8. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Tyler

Friday morning, I awoke at seven to have my video call with my therapist, who was on the East Coast. Thankfully, it went better than I had expected.

As I leafed through the journal I'd been keeping at the doctor's request, I found the picture Leslie had drawn of me, which was remarkably good, in my uneducated opinion. It made me smile. After I finished the call, I tore it out of my notebook and put it on the front of the fridge with a magnet.

I was early for work and a little on edge. I'd been waiting for another text from Leslie on Wednesday evening and all day Thursday, but I'd gotten nothing. I didn't want to contact him without receiving a response because I was sure it would make me come across as clingy, so I chewed my nails and kept my phone in my pocket to know immediately if he responded.

"Ty, can you shampoo Bonnie?" I glanced over to where Mom stood at her station, finishing the cut for Teresa Schmidt. Her next client, Bonnie Jordan, sat in the waiting area, flipping through an old gossip rag.

I longed for the day when I had too many clients to be the fallback to shampoo everyone else's or sweep up the hair others cut. I had skills. I just needed to be able to show them what I knew.

"Sure, Mom." I walked out to the front to grab Bonnie Jordan. "Hi, Mrs. Jordan. If you'll follow me back, I'll shampoo you."

Bonnie was a nice, widowed woman who'd returned to Foggy Basin after her husband died in San Francisco. She now lived with her elderly mother. She worked at the post office part-time and was very active in the community. She coordinated the library fundraiser every March and was on the committee that planned Foggy Basin Days in the fall .

The town council selected a different community project every year to use the proceeds from the Foggy Basin Ball and Bake Sale. The previous year before I got out of Folsom, they put a new roof on the library and repaved the parking lot behind it. Mom said it was quite an improvement.

Bonnie sat in the shampoo chair, and I adjusted the back for her. She was about five-two and thin. She needed a little support, so I grabbed a pillow from the couch in the waiting area and slid it under her lower back to keep her high enough so her head was in the bowl. "How's that?"

"It's better, Tyler. How've you been?" Bonnie wasn't like some of the others who frequented the shop. I liked her. She wasn't judgmental at all.

"I've been good. Getting used to being back home. How's Ivy? She went to college in New York, right?"

Bonnie had lost her husband when Ivy was in middle school, and when they'd moved back to town, Ivy had been in my grade. She was one of the nice girls who didn't give me shit. We weren't friends, but I didn't hate Ivy.

"She went to SUNY-Courtland, Tyler. Ivy's now teaching school in Oregon. She's got a boyfriend who teaches at the same school, and I'm going to visit them next week." Bonnie smiled happily, which was nice to see .

"That's so great to hear, Mrs. Jordan. Tell her I said hi. When will Foggy Basin Days take place this year? What's the project?" Bonnie giggled as I gently shampooed her hair.

"This year, it will be the second weekend in September. We're collecting money for a new playground at Veterans Park. Do you cook, Tyler? We're looking for people to donate baked goods for the baked-goods raffle."

I rinsed her hair and brushed it with a deep conditioner. Bonnie's hair was starting to gray, and was a little dry. I was sure Mom would set her up with a good hair-care routine when she left, but right now, I'd do what I knew Mom would—condition the hell out of it.

"I'm not a baker. I can make a ham and cheese sandwich, but that's about as far as my culinary talents can take me."

Bonnie laughed out loud. "Your baking can't be any worse than some of the others in town. The prune with walnuts cake was the one thing we couldn't get rid of last year."

It was my turn to laugh. "Prune and walnuts cake? That doesn't even sound good. You should talk to Mom about her bacon-cheese-jalape?o cornbread. She does it in an iron skillet, and it's so good. She makes amazing—"

"Honey butter. Yes, I've won the basket with it for the last four years. My mother loves it, so it' s my job to bid the most. It's one of those things I don't want us to have too often because it would be less special, but I'm already looking forward to it this fall."

I grinned as I wrapped her hair in a warm towel. "You want some cucumber water or maybe sparkling water with lemon?"

"I'd love some cucumber water, Tyler. Thank you."

I left her with her eyes closed and went to the kitchen to get Bonnie a drink. When I returned, I saw Mom finishing up with Teresa Schmidt, the grade school principal.

