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“We all have our cars fixed at the shop. It’s no big deal.”
Heather’s eyes were still on me as she raised her hand, and the group quieted.
“How the hell could you be a burden when you gave my son exactly what he’s always wanted?” she asked, tilting her head to the side. “That boy has been a caretaker since he was born. Once, when he was fussing for like an hour straight and Tommy was at work, I started to cry. You know what he did? Stopped freaking crying. Just like that. I was upset, so he stopped to make sure I was okay. He wasn’t even a year old. He’s been taking care of his siblings and me since before he started school—and after that, he found you and you joined that little circle.”
I gripped my hands together so tightly that my knuckles were white as Farrah stopped touching my hair.
“Since he was a kid, he hasn’t ever wanted anything but you. My other boys, they’re screwing around, sowing their damn oats—but not Micky. Hell no. He found what he wanted when he was young and that’s never wavered. You showing up with Rhett was just the cherry on top of the sundae that he’s been waiting years for. Don’t give up that gift because you’re worried that he’s going to be disappointed or feel like you’re aburden—I’m his mother, and I’m telling you that’s not even possible.”
“Let him carry the weight for a while,” Callie said softly. “He’s got the shoulders for it—and believe me, there will come a time when you’ll have to carry it for him.”
“And I hate to be an asshole, but you’re fired,” Charlie announced. “If working is making you take a weed whacker to your hair, it’s not worth it.”
“Don’t fire me,” I choked out, horrified.
“Fine, I’m not firing you,” she said with a laugh. “I’m laying you off. Until I get that machine replaced, that cart is closed anyway and I’ve got enough people to cover the others.”
“We’ve all been in your shoes one way or another,” Molly said, shooting me a sweet smile. “We get it. Just… find a different coping mechanism. Your hair’s really bad.”
The group started laughing and even though I could feel my eyes welling up with tears, I had to join them. They were incredible. Every single one of them sat there with no judgment, listening to me boo hoo about my life when I knew quite a few of their stories were much worse than mine. Rose had been kidnapped with her husband and had to leave him behind wounded, in order to get help. Lily had been blind for most of her adolescence because of a shooting that the older generations had lived through. Each story was more terrifying and gut-wrenching than the last, but still, when they’d heard that I was at Callie’s and something was wrong, they’d come running.
“I need to find a job,” I choked out, making them laugh again. “Anyone have any leads?”
“You don’t need a damn job,” Farrah said, forcefully setting my head back in the position she wanted it in. “Stay home and take care of Rhett—”
“And Micky,” Lily called out with a laugh.
“And get your feet under you,” Farrah continued like her daughter hadn’t spoken. “You got your whole life to work. Settle in for a bit. See how you feel in a couple of months.”
“That’s not really fair to Michael.”
“It is so weird hearing you call him Michael,” Kara said with a snort.
“Well, it makes it easier to know who she’s talking about,” Rose said, smiling. “We’ve got your dad, Mack. CeeCee’s man, Mark. And Mick. It’s a fucking nightmare.”
“To be fair, everyone calls him Woody,” Cecilia pointed out.
“He likes it when she calls him Michael,” Callie said, smiling at me. “I think it’s sweet.”
“Enough to give you a toothache,” Farrah muttered behind me. “And back to what you said, Em, it’s plenty fair to Michael. He gets to come home to you and his boy every day. Nothing better than that.”
“Amen,” Michael said from the doorway, his eyes on me.
He must’ve snuck in at some point, but I wasn’t sure how much he’d heard. My stomach flip-flopped at the smile he sent me.
“You’re early,” Heather said, turning to face him. “We’re not done.”
“Well, I’m not leavin’ again,” he announced, walking forward.
“I hope you’re not planning to carry her offAn Officer and a Gentlemanstyle,” Callie said with a smirk. “Because her hair’s not done.”
“Almost is,” Farrah said, blocking my view as she came around to stare at me face to face. “And it looks fucking fantastic if you ask me.”
“Hear, hear!” someone agreed.
Farrah took a few more minutes running her fingers through my hair, snipping off tiny pieces, before she stepped back and pulled the towel from my shoulders with a flourish. She handed me a hand mirror before taking her comb and scissors back to her bag, and I stared at myself, my stomach twisting.
It was so short. Cute, because Farrah would never let it be otherwise, but short. I’d never worn it that short before. I looked like a different person. My eyes met Michael’s as he crouched down in front of me.
