Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

“I asked for onion rings, and they gave me fries. I had to call over the manager. If I wanted fries, I would have ordered fries. I wanted onion rings.”

The rotund woman gestured wildly as she sat in my salon chair with her head half wrapped in square foils. I had to step back to prevent another color brush from getting knocked to the floor.

Burna Jones kept talking while the other patrons listened, or at least pretended to. “I told him he needed to give me what I asked for, and you know what he said to me? He had the nerve to say that I ate the fries. Of course I ate the fries! I was hungry, but that’s not the point. I wanted onion rings, and he shoulda give ’em to me for free.”

I tried not to stare at the bulging collar of flesh around the woman’s neck as it flopped in tandem with her words. It was hard to ignore it. Just keep quiet, Opal, I told myself as I combed up another section of hair to spread jet-black color on her steel-gray strands. Tambre Bearclaw, the salon owner and my boss, had warned me that the best way to deal with Burna was to put her in the chair, use the darkest color on the palette, and keep quiet.

“Don’t try to suggest anything else or she’ll throw the biggest hissy fit you’ve ever seen,” Tambre had advised in a whisper when I first met the difficult woman. “No one wants to work with her and her nasty attitude, so we take turns. Think of it as a rite of passage or initiation.”

“I told that man I’d be giving his restaurant a one-star review and speaking my mind on the internet,” Burna continued. “And I did just that. Let’s see how his business handles it. I bet he’ll be callin’ me with an apology real soon.” She finished her narrative with an emphatic “ mm-hmm ” and crossed her arms below the drape ballooning around her hanging chin.

“That new woman workin’ at Randy’s is hard to understand sometimes,” another woman remarked from the depth of the shampoo sink.

“No excuse for givin’ someone fries when they ordered onion rings. These young people are just too damn lazy to work.”

I gritted my teeth. I had nightmares of when I worked fast food years ago as a young teenager. It got so busy and backed up sometimes that occasionally we messed up orders. Getting cursed at by customers over how many chicken nuggets came in a paper cup was one reason I left. Getting groped by the manager was another.

I exchanged glances with my friend and roommate, Kimmie. Both of us had moved to Bryson City, North Carolina, earlier this summer, just after graduating from cosmetology school in Red Wing, Minnesota. It was a big culture shock to go from a relatively flat area of the country to this mountainous region. The roads twisted like crazy, and there were times that I couldn’t understand the thick Southern accent some people had, but both of us needed a fresh start somewhere that no one knew us and our pasts. The instructor back in Red Wing had an older relative in this area who told her about the job openings in a local salon.

We were a long way from home, but this place was just as good as any other.

We had agreed to let the past be the past and not to talk about it. “New town, new people, new lives” had become our motto. I did my best to follow that line of thought, I really did, but sometimes at night, when I lay in my bed and listened to the sounds my baby girl made while sleeping, memories would roll through my brain like a movie scene, and I had to jam a pillow over my face to keep my tears from coming out.

I finished Burna’s color job and twisted the dial on the timer. “I’ll be back to check on you in a bit. Do you need anything? Water?”

“Get me a Diet Coke. I don’t want all those carbs in the regular ones. Makes you fat.”

Kimmie made a choking noise and covered it by examining her client’s nails closely.

Tambre was in the back room taking inventory and spotted me as I came in. Without breaking her stride, the older woman opened the fridge and pulled out a can of the preferred soda. She handed the cold drink to me with a conspiratorial wink. “You handle that battle-ax really well. Burna has been known to chew up and spit out store clerks for anything she doesn’t like. She makes the Karens-in-the-wild look tame.”

I took the can and plucked a paper-wrapped straw from a counter drawer we used for extra condiment packets, plasticware, and other bits. “I’ve dealt with worse.”

Tambre gave a quiet hum. “I think she likes you for now because you don’t try to correct her or change her mind. That’s how I deal with her, too, but she will eventually bite at you. Try not to take it personally. She’s been this way for years.”

I smiled at my boss. Burna Jones was easy compared to some of the other people I used to be around.

Molly appeared in the doorway. “Hand me one of them sodas, would’ja? It’s hotter than the devil’s front porch out there. Cutter’s already bitchin’ ’bout keepin’ his tomato plants watered. Lord, wish it would rain soon and shut him up. A good soakin’ shower and not these little teaser sprinkles.”

The perky woman turned to me with barely a break in her speech. “Tam is right about Burna. That bitch tried to get my friend Melissa Wall fired from her job over at the movie theater. Complained she didn’t get the extra butter on her popcorn that she paid for and made a big stink about it in the lobby. I can still remember the look on Hilda’s face. She was sooo embarrassed.”

