“The queen of cosmetics has returned,” Sophie said. Coming to Ida’s defense, Mavis piped up, “Stop it, Sophie. She’s doing a wonderful job. The customers love her.” “They’re dead, Mavis. Of course they love her,” Sophie teased. “The morticians,” Mavis explained. “She has a way with them.” “Both of you stop,” Toots interjected. No one uttered a single word when Ida entered the kitchen. All three women stared at their friend, looked at each other, then doubled over with laughter. Ida glared at them, her eyes practically bulging out of her head, her breathing as rapid as if she were hyperventilating. “You!” she accused, pointing at Sophie. “I know you had something to do with this! Look at me, I am ruined! It will be weeks before I’m able to show my face in public! How could you?” The three women looked at Ida, their mouths hanging open like three treasure chests. Her normally perfectly coiffed pageboy had been replaced by a pixie cut, and her formerly platinum-dyed hair was bright pink.
