and you should know that by now."
"Rocky. A story like this could destroy a man's life. Have you thought of that?"
"And do we want a morally corrupt politician in city council? Wait—let me rephrase that. Do we want another morally corrupt politician in city council?"
Sometimes all Rocky could see of the world was black-and-white newsprint, and this was one of those occasions. "Okay, now that I've blurted out what is probably wrong, I can see I’m going to have to prove to you that Baxter Digby is not having an affair."
"That would just about do it."
"Then that's what I'm going to do. If you put this in the paper, I will never forgive myself."
"Then you'd better invest in a therapist, darlin’," he said as he hung up the phone.
I sent off my article wishing I had never called. If Baxter Digby was having an affair, there was one predictable source that would know.
"Betsy," Ruby Green said as I entered The Best Little Hairhouse in Texas. She put down her movie magazine and came over, putting her arm around me. "Come on and put your feet up. Pearly? Get Betsy a cold drink."
I sat down on one of the chairs in the waiting area. Ruby wore a bright green smock and neon green capri pants. At her neck she wore a flame colored red and orange scarf, and her earrings were two red orange and black macaw parrots. Pearly returned with a can of soda.
"I know this much sugar is probably not good for the baby, but one little Coke isn't going to hurt you." Pearly smiled hunching her shoulders as she shared this little indulgence.
"Sure, a little bit can't hurt me." I had been so careful watching what I ate, especially if I didn’t count my trips to Bennie’s Barbecue. I gulped down the cool drink.
"There you go, honey, that will cool you down. Being pregnant in Texas in the summer is like being at the doorway to hell."
"I know what you mean. I can’t wait for holidays like Christmas and Thanksgiving because I won’t be pregnant anymore and the temperature will finally be below 90.
"So what brings you here today? Come to get your hair done before the delivery?"
I reached up and touched my brown curls, which had grown to shoulder length in the last year. "No, I just wondered if I could talk to you about something…" I paused and leaned closer to whisper in her ear. "…in private."
Ruby’s artfully lined eyes widened. "Oh Betsy," she exclaimed. "Any time, darlin’. You know you're like a second daughter to me."
I looked around the crowded salon. All eyes were now upon me. I might as well have used a megaphone and announced my request up and down Main Street.
"Do you think we could go into your back room?"
Ruby put her hand at my elbow. "Of course." She helped me out of the chair and hustled us to her storage room, a small space with a stained sink and boxes of various kinds of beauty supplies. I started to ask my question about Baxter Digby, but paused when I heard footsteps coming near us.
Hearing them too, Ruby knocked on the door. "We hear you, ladies." I then heard the rustle of feet moving back into the salon. Ruby reached over and turned on the water, the splashing sounds filling the room.
"I saw this once in a spy movie," Ruby said. "Never thought I'd actually find myself ducking in a storage room to pass secret messages." She giggled. "What's up?"
"I was just wondering if you have ever heard anything about somebody having an affair here in town."
"Well, I hear all kinds of stories around here. That doesn’t mean any of them are true." Ruby jumped. "Oh no! Are you saying you think Leo is having an affair?"
"No. No it's not Leo. It's somebody else."
She pursed her lips and furrowed her brow. "Is it you?" she asked in a hushed voice.
"No."
"Because if you were, in your condition, I would be totally re-evaluating my opinion of you. So, Leo's not having an affair, and you're not having an affair and yet you want to talk about somebody doin’ the hootchy coochy. Can you at least give me some
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