2. Chapter One

Chapter One

Tyler Rockwell

April 2024

"Hi, Mrs. Mannon. Edina will be right with you. Have a seat, and I'll get you a cup of coffee."

"Thank you, dear. You keeping yourself out of trouble? Your mother was so worried about you"—she held her hand up to her mouth as if telling a secret—"when you were incarcerated." Her whisper echoed off the walls of the salon.

"Yes, ma'am." I went back to the kitchen where everything was located, filling a paper cup with coffee I hoped was scalding hot. She and Evelyn gave me the most shit out of everyone in town, though the others loved to remind me of things that happened while I was "gone"—as in, while I was in prison.

Yes, I did a stupid thing in high school. And it wasn't because I didn't have supervision as the son of a single mother—the prevailing theory around Foggy Basin.

Foggy Basin was the ultimate small town, and there wasn't much to do. The kids at the high school never understood me, the gay kid who loved makeup and painted nails.

I'd gone to a consolidated school district with kids from several other villages like Foggy Basin, and everyone had wanted to fit in. If one looked around the halls, they would've sworn we were a religious school with uniforms, but we weren't. Everyone copied everyone else regarding fashion, hair, and extracurricular activities. They'd all been afraid to stand out from the crowd.

Enter me—a bastard child born to be different, just like my mother. To say Marlena Rockwell was a free spirit was an understatement, and just like her, I followed no one. I loved makeup, fashion, and music of all kinds, and when I walked into a room, I wanted to be noticed. I was born to be a leader, Mom used to say, which may have been true until I fucked it up.

I carried the coffee to Mrs. Mannon on the tray Mom insisted I use with the sweeteners and creamers we had on hand for our clients. Mrs. Mannon picked up the small pitcher of creamer and sniffed it, her face morphing into an ugly scowl.

"That's sour, Tyler. You should always check the cream before you give it to the clients. Did your mother never teach you to return it to the refrigerator every time it's used?" I was surprised I had a tongue left with all the biting of it against all the bullshit shoveled at me from our clients.

"Mrs. Mannon, it's not cream. It's non-dairy vanilla spice creamer. We're out of regular cream, so use it or drink your coffee black. Don't give Tyler a hard time." Thank god Edina had come out from the back.

I turned to the reception desk to see Wendy Claymont waiting to pay for her color and cut, so I took the tray with me to check her out.

"Do you need any products today?" Edina had placed the ticket for Wendy on the desktop's keyboard, so I knew what services to charge for.

"I need some texturizer." Wendy smiled as she pulled out her credit card .

I bagged up our signature texturizer and handed it to her as I rang up the sale. Wendy left with a cheerful, "Have a great day."

"Ty?"

I turned toward the back of the salon to see my mother coming my way. She always directed a happy smile at me, but in my heart, I knew I didn't deserve it.

"Yeah, Mom?"

"Can you remove the foils and shampoo Bev Kyles for me?"

"Is she gonna grab my crotch again?" Beverly Kyles was newly divorced, and the last time I'd shampooed her, she'd grabbed my dick and stroked it over my apron and jeans. Unfortunately, it deflated further instead of springing to life. I hadn't told my mother about the encounter until a week after it happened. Mom had apologized, but it wasn't her apology to make.

"I talked to her about that, son. I told her I wouldn't continue to have her as a client unless she apologized to you and kept her hands to herself." Mom always took the bull by the horns.

I kissed Mom's cheek and went to her station to get Beverly Kyles. "Ms. Kyles, if you'll follow me."

The woman rose from Mom's chair, a look of dread on her face. "Tyler, I'm so sorry if I offended you last time."

If? Had she lost her fucking mind? "Ms. Kyles, I was highly offended. I was always taught to keep my hands to myself." Without a comment, she sat in the chair and I, not so gently, pulled out the foils, laughing to myself when she shrieked in discomfort.

After clearing the foils from the basin, I turned on the cold water, which was like ice. Ms. Kyles jumped when it hit her scalp to rinse the bleach. "Oh, is that too cold?"

There would be a special place in hell for me, but at that point, I didn't give a damn. I adjusted the water temperature to do as Mom asked. After shampooing the woman, I left her at the basin while I went to Mom's station. "You got the toner ready?"

