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“Even you don’t believe that, Brenna. All I’m saying is that you’ll have to stop running from love at some point.”
“First of all, I’m not running. I’m simply exercising a bit of caution.” That was my story and I planned on sticking to it. Grant emotionally confused me. At dinner the other night, I caught him staring at me with a strange expression on his face. It was close to love, maybe just pure affection, but he looked like a man who cared. Who more than cared.
Yet he said nothing.
“There’s caution, Brenna, which is smart. But what you’re doing is avoiding even having the talk. Just spit the words out and see what happens. Maybe Grant will surprise you.”
I wanted to believe that, but I couldn’t. Luckily, my first customers of the day walked in and provided the perfect distraction. “Gotta go, Jessie May, there’s work to be done. Love you.”
“Good luck. Let me know how it goes.”
The call ended and I lost myself in the dance of my work, shampooing and dyeing hair, clipping split ends, setting dozens of curlers and styling until my fingers cramped. It was a busy day, filled with female camaraderie, gossip and more customers than I knew what to do with.
It was exactly the kind of a day a small business owner in a small town hoped to have. A couple days like this every month and I could stop stressing so much about my business.
By lunchtime the place was empty again, giving me time to refill, disinfect and sweep. There was always sweeping to be done, so much sweeping I rarely had to worry about how my arms looked in a tank top, another bonus of the job. At least that’s what I told myself each time I reached for the broom, which happened at least twenty times a day.
The phone rang and I sighed with relief at the reprieve from the sweeping. “Hello?”
“Brenna?”
The voice was small and quiet but I could still hear her tears. “Mariana? Honey, what’s wrong?” I took it as a win that she hadn’t left school grounds and run straight to the salon, but that only intensified my worry. “Mari, talk to me.”
“I don’t feel good, Brenna. I got sick and the school nurse thinks it’s an allergy but she can’t get my dad on the phone.” The little girl dissolved in tears, which was a testament of how truly awful she felt.
“Put the nurse on the phone, please.”
“This is Nurse Johnson. Ms. McKenna?”
“Yes, that’s me. Do you need me to run out to bodyguard school and get Grant to the school? I’m happy to do it.”
“That would be great but it might be more prudent for you to come and get her since word around Pilgrim is that you guys are dating.”
Word around town? “That’s news to me and I don’t remember Grant putting me on the list as an approved adult to pick up his daughter.”
“He hasn’t even though the principal told him a few times he needed a backup, but this is a small town Ms. McKenna and Mariana needs you.”
“Call me Brenna,” I told her as my gaze scanned the salon to double-check everything was safe for me to leave for a few hours. “I need to close up the salon and then I’ll be there.”
“Thank you, Brenna.”
“No problem.” I locked up the salon, calling Grant twice as I made my way to the car, and getting no answer. I tried calling grant again before I went inside the school to pick up Mariana. “Grant, it’s Brenna. Call me back right away.”
“Brenna!” Mariana’s skin was pale and her voice was quieter than usual, even her hug didn’t hold the same energy as normal. “You came.”
“Of course, I did. You needed me so I’m right here. Ready to go?”
She nodded. “Do I have to go to the hospital?”
I nodded. “Yep. That’s where the experts are and they’ll know exactly how to make you feel better.” It was the last place I wanted to go but this wasn’t about me, it was about a child. “Come on, honey.”
The silent car ride was another sign that Mariana was still feeling awful, but when the questions began, I couldn’t help but smile. “Are you and my dad dating, Brenna?”
“Yes, I think. Maybe. Sort of.” It wasn’t exactly a clear answer, then again I didn’t exactly have a clear idea what was actually going on between me and Grant.
“It’s okay with me if you guys are dating. I love you, Brenna.”
I reached out and put my hand on her shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. “I love you too, Mari.”
“You do?” I nodded. “If you guys stop dating, will you still be my friend?” The worry in her voice was too much for a girl her age and it broke my heart.
