Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 68074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
“Nice,” I said.
“Everyone could benefit from having a friend like Lindsey,” Macy theorized.
“Everyone could benefit from having a friend like you,” I added. It was really nice to have a piece of family, so far from what I used to call home.
Macy smiled, holding her beer out for a clink. I obliged, and we finished our drinks in silence before Macy excused herself to go to bed.
9
MIKE
Ipulled up outside the Wood Rose Salon. It was the only hair place in town, if you didn’t count the pastor who gave out free buzz cuts to kids before school started. Some people cut their own hair or had their wives or girlfriends do it. I had never been that kind of guy. For just a couple of bucks, I knew I could get a professional cut that wouldn’t make me look like a cheapskate. Plus, the additional feeling of looking good made me feel good, even if it was just for a little.
It was my day off, and without anything better to do, I decided I would fix the mess on top of my head. I walked through the door and stopped. Tammy sat at the reception desk, looking for all the world like she belonged there. In the moment before she saw me, I registered the soft curve of her cheeks and the way her hair fell down to her shoulders. She was wearing a soft pink sweater that was innocent and provocative at the same time. Her feminine aura was even further enhanced by the garment, but I decided it would look even better balled up on my bedroom floor.
She glanced up, and a smile lit her eyes. I didn’t know what I had expected—that I would never see her again? That she would be angry or indifferent? It had only been a couple of weeks, and she looked as pleased to see me as I was to find her.
“Hi,” I said.
“Hi,” she responded, not getting up.
“You work here?”
“I do. Today’s my third day.”
“Congratulations, that was fast.”
“The owner is a friend of my cousin’s,” she said. “Are you here for a haircut?”
“Yeah,” I responded, suddenly remembering. “How long is the wait?”
She glanced at her computer, “About twenty-five to thirty minutes. We could call you back if you want to…go for a coffee or something.”
“I’ll wait,” I answered too quickly. “How are you settling in?”
“It’s great,” she responded. “Everyone’s been so nice. How’s the lumberyard?”
“Same as always.” I dodged the topic. “Are you gonna stay with your cousin or look for your own place?”
“I’m gonna look for my own place. What about you?”
“As soon as I can,” I promised myself. Every day I worked I was closer to some solitude.
Another customer came through the door, and reluctantly I let her do her job. I sat down in the waiting area and watched her friendly banter with the older woman.
“Oh, my dear,” the woman gasped in mock surprise, “what happened to Lucy?”
“I don’t know,” Tammy said. “I’m sorry. I’m new here. Do you have an appointment?”
“Yes, dear,” the woman answered. “Every Thursday at two.”
Tammy scanned her computer screen. “Great. Ava will be right with you.”
When it was my turn, I went with my usual lady. I didn’t know her name, but she always cut my hair. She was tall and fit with long blonde hair, and super friendly to talk to. I think she might have been the owner, because all the other hairstylists seemed to defer to her.
She patted her chair and waited for me to sit down before unfurling a black plastic bib. Centering it around my neck, she said, “Mike? Do you know Tammy, our new receptionist?”
“Yeah,” I said. “We met at the Lady a couple weeks ago.”
“I heard,” Lindsey answered, spritzing my head with water. “She asked about you.”
“She did?” I sat up straight, interested.
“One of my best friends is her cousin, and when she found out that we had both grown up in Singer’s Ridge, she asked if I knew you.”
I frowned. I wasn’t sure what the hairstylist knew, but if she had heard any of the gossip from the rumor mill, it couldn’t be good. It seemed like everyone in town had an opinion about my sobriety. I hoped that she hadn’t shared any of that information with Tammy.
Lindsey continued talking as if nothing were amiss. “I told her I knew you and that you were cute.” She laughed.
I exhaled in relief. Tammy had found the one person in Singer’s Ridge who didn’t know I had spent six months in jail. Thank goodness for small favors. Lindsey took her scissors and comb and began trimming my hair. I glanced in the mirror and found I could see Tammy’s reflection, all the way across the room. She was on the phone, talking to a customer about an appointment or a bill or something.