Chapter Four
Andie thought Emily was just telling Sadie what she wanted to hear and had no intention of hiring her. With her memory issues it was unlikely Sadie would remember the promise. She was surprised when Emily caught up with her as she was leaving Tall Pines.
“I never go back on my promises, so I would like to hire you to look at some of Mom’s stuff.” Emily’s lips were pinched as if the request physically hurt her.
Andie hesitated. Did she even want to take on a job with such a reluctant client? But something in her gut told her the Thompson house might have exactly what she’d been looking for. There was a slight opportunity to find a treasure, with its history. “Sure. When is good for you?”
Emily’s posture was stiff, her demeanor unfriendly. Frigid waves radiated from her. Andie was not looking forward to working with this woman.
“How about tomorrow morning around ten? I usually visit Mother for breakfast.”
“Sounds good.”
“Fine. See you then.”
Emily walked away, and Andie started to second guess her decision. There better be something really exciting at the Thompson house in order for her to work with that lady.
Andie was still wondering if she’d made a mistake when she walked into Curlz for her trim.
Jules draped the apron over her shoulders and sat her in the chair. “So, what do you think? A pixie like Jane’s?”
“No!” Andie had kept her hair long since grade school and couldn’t imagine cutting it off. She glanced in the mirror at Mary, who was arranging shampoo bottles in perfect alignment on the shelves. If Mary could keep hers long into her seventies, so could Andie.
Jules plucked the curling iron out of its holder and, to Andie’s surprise, started to curl her hair. “Okay, then just a trim for the split ends? How about something to cover the silver? How about a reddish tone? Your hair is dark. It would look nice.”
“I don’t think so. I like it the way it is. And I sort of like the silver. I’m thinking about just letting it grow in naturally.” Unlike Jane’s, Andie’s hair only had a few streaks of gray, and she thought they looked more like highlights than anything. Andie watched as Jules uncurled a lock from the iron, turning it into a subtle wave. It looked kind of nice. Maybe she would think about getting a curling iron and styling it for something different. But why was Jules doing this now? It would be ruined once she washed her hair, and Andie always got it styled at the end, not before it was even washed or cut. “Don’t you usually do the styling after the wash and cut?”
“I just wanted to try it to see if you liked it and wanted me to curl it when I’m done.”
Andie studied the soft waves from the curls on the right side of her face. “It’s different. Might be good for a change.”
“Change is always good.” Jules continued with the curling iron, rolling locks of hair and gently releasing them, then fluffing and curling them to perfection. “I was wondering if you have any Frozen Charlottes in your shop.”
“Frozen Charlottes?” Mary turned from her task at the shelves. “Sounds like a cocktail!”
Andie laughed. “It does, but they’re actually small china dolls that were made in the late 1800s. Highly collectable.” Andie met Jules’s brown eyes in the mirror. “I have some nice ones. Do you collect them?”
“It’s not for me. For my grandmother. She’s sick in hospice at Tall Pines now, and I thought it would cheer her up.”
Jules’s expression was pained, but Andie thought she saw something deeper than just sadness. She had no idea what that was about, but every family had their issues. “Sure. Come over anytime, and I’ll pick out some of the best ones for you.”
The bell over the door chimed, indicating a new customer.
“Hey, Aunt Mary, Sheila, Jules—”
Shane Flannery’s voice stopped mid-sentence as his eyes met Andie’s in the mirror. Suddenly self-conscious, Andie was glad she wasn’t sitting there with sopping-wet hair and looking like a drowned rat. What a stroke of luck that Jules had decided to practice curling her hair… hey, wait a minute. Andie narrowed her gaze at Jules, who had a guilty smirk on her face.
“—Andie, how are you?” Shane recovered from his surprise.
“Great. How about you?”
Shane looked as good as the last time she’d seen him—tall, broad shoulders, intriguing gray eyes, and the dimple when he smiled. Which he was doing now.
“Good.”
Was that all she could think of to say? She found herself tongue-tied because it seemed like Jules and Mary were watching her and Shane as if they were some kind of entertainment. She wouldn’t have been surprised if one of them made popcorn so the two could have something to munch on as they listened in.
Shane turned to his aunt. “Where’s that plug, Aunt Mary?”
