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I glance over at Tina, who is still putting together her cart, and get to work on Samantha’s hair. After two hours of pulling and poking, her hair is spiked with foil. “Go ahead and sit under the dryers. I’ll be right over.”
I go to the waiting area and grab a stack of magazines and drop them in her lap and flip the switch. “This should give you plenty to keep you occupied for the next hour.”
Beauty school is something I started when I was a senior in high school, and when I graduated, I worked two jobs to help save up to be able to open my own salon. When Lee and I became serious, he surprised me with the building. Of course, I wanted to do it on my own, but at that point, I didn’t have a choice. The building would have sat empty, and the first year being paid up allowed me to be able to get in the green a lot faster. Most new businesses stay in the red for the first one to three years depending on their opening success. The best thing about it is most of my clients came over to my salon from my previous employer.
I try to stay focused throughout the day, but running around on no sleep isn’t healthy. My clients pick up that I’m not my usual chatty self, and many ask what is going on. Talking about my personal life or problems with my clients is stepping over the line for me.
When I’m finished with my last client, it’s a couple minutes after three, and I have to try to cut the conversation short, so I’m not late picking up Sherrie from school. She’s a chatterbox and would stand here and talk for the next half hour.
“Alright, I’m headed to pick up Sherrie. You still coming over later?”
Tina nods, and I rush out the door. I try to get a head start before the traffic gets heavy with everyone heading to pick up their kids, but today is a no go. It takes me almost twenty-minutes to get up to the front of the pickup line.
Sherrie gets in the car, and we rush back to the house for her to change into shorts for practice. I would love to just jump in bed and doze off, but motherly duties never cease.
I hope the coach isn’t a total asshole.
4
BRODIE
My truck door slams behind me as the dirt crunches underneath my feet. The sun is in full force today, and there is nothing but the dugout to provide much needed shade. The dugouts are rusty, but at least the field has been marked up and provided new bases.. Baseball has always been a passion of mine, even if I never made it to the professional league. Being on the mound, having everyone silent waiting for you strike out the batter to win the championship game-- it’s exhilarating. Nothing like it.
“I still can’t believe you talked me into this,” Tristan says, sneaking up behind me as my eyes take in the ball field.
“You’re the only person with any experience. You could’ve said no.”
He shakes his head, and leans back onto my truck. No one else is here yet, so I take my time reminiscing over the blood, sweat, and tears that I’ve put onto this field. There were so many nights, we were out here, even if it was raining, practicing to get better. Funny enough, we got put on the same little league team and have been good friends ever since. I always pitched, and he was the catcher. Trust is important on any team, but especially between those two positions. They need to be in sync, and be able to communicate without saying a word. That’s us. Even now, sometimes.
“This place brings back so many memories, doesn’t it?” I ask.
Tristan steadies his eyes on the field.
Our dream was to make it into the professional league, but that didn’t work out. Instead of sitting around and being upset about it, we joined the Fire department. It’s nice to be back here again, even if we aren’t playing. The girls will recognize our love for the sport which will help them build theirs, too. Or, at least I hope.
Tristan pushes off the truck and faces me. “How did the date go last night?”
That is the last thing I want to talk about right now. I’m over the whole online dating thing. It’s a waste of time, and with taking this on, I don’t have much free time as it is. Since signing up, I’ve been on nine dates, all of which were numbingly painful.
He laughs. “It couldn’t have been that bad. Come on, man.”
“She couldn’t even hold a conversation. Used the word like at least a hundred times. She says she’s thirty-two, but acts like she’s barely legal to drink.”
My expectations are high, and it’s been hard to find anyone that even remotely fits. I didn’t think it would be this hard, but the last girl I dated had a crazy ex-boyfriend who tried to kill me, so I’m more cautious than ever.
“Let’s just say, I’m at the end of the rope. Online dating is not for me. You might like it, but I’m done.”
“Did you at least make it back to your house? Or was she that bad?” he asks, taking a swig of his water.
“I didn’t even make it to order drinks. I told her I was going to use the bathroom and left. There was no point in wasting either of our time.”
Tristan laughs into his fist. “You’re kidding? No way you actually dipped out on her.”
I nod with a straight face. “She hasn’t messaged me either, so I think she got the point.”
Let me get one thing straight; I’m not one of those guys that take you out, buy you dinner, and then take you back to my house, only to never call you again. One-night stands aren’t for me. Although, I might need to change my stance on this if my luck keeps up.
How long does a guy go without sex before his dick just stops working? Muscle memory, they say, but it’s been almost two years. Way too long. At this rate, I may never get laid again.