"Did she apologize?"

"Define apologize ." I reached for the toner Mom had just mixed. I didn't mind helping Mom when she needed an extra set of hands. Having learned barbering in prison prepared me for working in her salon, and I enjoyed being there.

There were a lot of difficult customers in the world, but none worse than inmates. Fuck up their hair, and nobody was as difficult to deal with as a pissed-off felon with nothing to lose.

"Let it go, Mom. She's got more money than sense. We're a for-profit business, so let her spend it here. "

I took the tub of purple cream with me to the basin and began brushing the mixture onto Beverly's hair. I was a professional and could remain so, even though I didn't like the client. I'd watched Mom do it for years.

"Okay, Ms. Kyles. I'll be back in fifteen minutes to shampoo and condition your hair again, and then Marlena will be ready for your cut and style." I dried my hands and turned to walk away when the woman grabbed my ass. "Eep!"

I turned around, ready to say something when Edina walked over to the woman and grabbed her boob. "How do you like that?" Edina was giving the woman a death glare if I ever saw one.

"I'm not a lesbian!" Ms. Kyles looked scandalized, and I was trying like hell not to laugh.

"Well, how do you think Ty feels. He doesn't know you and he didn't invite your advances, Bev."

"I believe I'm the woman to turn him, Edina. I know Marlena would like grandchildren. One night with me, and Tyler will be chasing all the young ladies in town."

"How damn dumb are you, Beverly? Tyler is just fine the way he is. You really need to get some counseling. No wonder Andre Craig divorced you. You're a nymphomaniac! You can't keep your panties on, girl."

"Marlena! I demand— "

"Enough!" We all turned to see my mother had overheard the altercation. Her inner mama bear came to the surface in a hurry.

I walked away to let them figure it out. I went out the back door and sat at the table behind the shop to take a break. I'd picked up smoking in prison, but when I got out, Mom put her foot down that I had to quit, and I was so glad she had.

I closed my eyes to try to calm down. Letting some of those women rile me up was probably bad for my health.

"You wanna go to lunch?" I turned to see Alice Landing by the back door. She was a sweet girl around my age who Mom had hired about seven months prior, just before I got out of Folsom on early release. Alice was a blonde-haired, blue-eyed beauty with zero self-confidence.

Camila Ortiz walked outside behind her with a smirk. "Come on, handsome. Let's go get some tacos."

Camila's older brother owned a food truck that went from town to town in the area where we lived. It was Tuesday, which meant The Taco Wagon was in Foggy Basin by Veterans Park where they were hosting a spring-break camp for school-age kids. Ramon's food was excellent, so it would be busy, but I liked to eat there because he was a really friendly guy.

"Sure. Let me grab my phone."

"No, don't go in there. Bev's still here, and your mother is chewing her ass out good. This will be the last time her butt hits Marlena's chair," Camila speculated.

I'd like to say I felt bad, but that would be a lie. That shit about turning me ? I'd love to see her try.

Alice, Camila, and I walked over to Veterans Park. It was a nice day to be outside, and the park was busy with everyone taking advantage of the early spring breezes. Alice shared her latest man troubles, and Camila offered sage advice as a widow of four years who hadn't jumped back into the dating pool. "He's a mama's boy. Cut him loose now before you're too far down the road with him."

"What's that mean?" Alice asked the question I'd been thinking.

"It means before you fall in love with him, sweetheart. Trust me, it only gets worse if you end up in love with a mama's boy." Camila's eyes got that faraway look I'd seen a few times.

Camila's husband had been an airplane mechanic in the Air Force. They'd been stationed at Vandenberg in Southern California and had planned to start a family. He was killed in an accident involving an exploding tire on base, and Camila moved back to Foggy Basin to be closer to her family.

Her parents and brother all lived in Miller's Point—close but not too close. I understood her need for privacy completely.

"He's nice though. I mean, he's polite. He opens doors and says please and thank you. I don't think it's too much to ask that his mother not go on every date with us." Alice was so na?ve it bordered on ridiculous. Unfortunately, I couldn't throw stones because I'd been much like her before prison.

