Killer Cleavers & Cupcakes by Mel McCoy

Author:Mel McCoy
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Published: 2020-03-23T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

After work, Ruth and Loretta returned to their cramped quarters to wash up and change. Just as Ruth had expected, Loretta headed to the bathroom with her clothes. She didn’t mind not having the bathroom, since it was so narrow and made her feel slightly claustrophobic. Loretta seemed to overlook this slight disadvantage, as she preferred to have a nice mirror and lights to put on her face and curl her hair. So far, Ruth felt they were starting to make headway on living together.

Ruth hobbled over to the closet. Her feet were killing her, the pain making its way up her calves. It was a pain she was familiar with and, oddly enough, welcomed, as it had been a long time since she’d been on her feet for hours at a time, working in the kitchen.

She shuffled through the clothes to find a navy-blue blouse and headed for a pair of white capris she had hung in the closet so they wouldn’t get wrinkled. Unfortunately, the pants had taken on a few creases since they had to cram all their clothes into the tiny space. Ruth sighed. There wasn’t much she could do unless she pulled out the iron. Did they even have an iron? Even if they did, did they have a board to work out the wrinkles? She scanned the room for any indications of such commodities. It wasn’t like she’d had a lot of time since she’d boarded the ship to investigate their cabin for such things. In fact, they hadn’t had much time to investigate the vessel itself. The amenities that were featured on the ship were one of the reasons they had all taken the job—it certainly wasn’t the long hours or hardly ever having a day off.

Ruth continued searching the room for an iron but couldn’t find one. Well, a few wrinkles weren’t the end of the world. What else could she do? She slipped the pants on and forced her feet into a comfortable pair of sandals.

After she was dressed, she sat down at the desk with her makeup bag. At the small mirror she used to put on a fresh face, she pulled six bobby pins from her bun and allowed her walnut locks to fall. Just like any woman her age, her hair was thinning a bit, but she couldn’t complain. It was at least easier to manage than using a hot iron to curl it into a puffy white loofah on her head like Loretta. Instead, her hair lay just above her shoulders, straight and soft. Though, often when not working, she’d use a thick iron to give her straight locks some body, but she didn’t feel it was necessary for their mission tonight.

Ruth twisted a tube of “rosy posy” lipstick closed and called out, “C’mon, Loretta!” She tossed the cosmetic into the drawer with a clank and slammed the drawer shut.

“What’s the hurry? It’s not like we’re going to be late or anything. The crew bar is

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