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“Simple, easy to deal with. I used to wear it a little shorter, more angled. But I was afraid to snip that much.”
“Praise Jesus.” Renee narrowed her eyes, studying Morgan in the mirror. “You’ve got a good face, strong, pretty, diamond shaped. We’re going bold and sassy.”
“Oh, well—”
“Trust me. You’re going to love it.” After the shampoo, which felt wonderful, Morgan sat back in the chair. Sounds and scents bounced around the salon as Renee snipped.
She’d never spent much time in salons, just a quick cut every six weeks or so. In and out. Here people seemed to linger, holding conversations in the pedicure chairs or at the manicure tables, while more voices, the snap of scissors or buzz of razors carried around with voices from the chairs.
Like a bar, she realized, it was a kind of world with regulars, walk-ins, and those who served them.
“It’s a good cut,” Renee decided as she squirted something in her hands, rubbed them together. “And you got body, so you won’t need a lot of product unless you want to fuss it up. You get some of what I’m using.” She began combing her fingers through again. “Like this, before you blow-dry. Or you can use it between shampoos on dry hair.”
“Okay.”
Renee smiled as she began to wield the blow-dryer and a brush. “Watch what I’m doing here. It’ll be easy to maintain. You’re going to have the sassy, the layers, a touch of shaggy, right? And this long sweep of fringe from right to left. Got your bold. It’s not going to look all done up, and it’ll have nice movement.”
Amazed, Morgan watched the transformation until she sat complete. Gone was the blunt, angled cut she’d worn before. Gone the admittedly inexpert attempts to trim.
Her hair looked fresh and fun, and no, not all done up, which she didn’t have the time or skill to maintain.
What she had? Easy, casual, and—she supposed—bold and sassy.
She lifted her gaze to Renee’s in the mirror. “I will never snip again.”
“That’s what I like to hear.”
“Can I book an appointment for when you think I need it done again?”
“I like hearing that even more. We’ll set you up.”
She drove to the nursery a few miles outside of the town proper, bought pansies and pots and everything she needed to plant them.
When she heard her ladies come home, she poured wine.
“Morgan, the pansies! They’re so sweet! Something smells so good. Did you cook? It’s not your day to— Oh my God!” Her mother stopped dead. “Your hair. Your hair’s adorable!”
“Is it?”
“Yes. Turn around, turn around. I love it. Mom, look at our girl!”
“I am. It suits you. Young, confident. What are you making here?”
“I found a recipe for leftover chicken, and it seemed easy. It always seems easier than it is, so I won’t believe that again. But I think it’s good. I tasted it, and I think it’s good. Chicken chili.”
“What a surprise. Three surprises at once. And all wonderful.” Audrey took the wine. “What a busy day you’ve had.”
“It felt good. It all felt good.”
“Let’s all sit down a minute.” Olivia picked up her wine. “And feel good.”
When Nell hustled into the bar just before noon, Morgan stood behind the bar handling the setup.
“First, great hair.”
“Thanks. Can I get you something?”
“Not yet. Where’s Nick?”
