Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
The House
“Lenni!” I yelled from the base of the stairs. “You’re gonna be late!”
“I’m not going to school!” Lenni shouted back. “I’m sick!”
Frowning, I ascended the staircase. For someone who wasn’t feeling well, she sure had enough energy to bring down the roof.
“What’s wrong?” I asked when I was at her door. “Headache? Sniffles?”
“I just don’t feel well!”
“Can I come in?” I asked.
After a moment, Lenni muttered. “Yeah.”
I opened the door. Lenni was buried underneath her coverlet. Something moved beneath it—and then Mildred’s snout appeared.
“Are you really sick?” I asked.
“No.”
I tugged the covers off her and couldn’t stop the gasp of shock from escaping my lips. “What did you do?”
“I cut my hair.”
“But why?” I asked. “If you wanted a haircut, we could’ve gone to a salon! You look like you did it with kitchen scissors.”
She swallowed. “I took your sewing scissors from your room.”
“When?” I asked.
“This morning.”
“Is this my fault? Did you do this because you’re mad at me?”
Her brows slashed together. “Why would I be mad at you?”
“I don’t know. Because your dad and I . . .”
She shook her head, whipping uneven dark tresses across her shoulders. “I talked to Nancy. She called earlier this morning.”
“Earlier when? Where was I?”
“In the shower.”
“Oh.” I frowned. “How did Nancy even get your number?”
“Archer gave it to her. When they talked. He told me she might reach out to me.”
I took a steadying breath. “So, Nancy called you?”
She nodded. “Yeah. To apologize.”
“For what?” I prodded when she fell silent.
“For how she handled everything after Mom died, and for leaving me without saying goodbye.” She swallowed. “She said it was all too much and she cried and said she’s sorry . . .”
“And your hair?”
She looked at me and started to cry. “I don’t know. I just . . . I miss Mom so much and everything is—”
I didn’t reply. Instead, I pulled out my phone. I scrolled through my contacts and pressed a button.
“What are you doing?” she sniffed as I put the cell to my ear.
I placed my finger to my lips, signaling her to be quiet.
“Hi,” I said after the phone was answered. “This is Wyn Larsen. I’m calling about Lenni Murphy. She’s sick and won’t be in today.” I paused and shot Lenni a wink. “Thanks so much.”
I hung up and tossed my phone aside.
“You’re the best, Wyn.” She launched herself at me and squeezed me tight.
I hugged her back. “We’re not going to make this a habit, okay? When we feel out of control, we do not cut our own hair, and we don’t lie about being sick.”
“But you just lied to the school,” she pointed out. “Should you call them back and tell them the truth?”
I tweaked her nose. “You and me, I mean . . . no lies. That’s the way this is gonna work. Yeah?”
She nodded.
“School doesn’t need to know everything.” I sighed. “Let me call your dad and give him a heads up.”
“Will he be mad?”
“Concerned,” I said. “But that’s not the same thing. He’s gonna want to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m okay.”
“Why don’t you go splash some cold water on your eyes,” I suggested. “It’ll help with the crying puffiness. I’ll call your dad and then we’ll get you to the hair salon.”
She bit her lip. “Thanks, Wyn.”
I waited until she was in the bathroom before I called Archer.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey. Just wanted to give you a heads up that Lenni isn’t going to school today.”
“Is she okay?”
“Yeah. I’ll tell you about it tonight.”
“All right.”
“And since she’s not going to school, you and I can’t have lunch together.”
“What if I come home and have an actual lunch with both of you?”
I smiled. “I’d like that. I think Lenni’d like that too.”
We hung up just as Lenni came back into the bedroom. Mildred belly-crawled toward Lenni who immediately gave her some love.
“Come here a second,” I said to her. “I want to show you something.”
Lenni hopped onto the bed and took a seat next to me.
I opened my phone again and scrolled through the photos before finding the one I wanted. I turned the phone and showed it to Lenni.
“Is that you?” She peered closer.
“That’s me,” I said. “Completely bald.”
“Why? Did you shave your head on purpose?” Lenni looked at me and then glanced back at the phone.
I gave it to her so she could really study it.
“Yeah, I did,” I said. “Sophomore year of high school. I donated my hair to a wig company. Scroll to the next photo.”
Lenni did as I said. “Who’s that?”
“That’s Aubrey. She was my best friend. She was diagnosed with bone marrow cancer the first few months into our sophomore year.”
