Episode V:

After I'd given my statement and glowered at Morelli and Ranger when I left with Lula, we went to go look into Enzo Platz. The shop was open and we talked to the owner but Platz wasn't there. He hadn't shown up for work and his apartment was empty. His mother hadn't seen him or heard from him. It was a big nothing. So Lula and I went to the mall for emergency surgery.

My usual hair guy wasn't there and there was no way I was going to Lula's instead, out of desperation I sat in the chair of a girl with hair every shade from platinum to brown ending in black from the roots of her hair down.

"Jesus, Ma, you gotta see what she did to her hair."

"Oh, man. What did you do?" She took a whiff and I saw her wince in the mirror.

I shrugged.

"Luce, come give this a snorkel." The mother called.

Luce, whose hair could have had a whole spotlight in i Hairspray /i , was even older than Grandma Mazur. She sniffed. Twitched her face and sniffed again.

"Clariol 45 permanent, it's decayed a few days though. That's why no color. Sister, the box says one time use for a reason."

"Yeah but can you fix it?"

"Rainbow Bright here can fix anything," Luce said, "can't you Julie?"

"'Course I can." She turned to Lula. "If you're going to stay get comfy."

After three hours of rising, masking, moisturizing, and lots of head shaking over the state of my ends and eyebrows I was wishing I'd lost all my hair. It would have saved me a lot of pain and I wouldn't have to catch this Enzo guy to keep my checking account from revolting and eating me alive.

"There," she said and spun me in the chair to face the mirror. It wasn't bad. It was much shorter, a pony tail would be hard for the first few weeks and there were lots of layers to hid the half missing clumps and the curls were all tight and fluffed. My hair rarely looked this good. Usually only when some one else was paid to do it.

"Much better, but I still say my guy would have done better, he would have added some color, pizzazz," Lula said.

"And noting else will fall out?"

"Not unless you mess it up again." She talked me into special shampoo, conditioner, a whole pile of styling products and when I left the shop my credit card whimpered.

On our way out there were these amazing bright green velvet pumps. Lula and I ohhed in chorus. "You gotta have those to go with your new look. And something classy, you know, business like. I bet if you was more business like Morelli and Ranger wouldn't treat you so much like a kid."

She had a point. All I ever wore were t-shirts and jeans. A jean skirt occasionally. Maybe if I wore something more professional they'd take me seriously and stop telling me what to do.

So Lula and I bought a suit. She wanted the lime green and pink pinstripe spandex but I went with an all black pants and jacket suit. Black goes with every thing. And I found an almost matching green tank-top—hey, who was going to notice they were the same exact shade, the shoes were on my feet. No one would even have the close enough together to look unless my beck went out when I touched my toes.

So when we left the mall my credit card was crying loudly and I had to grimace when I put it away. Lula and I picked up McDonald's on our way to my apartment to change.

I fed Rex a French fry. "How do you like my new look? It says responsible-adult-takes-care-of-herself...and-her-hamster." He stood on his hind legs, looked around, twitched his nose, took the fry in his mouth and went back into his soup can. "Rex likes it," I called out to Lula.

"Now we need to go try out our new serious professional look."

To be honest Lula's look wasn't that new and I always wear black, it hides stains and, as I said, it goes with everything.

So we went to my parents house in a section of Trenton where everyone knows you and your mother hears all the gossip about you just after it happens.

"Somebody died," my mother said, crossing herself.

"No."

"You going to a funeral? Must be a humdinger and it must be outa town. I haven't heard anything about a good funeral or wake," said Grandma Mazur.

"No."

"You're announcing your engagement to Joseph at dinner." My mother looked ready to genuflect.

"Definitely not."

Her face fell about two feet. I thought about suggesting plastic surgery and then didn't. It would be a sure way to never get pineapple upside-down cake again. I love pine apple upside-down cake.

"You got a new job. They took you back at the lingerie counter." My mother stubbornly clung to the hope that something she wanted for me would be the reason that I had a new, much more mature look. I hated to disappoint her but even if I lied, which I'm really good at, she would have figured it out and been disappointed anyway.

"No. Mom, nothing's changed. I still work for Uncle Vinnie and I still live alone, and Joe and I aren't getting married."

"What about the Ranger boy, he seemed," and here my mother had to choke out the word, "nice?"

"Mom, Ranger is just a friend."

"A very sexy friend," Grandma Mazur said. "I'd do him."

My mother headed into the kitchen and the bottle of liquor she'd taken to hiding there. If I wasn't careful I was going to drive her into being just like Grandma Mazur. A brief stint of living together in my apartment taught me that Grandma would hide bottles in her closet and drink herself into a stupor if no one took them away from her.