"Here you go, Ms. Jordan. I'll rinse you in about five minutes, and Mom will be ready for you." Bonnie nodded, and I stepped away to grab the broom and clean up Mom's station while she was upfront chatting with Ms. Schmidt.

As I was sweeping up around Mom's chair, my phone chimed in the pocket of my apron. I stopped sweeping and pulled it from the pocket. There was a message from Leslie.

I left your cooler on the back porch of your apartment. Thank you for the food. I appreciated it. I hope you had a good week. Leslie.

I hurried out the back door of the salon and ran into the alley, looking up at the small porch by my apartment entrance. The small blue cooler was at the top with a bow on the handle, which made me grin. I couldn't wait for the day to be over so I could see if there was anything inside.

But before that happened, I had my first client coming in. German Belmonte was due in my chair at three-forty-five, and I was excited…and a little nervous.

"Tyler, your new client is here." I was busy stocking my station with combs, shaving soap, and towels when Alice came over wearing a huge smile.

I took a breath and followed her to the front, seeing German standing at the desk looking very anxious. Ramon was sitting on a couch with a sweet smile aimed at German, and it touched my heart.

"German, glad to see you. Let's go back and talk about what you'd like to have done." I turned to Ramon. "Come on back with us."

We walked to my station, and I welcomed German into my chair. "Ramon, Edina is gone for the day, so please sit." I put my hand on the back of Edina's chair and turned it toward mine. "Can I get you guys something to drink? We have soda, juice, coffee, and water. "

German glanced at Ramon, who laughed. "He's nervous and stubborn. We're okay right now. Ger, babe, tell Tyler what you want."

I turned the chair to face the mirror and smiled. "Is it okay if I run my fingers through your hair? I'd like to get an idea of the thickness and your scalp health."

"His hair is thick and gorgeous, and I love wrapping my hands in it. I'll miss it." Ramon smirked.

German rolled his eyes. "Ignore my husband. Yes, please tell me what I need. I don't think I want to cut off too much."

I was a little stunned by German's acknowledgment that he and Ramon were married, but…

"Whoa! Are you fucking kidding me?"

There was a lot of Spanish after that because it seemed as if Camila didn't know her brother had gotten married either.

Ramon responded to her fervently, and as I looked in the mirror, I could see the smirk on German's face. Camila dragged her brother outside, and I turned my attention back to my new client.

"So, uh, congratulations? Let's talk about your hair. What do you want, German?"

"Shoulder-length so I can still put it up when I cook. Look, my hair's been this long since I was young, but I'm going to be thirty in a few weeks. We just got married—" we both heard Camila's shrieking through the back door "—and I'm going to meet Ramon's extended family tomorrow. Can you make me look presentable?"

I smirked. "As if you need me for that. When did you guys get married?"

"Last weekend. We drove to Vegas and got married in one of those cheesy wedding chapels. I didn't hate it."

I combed German's gorgeous hair and folded a large chunk of it up, sweeping it over his shoulder. "That's about six inches. Is that too short?"

Much to my surprise, German laughed. "Not if you know what to do with it." Then, we both laughed at his innuendo.

I smacked him on the shoulder. "Is this too short? Are you going to cry if I cut off too much? I can start with about half of that if you want to check it."

German laughed. "Naw. Go for it."

"You know, you have beautiful hair. If you'd consider going up four more inches, we could donate your hair to Beautiful Lengths. Mom has a friend who coordinates it in San Fran, so we'd section your hair into three braids and cut off ten inches. It would still be long enough to pull it back while you cook. It's just a suggestion. "

Ramon and Camila finally returned inside, and Ramon returned to Edina's station. I spun German's chair and doubled up the hair, holding it up in his direction. "Your husband could donate this much hair to a charity that makes wigs for individuals with cancer. What do you think? He'd still be able to pull it back when he cooks." I pulled the hair back and showed Ramon how it might look.

Ramon stood and walked over to his husband. "What do you want to do, mi amor ? Whatever makes you happy."