“She’s pretty,” Lenni murmured.
“Yeah. She was.”
Lenni looked at me. “Was?”
“She died. Right before her sixteenth birthday.” I took the phone back from Lenni and stared at the photo of me and my high school best friend, both of us as bald as the day we were born. “She lost all her hair when she started treatment. She had gorgeous hair.”
“More gorgeous than yours?”
I smiled at her. “More gorgeous than mine. It was black and glossy. Like a raven’s wing. Like yours, actually.”
“Your tattoo,” she said in understanding, taking my left arm and turning it over so she could see the ink. “It’s a raven feather, isn’t it? You got it for Aubrey?”
I nodded. “We all live through hard things. You just have to decide how you’re going to handle stuff when it happens.”
Pouffant was Huckleberry Hill’s only salon. It catered to the septuagenarian crowd. However, they took walk-ins and because it was mid-morning on a weekday, they weren’t busy.
Eloise Cranston—one of Muddy’s best friends—owned the salon. She sat in a vacant stylist’s chair, but she perked up when Lenni and I entered.
“Hi Eloise,” I said with a smile. “We were wondering if you had an appointment opening.”
“I don’t,” Eloise said. “I can barely see, what with the cataracts. I’m getting surgery next week. Ginny’s available, though.”
A young woman with a stylish haircut popped out of the back. “Someone taking my name in vain?”
“Me,” Eloise said. “Wyn needs a haircut.”
“Not me.” I looked at Lenni. “Take off the hat.”
With a sigh, Lenni removed her wool cap.
Eloise squinted. “Oh my.”
“Lenni needs some magic,” I said to Ginny who looked to be a few years older than me.
Ginny smiled. “I’m something of a hair magician. Come on over to my chair and let’s see what I can do for you.”
While Ginny got Lenni situated, I took a seat.
“Cataracts aside,” I said, “how are things going with you?”
“Can’t complain.” Eloise smiled, gesturing with her chin to Lenni. “What happened there?”
“She thought she could cut it herself.” There was no way I was going to air Lenni’s dirty laundry to Eloise. She was sweet, but her heart was as big as her mouth.
My phone chimed and I pulled it out of my pocket.
Poet
Come bother me at the bookstore.
Me
We’ll be over in about an hour. I’ve got Lenni for the day. I’ll explain later.
Poet
everything okay?
Me
Sorta.
I shoved my phone back into my pocket and watched Lenni’s face light up with laughter at something Ginny had said.
“So,” Eloise began, “you staying in town for a while?”
“Actually, I’m moving here. Permanently.”
“No kidding,” she murmured. “That girl have anything to do with that?”
I smiled. “Yes.”
“Her father too?”
“Uh huh.”
She shook her head. “That Muddy.”
“That Muddy what?”
“She told me and Lucy the day you got here that you weren’t going back to New York.”
“That’s not that out of the norm for Muddy.” I snorted. “She just knows things.”
“Well, it wasn’t just that she said you weren’t going back to New York. She said she had an inkling that you and Archer would hit it off. And by golly, she was right. Again.”
I frowned. I knew Muddy was witchy, and she just had a knowing about certain things. But Archer and I hadn’t met until recently. How had she known?
Thirty minutes later, Lenni hopped out of the chair, hair now brushing just below her shoulders.
“Well? What do you think?” she asked me.
“I think you look like you could pass for a sixth grader,” I teased.
She laughed. “Yeah? And do sixth graders have their ears pierced?”
“Nice try.” I turned to Ginny. “It looks great. Thanks. Let me settle up with you.”
After we paid, I pushed the salon door open. Cold air greeted us.
Lenni hunched lower in her coat as we made our way to the truck. By the time I climbed into the driver’s side, Lenni was already buckling her seat belt.
“Okay, what now?” she asked.
“Poet wants to be bothered,” I stated. “So I’m thinking we hit the bookstore real fast and then I need to run an errand.”
“What kind of errand?”
“The DMV.”
“What’s the DMV?”
“Hell. It’s Hell,” I quipped. “And I’m dragging you along so you can entertain me. Think of it as your punishment for the hair thing.”
“Can we get milkshakes at Hawthorne’s on the way back?”
“Um, no. You want me to reward bad behavior?”
“Please? I promise I won’t do anything like this again.”
I sighed. “Does anyone say no to you?”
“No.”
“Yeah, I didn’t think so.”