"Girl, if Hector would have brought his mother on one date, I'd have cut that man loose in a heartbeat. You gotta put your foot down. I think it might be too late for you with Ryan." I thought Camila had a point, but then again, I'd never been in a relationship. What I had with my cell mate hadn't been anything like I hoped a relationship would be. It'd been Survival 101.

Alice looked at me with those big eyes. "What do you think, Ty? You're a guy."

I chuckled. "Not according to Beverly Kyles."

"Tyler don't let that bitch get to you. Your mother was rinsing her hair and giving her hell. She refused to give her a cut and told her not to call for another appointment. She told Beverly to be ready for our lawyer to call because you'd probably file a harassment lawsuit against her."

I laughed. "We don't have a lawyer."

Camila and Alice laughed with me. My mother was truly my champion.

We stewed over the extensive menu printed on a chalkboard attached to the side of the truck. When it was our turn, I ordered three beef barbacoa tacos with rice and beans, while the other two decided to share a three-enchilada platter.

"How you doin', Tyler?" Ramon gave me my change from our lunch even though I told him to keep it. My attitude was considerably better than when I'd left the shop because of the walk and the good company, so I sent my friends to get us a table while I waited for our orders.

"I'm good. I'm settling into the apartment over the shop, which is nice." I'd argued with Mom every day after the first week of living with her to let me move into the large studio apartment over the salon.

It had been sitting empty since Mom had bought the building from her old friend, Edith Rey. Mom had worked for Edith when I was growing up, and I'd considered Edith a grandmother figure. She'd died while I was in prison, and I missed her a lot .

"Yeah, I remember when Camila came back. Mom wanted her to move in with her and Dad, but Cam insisted she had to have her own space. I'm proud of her for standing her ground." I could see the admiration on Ramon's face.

"How about you? How's business?" Making small talk was still sort of new to me. There wasn't a lot of that in prison.

Words were transactional behind bars. "Blow me, now." "I don't want to." Smack! Done.

"Things are good, just like at the salon, from what Cam says. She also said your mother wants you close." Understatement.

"Smotheringly close. I get why but I need to figure things out for myself. She acts as though we haven't missed a step since I was that stupid seventeen-year-old kid who made a mistake. I grew up a lot in prison, but she thinks I'll still fuck up if she's not there to keep me out of trouble."

Ramon stepped out of the truck, leaving the grill to his assistant, German. "I know it's tough to get used to being on the outside again. Didn't your PO give you the name of a counselor? Even if it's not part of your parole agreement, I'd still take advantage of it. It helped German when he got out. "

That surprised me, but I barely knew Ramon, and I knew nothing about German. He was a big guy—six-four or five, two-twenty-five, if I was guessing. German was a good-looking man of few words with long brown hair and a short beard. He always waved and smiled but didn't speak.

I nodded. "I, uh, I have a video call with my therapist on Friday. The parole board wanted in-person visits, but they couldn't find anyone nearby, and I don't have a license to drive anywhere. I won't be able to get it back until my parole ends in three years because my crime involved me driving a car."

I'd explained everything to my coworkers at the shop when I first started, but I could tell Camila, being the kind of person who wouldn't share my personal failings, hadn't told her brother my life story. It wasn't as if I cared. I was used to getting judged.

I was developing a thick skin when it came to people's suggestions for how I should live my life now that I was on the outside. Even Mom, sometimes.

"Come on, mi amigo. Let's go eat."

Ramon sat with us, and we all ate together, laughing at Ramon's stories about mishaps while starting his business. When we finished eating, I cleaned off the picnic table, and we said our goodbyes. As I was about to join the ladies in returning to the shop, Ramon stopped me. "Do you have appointments that can be booked, or are you an assistant at Shear Bliss?"

His hair was really short, so I wasn't sure what he was getting at. "I have my license to cut hair. Do you need a cut?"

Ramon rubbed his palm over his short buzz cut. "Not much there to cut. No, uh, German wants a trim, and he doesn't trust Cam. She threatened to cut it like mine when he falls asleep. No, he asked if you could do it."

"Sure. Have him call the shop when he's ready, and I'll be happy to do it." He'd be my first client since I got out and started working with Mom. I was really excited.