My heart skipped a beat at hearing the love in their voices as they spoke in hushed tones. Finally, Ramon gave German a quick kiss on the cheek and sat down. I turned German's chair and caught his reflection in the mirror as he smiled. "Go ahead and do it. I like the idea of donating it."

I didn't want the guy to freak out. He had about a foot on me, and he was crazy muscular. "Are you sure?"

German turned to Ramon. "Come over here and cut the first chunk."

Ramon smirked and stepped forward. I quickly sectioned off the hair and put a rubber band around the first section, braiding it and putting another band at the bottom .

"Here you go." I handed Ramon my scissors and stepped back a little.

Ramon held up the section and the scissors. "You're sure about this?"

German reached back and squeezed Ramon's thigh, nodding a bit. Ramon made the first cut, handing the braid to me.

"Thank you, German, Ramon. This will be used to help someone who's lost their hair." I then went about braiding the rest of German's hair and doing the same thing Ramon had done. When I cut the last braid, the stylists in the salon were standing behind us clapping, and Camila took a picture of the three of us each holding one of the braids. It was a beautiful moment.

"You did a fantastic job, Ty," Mom told me as I swept up the salon. German had left with a happy smile, and Ramon was running his fingers through German's shorter hair, pulling it and laughing. They were cute. I was glad they were happy.

Mom had put the braids into a plastic bag and then shoved it into a mailing envelope. She addressed it as I pushed the loose hair I'd swept into the hair vac behind the reception desk.

"Thanks, Mom. He had beautiful hair, and it was easy to shape it for him after I cut off the length. What are you doing tonight?"

Mom pretended to be busy at the computer, but I knew there was nothing she needed to do. I'd taken care of everything while I waited for German all day.

"I, uh, I thought I'd balance the books." Okay, that's a lie.

"Did you not check the desk in the back? I did that yesterday. I can run the tax forms on Monday when the final bank statements are received. Where are you really going?"

Mom stared at me for a moment before she sighed. "Tyler, honey, I'd rather not talk about it right now, if you don't mind. I ran into an old friend. We lost touch a long time ago, but he's very nice, okay? We're going out for coffee."

I was happy for her, but I was still going to rake her over the coals. "Who is it? Is it someone I know? Where are you going? You're not going to drink and drive, are you? You know I can't come get you."

I was rattling off the questions the same way Mom used to do when I was younger. I was still so damn grateful she'd been the mother she had, but I owed her the interrogation for all the times she'd quizzed me. If she hadn't been the Marlena Rockwell who raised me with love, I probably would have been dead after the way I fucked up.

"I… Tyler, I don't owe you any explanations." Mom's hands flew to her hips in a stance I'd seen too many times as I was growing up.

I laughed. "No ma'am, you don't. I'm just hassling you the way you used to hassle me."

I walked over to her and pulled her into my arms. "I love you. I want you to make sure the guy is worthy of you. You deserve only the best." I kissed her cheek and pulled away.

Mom popped me on the chest, but I noticed her covertly wiping her eyes. "I love you too, Ty. Lock up after me. Have a good night."

I followed Mom to the front door and walked her outside to her little SUV. I hugged her again and kissed her cheek before I went back inside and cleaned up for the evening. I locked the front door and hurried to get ready for the half-day on Saturday.

After everything was ready for the morning, I turned off the lights and closed the back door. I locked it and hurried upstairs to my apartment. There, by the door, was the cooler I'd given Leslie .

I picked it up, and it was heavier than I'd expected. Once inside, I carried it through to the small kitchen area and opened it. Inside were four jars and a handwritten note.

Tyler—

Thank you for the food. Here are a few jars of things that I made. They'll last for months because they've been properly canned, according to YouTube directions. The green jar is a poblano and tomatillo salsa, and the red one is a tomato and red chili corn salsa. The other two are marinara. Maybe we can find recipes to make together? Give me a call if you want company.

Leslie

820-555-6392 (in case you deleted my number since you haven't texted lately)

My mood lightened exponentially. I quickly pulled my phone from my pocket and shot off a text.

Thank you for the homemade canned goods. I'd love to research recipes with you. As you know, my kitchen is small, but I could ask to use Mom's kitchen. Let me know.

I hoped he responded. I doubted I'd get a good night's sleep until he did.