understand why she left you her wig. If she loved it so much, we could have buried her in it.

You cremated her, Mom, Paige reminded her mother.

Paige avoided looking at the wooden box, polished to a high shine and darkly stained, that sat perched in the middle of the mantel and contained her favorite relative. Aunt Mary had been the one to teach Paige to drive, cheat at cards, and sneak in without waking her parents.

Technically, Mary was Paige’s great-aunt, but Mary felt much younger than her sister, Nora—Paige’s grandmother—so the great got dropped. Aunt Mary had been married three times, yet never had children and chose to shower her affection on Paige and her siblings.

Paige and Mary were each the youngest of their respective broods, and they had similar temperaments. Kindred spirits, Aunty Mary used to say, certainly both had a penchant for mischief.

Paige’s mother handed over Aunt Mary’s brass balls key ring, which held her pharmacy card, house key, and key to the 1982 Plymouth Reliant sedan. The brass-colored paint had worn off the set of testicles in places, revealing the steel underneath. Paige mused, the key ring summed up Mary’s life. The woman had balls, although worn; she’d had a place to live, her independence, and too many ailments to list.

You can leave the car here and your father will sell it, her mother offered.

No, Paige protested, I want it. Her fingers wrapped around the keys, the weight of the brass balls comfortable in her hand.

Paige, it’s not safe, Helen reasoned with a gentle tone.

Mom, it has less miles on it than my car, and we both know Aunt Mary only drove it to church on Wednesdays for bingo.

Her mother smirked. True, but how will you get it back home?

I’ll drive it. I mean, I have all of Christmas break.

From Kansas all the way to California? But what will you do with your plane ticket? Her mother sounded disappointed.

Paige considered that for a moment before answering, I’ll get it refunded. Even if I don’t get the full value, it’ll be cheaper than shipping the car out. Besides, two weeks with my nieces and nephews jacked up on sugar and caffeine isn’t quite the holiday I was looking for. I get enough of rowdy kids at school.

Paige took the keys and the hatbox upstairs to her childhood bedroom, and put them on the top shelf of her closet, safe from all those curious nieces and nephews. She’d recognized the bun from the quick peek. Mary always called it her good hair. An artificial, gray-haired bun with an intricate braid woven around the edge that she’d pinned to her crown on good days. Mary had confided that her best memories came from nights when she’d worn that hair. It was an odd inheritance, but then, Mary had been an odd woman.

Paige closed the closet doors and looked at herself in the mirror.

Aunt Mary had been fully coherent, right up until the very end, but her body had simply given out. And her last words still haunted Paige.

Paige, when was the last time you did something just for you? Don’t wait until it’s too late. Follow your dreams, sweetheart.

Dreams don’t pay the rent, Paige had answered.

Mary had clucked her disagreement. Oh, Paige. I taught you better than that. You have to live without regrets.

Paige squeezed her eyes shut tight. Remembering Mary still brought tears to Paige’s eyes. She wished she could explain why things were so different nowadays. Mary hadn’t understood the world today. Camera phones had changed everything. One regrettable moment could be immortalized forever, or worse, an innocent moment could be twisted.

Mary didn’t understand, and in some regards, Paige was glad for the happy ignorance. Mary had never even owned a cell phone, and her last camera was a chunky 110 film contraption with the blinding magic-cube flash.

Paige reapplied lip gloss and brushed her