Page 76 of Saints & Sailors

Angela’s face twisted up as she styled her client’s hair with a rat tail comb. She’d taken the woman’s thick hair and straightened it to where it was fine. The world of Angela’s salon was very much new to me in a sense. Watching the women create magic in each chair fascinated me. From straightening and braiding to cutting and curling, there was so much to do with Black-American hair I admired more and more. It made me think of home, of my mother’s best friend Joyce and the many ways she could style her locs—even to the point of taking the long strands and managing to effortlessly place them under a wig when she was dressing up as a celebrity for a costume party.

“If you don’t leave my son alone, Jo,” Angela warned sternly.

This got a cackle out of Ms. Josephine.

Angela was protective of Dreux, and he seemed to be just as loyal to her. It was admirable.

My heart throbbed as my eyes glided to where my phone sat on the front desk in front of me.

The door to the shop opened and Dreux breezed in. The sight of her son caused Angela to lighten up, going from a murky night sky to a bright morning.

“Hey,” she greeted him with a friendly smile.

Dreux went and kissed her cheek, causing the women in the room to swoon in a chorus of “awws.”

And then he looked at me, even more, he came over to where I sat at the front desk. He pressed his hands down on top, resting his weight into them, his muscles bulging. “How’s it going?”

They were looking at us, making me nervous and all too aware we were not alone.

“It’s been busy,” I said. “Hectic.”

“You haven’t seen a weekend,” Dreux teased. His dark eyes appraised my books. “Studying?”

“Nothin’ else to do,” I said.

He glanced at the ceiling and back to me. “Wanna head up to the roof and do homework?”

Immediately my gaze cut to where his mother hadn’t stopped watching us, unsure. Gone was her easy spirit and little joy at Dreux’s arrival, completely replaced with a steely guard.

“Um, can I go on break?” I was brave enough to stare her in her eye, to take whatever response she gave me.

Angela’s attention swung from Dreux to me, her hesitation palpable. In the end, grudgingly, she said, “Go ahead.”

Dreux was oblivious to his mother’s coldness as he gathered my books for me.

“I got it,” I told him.

But this was Dreux, he collected my things anyway.

Nervously, I tucked some hair behind my ears, sweeping a glance to the left of me to the women in the room. Some were back to work. Ms. Josephine was offering me a gentle smile and a nod of approval, while Angela’s eyes were on Dreux as he handled my books.

I followed Dreux out of the salon and over to his car where he grabbed his school bag. He held on to my things as he led me over to the barbershop. Inside, a football game was on and the couple barbers around weren’t paying it no mind as they argued over something loudly.

“Get outta here with that shit, Rick!” one man with a clean, bald scalp said as he lined up some boy in his chair.

The officer in the room, Rick St. Julien, smirked, easing back in one of the chairs that lined the length of the wall on the waiting side. “I’m tellin’ you, it’s either draft Williamson, or bring in Banks. We do that and the Falcons gettin’ a ring next year.”

Another barber, one who was simply seated in his chair, wasn’t convinced. “Banks ain’t comin’ to no Atlanta. I don’t know what you talkin’ ’bout.”

Dreux cast a look back at me. “This is all they talk about.”

All at once the men in the room turned our way, noticing us—me. Rick St. Julien was older than Dreux, but you couldn’t tell by his youthful appearance. Whereas Dreux was tall, with toffee-brown skin, and a strong build from his baseball games, Rick was tall, slim, and brown skinned. He was the third St. Julien male I’d met, and it was safe to say that their gene pool was a force to be reckoned with, as all the men were good-looking.

Dreux pointed to the barber with the client, Antwon, and to the one in the chair, Grady, and finally to his cousin, Rick.

Each man lifted a hand to greet me or nodded in acknowledgment.

“We’re just going up to the roof to study,” Dreux informed the men as he cut down the center of the room, leaving me to follow his lead.