I dustedmy hands outside the salon. I had been determined to do this right for her, and I felt pretty damn good about how that all went, if I did say so myself. I glanced down at my toes, wiggling them to admire the shine of the nails and the soft skin. I wobbled a little, unsteady in the flimsy foam temporary flip-flops they gave me, my boots tucked under my arms and my jeans still cuffed around my calves, wet up to the knees.
I beamed at Sophie, who was looking down at her own feet. They were pretty little things too. And her ankles and calves. I felt like an old-timey scoundrel the way I had been noticing her lower legs. Sophie was just nice to look at, with all her soft edges and smooth skin. She didn’t say much or smile a lot, so when I managed to make her do either of those things, it made me feel extra special, like that specific Christmas cookie Mom only made once every few years.
“That color looks good. I did a good job,” I said, gesturing to her toes.
“Yeah, and it won’t keep me up at night if the blankets fall off my feet.”
That wasn’t the first time she made me chuckle unexpectedly. She was sneaky with her dry humor, flicking my funny bone when I least expected it. It reminded me of the sharp wit that had struck me when I read the list, before I knew who she was. The two fuzzy images of this woman were lining up to make one complete image. And I enjoyed the whole picture.
Without discussing it, we began to walk in the direction of the town square.
“I still think you should try that orange for spring,” I said.
“Yeah. And I can go barefoot hunting and still be safe.”
“You’ll just have to walk on your hands.”
“It’s as likely as me hunting,” she said with a lift and drop of her shoulder.
We shared a smile. And score, another point for me. Look at her, out and about, having a great time right here with me. I couldn’t wait to see what was next.
“I wasn’t kidding about getting the rest of the crew to do this. I’m going to suggest this for the next guy’s night,” I said.
“Now that image should go in next year’s calendar.” She tugged her massive bag higher up her shoulder. “I can see you all lined up, wrapped in soft robes, with your massive man feet and bulky legs overflowing from those dainty little tubs.”
“Massive?”
“Well. In comparison to their usual clientele, I imagine.” Her face had turned away, so I wasn’t able to tell if that had been a flirtation. I liked to think that it definitely was.
Today was the most fun I’d had in a long time. Helping Sophie was going to be way easier than I thought. Plus, I got to hang around someone pretty, smart, and funny. This was a win all around.
It was a nice late-September day; the sun shone bright, and I felt bursting with possibility.
We’d come to a stop near where we first met up. She flicked a look side to side and then behind her. She tucked her hair behind her ear as she turned back, not quite meeting my eyes. I might have been staring at her with my excited face on. Levi had mentioned that it could be a lot sometimes.
“That’s one item off your list already,” I said proudly.
“Yeah. I think I’m going to need at least a week of hiding under my weighted blanket to recoup.”
Oh, her and her exaggerations.
“It wasn’t that bad.” I tugged off my hat. “Was it?”
“No. It wasn’t.” She sucked in her lips and looked again at her pretty toes, wiggling them like I had to see the shimmer. “But it was a lot for me.”
For the first time since leaving the salon, I noted the strain around her mouth, the hunch of her shoulders, and the heaviness under her eyes. She looked like she just hiked the Cozy Creek Long Trail.
The smile started to melt off my face. I’d thought it had gone well. I thought I freaking nailed it.
“The water was really hot. And she trimmed my nails too short. Down to the skin and it burned,” she admitted when I was quiet too long.
We looked again at her feet, where the soft skin was still more pink than the rest of her body, from just below her knees and down.
She added, “I did not care for those hot stones; it felt like my skin was going to melt off.”
I could feel my eyebrows pinched together as she spoke. “Why didn’t you tell them to stop?” I asked with incredulity.
She waved away the thought like it was absurd. “I didn’t want them to think they were doing a bad job. Plus, it’s just easier togo with the flow. I didn’t want to upset the people with the tiny scissors cutting my skin.” She said it with an attempt at lightness but fell short.
