“So how did you and Tank meet?” I asked after I’d washed her hair and had started in on her cut.
“At the DMV, of all places.” She laughed. “I had to get my picture retaken, and the guy was being a total creep and trying to hit on me. Tank intervened. For a minute, I thought he was going to knock the guy out. He was so huge and imposing, but I don’t know, I just felt safe with him immediately. I asked him out for a beer, and that was it.”
“You asked him, huh?” I teased.
“He hates when I tell it that way, because we both know I just beat him to it, but that’s the way it happened.”
“Good for you.”
“Well, I didn’t drive across the country in a death trap and then almost die from the flu along the way, so I think in terms of gestures, you take the cake, my friend.”
I groaned. “It so isn’t a death trap. And not the way I intended that to go.”
“Think of the story, though. Your kids will love it.” She beamed.
I had to smile allowing myself to think about having a family with Ruston. “Yeah, I bet they would.”
“Holy crap, you are a magician!” she exclaimed an hour later, after I’d finished her cut and blow dry.
“I’m glad you like it.” I smiled, pleased with the result myself. I’d kept the length so Tank wouldn’t kill me but had given her layers that updated her look. “You make my job easy though. You have gorgeous hair.”
“That’s it, we’re going into town. Joanie has to see what you can do,” she declared. “Then I’m buying you a beer. Maybe Lanie and Ava are around and want to meet us. Ava usually gets off work around now.”
“You’ve got a deal,” I agreed easily, eager to explore and to spend more time with my new friend.
We piled into her SUV and made our way into town, with me paying attention to the route she took, different from Ruston’s, wanting to familiarize myself with the different ways to get around.
When we pulled in front of a salon on the main strip, I looked at it curiously. It was clearly an older building, but well-kept with a sign that read Joanie’s Salon in bold letters.
“Original, I know.” Dallas rolled her eyes good-naturedly as she led me inside the salon, empty save for one older woman with platinum-blond hair and bold red lips.
“Dallas, honey, how are you?” she chirped, getting up to wrap Dallas in a warm hug. “And is this the woman who’s captured our Ruston’s heart?” She beamed, wrapping me in the same hug as though we’d known each other for years.
I instantly warmed to her and guessed it was a frequent reaction.
“That would be me.” I smiled as she looked me over.
“You are gorgeous, honey. And look at this hair,” she marveled.
“Thank you.” I blushed as she turned an eye toward Dallas.
“And what is this, you been stepping out on me?” she demanded as she seemed to notice Dallas’s haircut for the first time.
“Well, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” Dallas admitted. “Grace cut it—she’s really fantastic. The girls and I were thinking you two should meet. Maybe there’s an opportunity for you to work together, and if not, I don’t know two people who love to talk hair and beauty more.” She smiled hopefully.
Joanie looked shocked for a moment, clearly not expecting that, before turning thoughtful. “Well, honey, no doubt you have talent.” She addressed me while waving a hand toward Dallas’s hair. “But I’m not sure I have the foot traffic anymore to warrant taking a new girl on,” she shared dejectedly.
And suddenly, I found myself wanting to help her and work with her. Here was a woman who clearly loved what she did, but despite her charm, her approach was likely out of date.
This was sensitive terrain that I needed to navigate carefully.
“I completely understand,” I replied gently. “I certainly wouldn’t want to impose. If it’s something you wanted to try out, I could rent a chair from you. That way, all the risk is on me,” I offered.
She appeared to consider that. “Well, I have to admit, I’d love some company. I get bored as hell in here all day.” She gestured with a manicured hand toward the empty space. “And having someone to have a cocktail with to close the day would be fun. You do drink, don’t you?” she demanded.
I had to fight a smile. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Oh hell, you must have caught me in a generous mood, or I’m just desperate, because I’m willing to try it out on two conditions,” she declared, and at my nod continued, “I get to pick the music, and no mullets leave this shop. They’re all the rage again, and over my dead body do I allow this shop to be part of that nonsense.”
