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“Okay, sweets. Whatever you say.”
I closed my eyes, inhaling the amazing scent of the peppermint shampoo. Every time I did this, I wondered why I didn’t treat myself more often.
As I sat in Marti’s salon chair after my shampoo, he stared at me, squinting his eyes as he surveyed the work ahead. “So, I suggest you let me have my way.”
I nodded, trusting him completely. “Go for it.”
He spun the chair toward the center of the room, where I couldn’t see the mirror, and he called to Jimmy, who was putting his newly folded towels on the shelf. “We’re gonna need highlights and lowlights. Mix us up some 6NMG and bleach with 20 volume.”
This was Greek to me, but I trusted these two to work their magic. Marti talked the entire time he was working. We chatted about pretty much everything and everybody in town. I could tell he was avoiding questions about Seth, which I appreciated. When he finished, he put me under the warm, domed hair dryer to develop my color and highlights and set a timer.
He shampooed, rinsed, and conditioned my hair and then set to cutting it. I cringed as he snipped what seemed like alotof hair.
“This is going to blow your mind.” He snickered as he said this, and I hoped getting my mind blown was a good thing.
Once he’d dried and styled my hair with a large-barrel curling iron, he spun my chair back toward the mirror with a flourish. “Tada, beautiful.”
I covered my mouth with my hand. “Oh—wow.” My hair color was still in the brown family, but it now had a cinnamon hue with a few gold streaks. The layered cut framed my face and highlighted my eyes. “I love it! Thank you, Marti.”
Marti lifted a shoulder. “Of course.” I could tell he was pleased with himself, as he should be.
Feeling lighter and prettier than when I’d gone in, I smiled all the way to Daddy’s house. Something about a good cut and color did wonders for my mood.
ChapterSix
Cooking wassomething I loved and was good at instinctually. Attending culinary school was a great fit because I loved creating new dishes and old favorites. I made the cornbread dressing from scratch and then put together the sweet potato and green bean casseroles to prepare for last-minute heating tomorrow. I stewed cranberries, sugar, and orange juice over a slow heat until they thickened, bubbled, and cooled before transferring to the refrigerator. Then, I made the banana pudding.
After I finished the side items and dessert, I stored them in the fridge, I decided to brine the turkeys in the diner’s kitchen so I could refrigerate them there. Daddy’s garage fridge wouldn’t hold them both, especially with all the other food inside. As I muscled the turkeys outside, I noticed a late-model black truck approach and stop at the end of Daddy’s driveway, but I couldn’t tell who was driving. The driver rolled down the window, and I recognized Seth.
“Need some help?” He put the truck in park and rushed over to relieve me of the two fifteen-pound turkeys. “Where do you want these?”
“Are you stalking me?” I asked, only partially joking, as I pointed to the bed of Daddy’s truck.
“I wouldn’t call it that exactly. I just left the hardware store and thought I’d say hello. Mr. Doyle told me you were here cooking. I’ve been thinking about you since our last conversation.” He smiled—the one that I remembered so well.
A gust of cold wind blasted through, and I shivered and crossed my arms. “Um. Okay. Thanks for stopping by.” I pointed toward the turkeys. “I need to get those into a brine at the diner before I’m back on duty for the evening shift with Daddy.”
“Your hair looks fantastic.”
I touched my hair on instinct. I’d almost forgotten about the haircut and color. “Thanks. Marti does work magic.”
“I’ll say.” He continued to stare at me, which made me uncomfortable. Not because he was creepy but because I could feel myself falling into his gaze, which caused my heart to pound and my hands to sweat. Like I was still a starry-eyed teen so crazy about him, it made me giddy.
Feeling giddy wasn’t helpful. “Stop staring at me like that.”
“Like what?” He put his hands up in a defensive gesture.
“Like I’m your girlfriend.” I still felt comfortable enough around him that I could speak my mind. Because we knew each other. That hadn’t changed after all this time.
“I still like to look at you, Kayla. I always have.”
“Well, stop it. It makes me uncomfortable.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “You can’t come back here a decade later and do that.”
“I’m sorry. I’d hoped—” he trailed off.
“Don’t hope. It’s been nice to see you again, but I don’t want to get bogged down in old memories and emotions. It won’t do either one of us any good.”
“It’s just that I’ve missed you so much.” He sounded sincere.