“Hilda?” I asked. Only a month had passed since I moved here, and even though I’d met a lot of people, Hilda wasn’t a name I remembered.

“Burna’s granddaughter. Lost her parents on the Tail when she was little. Drunk driver, if I’m rememberin’ right.” Molly shook her head. “The Tail of the Dragon is hard enough to run when you’re sober. Why some dumbass decided he could take it after downing a six-pack or three is beyond me. Left that poor little girl to be raised by the bitterest woman ever known to God or man.”

I could relate somewhat to both women. My childhood hadn’t been rainbows and unicorns either. I had no clue who my dad was, and my mom only earned the title because she gave birth to me. If I thought about it, I could feel sorry for myself and become permanently angry about life, but I chose not to. I’d made other choices I regretted, but I’d also come to accept my mistakes and learn from them. I had my own little girl now, and I was determined to give her a better life than the one I started with.

The cold of the soda can bit into my fingers a little, and I smiled at my boss. “I’d better get this out to Burna, then, before she decides to get me fired too.”

Tambre gave me a pointed look and a wink. “No chance of that. You’ve got a great eye for color and a deft hand. Plus, you’re here on time and get the work done. Burna’s a regular customer, but I need good, reliable help just as much or more than I need her.”

I nodded but didn’t say anything back. Yes, I needed this job as much as Tambre needed me here, but I’d been burned too many times to completely trust anyone. In my experience, words meant nothing without actions behind them, and I’d had earfuls of promises that seldom panned out. There were only two people in the world who I knew had my back 100 percent. One lived in Minnesota with her new man. The other one?

I couldn’t think about him right now. If I did, I’d never make it through my workday.

I handed the drink to the dye-covered woman, who didn’t bother to say thank you. The timer ticked away on the rolling work tray. I glanced at the waiting area and saw no more walk-ins had come in. Kimmie was chatting with her client as she stroked a clear coat over the new set of acrylic nails she’d just finished. Bex and Deandra were busy on two other women, chatting and smiling as they discussed the last of summer break and the upcoming school year.

I picked up a broom and swept my area clean, then sent a quick text to Lori to check on Pearl. I didn’t like the idea of leaving my baby girl with a stranger, but I had to work. Luckily, she loved being at Lori’s place and giggled a lot when I dropped her off. I was the one who cried when I left her.

Gossip flowed freely around me, and it was hard not to eavesdrop.

“Did’ja hear about Morris Cumber’s son’s wife’s cousin?”

“My husband complains about the kids not eating, but he’s the one who’s the pickiest at the dinner table.”

“Ground beef is on sale over at Ingles this week.”

“I’m headin’ over to Walmart for school supplies later.”

“The Dragon Runners are having a party on Saturday night.”

I stiffened a little as I bent over to scoop the clippings into the dustpan and dump them in the small trash can at my station. Everyone knew about the Dragon Runners Motorcycle Club in this town. They owned quite a number of businesses and had connections that ran deep.

The first time I met Betsey, the reigning MC queen, she scared me a little. She came in the salon with her jeans and cut the day I interviewed and got hired. Her heeled boots clacked confidently across the wood floor, and I noted the regal way she carried herself. I’d had Pearl with me, and the redheaded woman squealed. Yes, squealed .

“Lord have mercy, what a cute little girl. Here, let me hold her for a minute.”

Pearl had no problem grinning and reaching for her. Betsey had hitched out a hip like an expert and propped Pearl on it. “Who’s a pretty girl? Oh my, look at all them teeth. Aren’t you smart? Yes, you are! Yes, you are!”

Pearl had gurgled and grinned at the bubbling lady. I’d fought tears as I was reminded of my favorite person I’d left in Minnesota. Mama J was the mother of six children and had been my best friend and support when I needed it most.

It was Betsey who solved many of my moving problems. She’d turned to me and rapid-fired a handful of questions.

“You’re the new girl? Where are you staying? There’s an apartment across from Soap-n-stuff that’s open for rent. You need a good daycare? Lori, down at the tattoo parlor, is doing a daycare now at her house and might have a spot. Lord knows, she an’ Table don’t need no money, but she likes takin’ care of kids.”

In no time, Kimmie and I had moved into a two-bedroom apartment over a storefront in the downtown area of Bryson City. It had been renovated and was cute, though a bit small. I shared a room with Pearl, of course. The window had a full view of a huge, stately house that was a local craft store on the bottom floor and a family home on the others. Betsey’s son, Blue, his wife, Psalm, and their kids lived there. Psalm made the most amazing soap.

Lori was married to Table, another biker in the club. They owned and operated Dragon’s Ink, a tattoo place not too far from the salon. Their house sat farther out of town, with a big fenced-in backyard that butted up to the river.

Town news and happenings surrounded me on a daily basis in the beauty shop. I heard all about the women of the Dragon Runners MC. It seemed they had their own club, and a strong one at that. So far, I’d not involved myself more than I had to. My emotions were too raw, and the move across the country to such a different place was still too new. Some days were better than others, and I could smile and be happy. Some were so hard, I barely kept myself upright.

The timer dinged, and Burna shifted in the chair, making the fake leather squeak. “Young lady! I’m done!” Her shout across the salon had several sets of eyes rolling.

“Coming, Ms. Jones.”

“It’s about time.” The woman sucked up the last of her soda and handed me the empty can. “I have a lot to do today.”

“I’m sure you do. Let’s go get you shampooed and cut.”

A couple more scheduled jobs of coloring, cuts, and one perm later, I was finished. My day was long, but I had a nice pocketful of tips and a slow cooker of kalops waiting for me at home. I picked up Pearl, who was all smiles and giggles, from the sitter’s and then drove to the apartment. Kimmie was already there and dolling up to go out again.

“Bex got invited to go to the Lair tonight and said I could come with her. I bet they’d let you in too. Betsey loves kids and would probably take Pearl for a while so you could enjoy yourself.”

I rested my girl on my hip. “Thanks, but I’m good staying here.”

A few years ago, I lived to stay up all night and party with no limits. It was the lifestyle I chose and one I remembered well. My past still haunted me and probably would for the rest of my life, but I could either choose to wallow in self-pity or move on.

I’d done all the wallowing I ever cared to do.

Kimmie left a few minutes later, and the apartment quieted. I cooled the mashed potatoes and meat to feed Pearl, and she messily crammed the food into her mouth. She was getting so big and growing more every day from an infant into a toddler. She crawled like a cheetah and pulled up on anything that would hold her weight, taking tentative steps before plopping down on her padded rear. Potty training was around the corner. Her blonde hair was long enough to clip up in a small bow-shaped barrette at the top of her head. Her blue eyes and mischievous grin reminded me of her biological father, but she mostly looked like me.

“How’s my little Pearl? Did you have fun at Lori’s?”

Her answer was a short “En-gah,” and she showed me her baby teeth before she stuffed a carrot piece in her face.

I giggled with her.

One of my biggest joys in life was this time at night with my little girl. We splashed and played while I gave her a bath, and she fell asleep as I rocked her and hummed whatever song was in my head. Mama J—Janice—taught me so much about how to be a good mom. Reading, singing, playing games, being involved. So much of this time was precious, and I hoarded every minute.

I held my sleeping daughter and listened to the rhythmic squeak of the plain wood rocking chair as I moved it forward and backward. I had some money in the bank, but I needed to stretch it out as long as possible, keeping some back for emergencies. Kimmie’s family had shipped us some living room pieces and kitchen stuff that was used but in good shape. Goodwill supplied the rest. I’d spotted the wooden rocker when Pearl and I spent a day puttering around the local flea market. The first piece of furniture I ever bought just for me. It was old and a little rickety, but a little wood glue and a cheap cushion fixed it up nicely. Some people might find it a little weird, but I loved that rocker. I wondered how many children had been soothed to sleep by its back-and-forth motion. How many bedtime books had been read in it? How many quiet nights had the rhythmic creaking calmed a troubled mind?

I transferred Pearl to her crib, which took up most of my bedroom. My next splurge had to be a new mattress and box spring, as the one I used now was worn and dipping in the middle. A twin-sized this time—no need for anything bigger, and the current double took up too much space. I had plans to save up and eventually get us our own place. One with a yard and a fence and a dog. My dream house. Something I once touched with the tips of my fingers long enough to imagine the possibility before it was torn away.

Pain ripped through me, and I stifled a sob. Pearl fussed and squirmed to find a new position, and I held my breath. She farted and quieted down. I smiled.

“She’s getting big,” an invisible voice whispered in my ear. Its warm tone spoke with caring admiration and a bit of pride.

“Yes, she is,” I whispered out loud.

Silence answered back.

I changed into a sleep shirt and carefully climbed into my bed. Pearl was such a good baby and seldom woke at night, but I still didn’t want to make any noise to disturb her. I settled on my side, mentally sorting tomorrow’s schedule and tasks on repeat until I fell asleep.

I did not acknowledge the two tears that tracked down my face.