3. Andy
ANDY
There’s very little I love more than getting my hands into someone’s hair.
My talent to make it do what I want is satisfying and challenging enough to keep me interested. The ever-changing beauty world means that I’m constantly learning new skills, testing something different and there’s never any permanence, which suits me just fine.
My hair is what ignited my love of cosmetology.
Learning to undercut the waist length wavy curls so they’re not so heavy.
Trying the curl-defining cutting techniques to bring out the best of my hair and figure out what works for my particular texture.
What products make my hair sleek and shiny and which ones manage the frizz is what cemented my early love of helping other people love at least one thing about themselves.
I dish out little nuggets of self-love—one lock of hair at a time.
I make people feel beautiful for a living. What could possibly be bad about that?
The bell above my shop door rings, and Rhett walks through as I finish folding a load of towels.
“Hey, Rhett.”
He steps past the receptionist desk and hands me one of the coffee cups in his hands.
The Calhouns have been getting their hair cut by me for years … except for Jedd. I’m pretty sure he has haircut PTSD after what I did to him in high school. But the rest of the boys have a deal with me—they’ve been my willing guinea pigs since before cosmetology school, and I don’t charge them.
Instead, they bring me the sweet, life-affirming caffeine in the cup I’m holding or fix things around my shop and cottage when repairs crop up.
Though Jedd does all of the same things for me, and I haven’t put my hands on his hair in over a decade. Best friend perks for the win.
I set the coffee cup on my station, and then grab a cape from the hook next to the mirror. Rhett takes a seat, and I sink the chair all the way to the ground. Even with it nearly touching the floor, Rhett’s almost too tall for me to reach the top of his head.
“Scoot down a bit.” I nudge his shoulder while I snap the buttons of the cape at the back of his neck and grab my water bottle to wet down his dark brown hair.
“You just want your usual?” I ask as I flick on my clippers. The low mechanical buzz fills the air as he nods. “What are you up to today?” Small talk is part of the job, active listening more so.
“Got a hot date with one of the snow bunnies up at the resort,” Rhett replies with a smirk.
I shake my head. “The snow bunnies are already here?” There is no snow on the ground and none in the forecast. The season won’t start for at least another month.
“Yeah. She came in for a weekend at the resort spa with her friend. Tried to convince Jedd to go out with us and double.”
“Oh? What did he say?” It’s almost impossible to keep the edge out of my voice even though I’m dying to know.
I know Jedd dates. He’s thirty-five. But I’ve done my best to ignore it over the years. Though it gets harder every time.
Rhett shakes his head. “Couldn’t convince him.”
I do my best to ignore the swoop of relief that loosens the tight feeling in my gut.
It’s not fair for me to get upset at the idea of Jedd dating. We’re friends. Just friends.
The bell at the front chimes again, and Harry Daniels steps through. The sixty-year-old is one of my business partner’s most loyal clients. When the old barber shop went out of business and Jenner started offering classic barber services, Harry damn near glowed with hero worship.
The flattop buzz cut from his military days is so straight you could set a carpenter’s level on top of his head, and it’d show a perfectly horizontal surface. Rain or shine, he’s in Jenner’s chair every four weeks.
“Hey, Harry. Jenner’s just in the back. Give him one sec, and he’ll be out.”
“Thanks Andy.” He smiles at me. The lines and crinkles around his eyes deepening. “How do you feel about selling that Jeep out there to me today?”
I laugh. He asks every time he comes in. But nothing could make me give up my baby Bocephus.
“Not today, friend.” I shake my head.
“You can’t blame me for asking. It’s a beaut.”
I nod, agreeing. I’ve put more effort and energy into my rig than I have most of my romantic relationships. But I get more from Bocephus than I do from most of the booty buddies I’ve had over the years.
It might not be pretty by car standards today, but it’s got an odd sort of beauty and it’s built like a tank, which I appreciate during the snowy winters.
“You coming to dinner tomorrow?” Rhett asks.
“Sure am. What are we eating?” Friday night dinners at the Calhouns are my favorite because it’s one night that I don’t have to forage for food. I’m so there.
“Dad’s throwing together a couple of lasagnas, salad and garlic bread.”
My stomach growls hungrily as saliva floods my mouth.
Yes please. Gimme some of that.
“Miss lunch again?” Rhett asks with a chuckle.
“Yep. But that’s okay. I’ll make up the calories by eating my weight in pasta tomorrow.”
“You got your business meeting tonight, right?” he asks when I pin his ear down to trim the hair behind it.
“Yep. But you can’t join. No boys allowed.”
“Just wondering if Cassie’s going to be there.”
The question is light. Too light and the hair at the back of my neck raises.
“Oh no. No. No. No. Rhett Calhoun, do you have a thing for a certain prickly deputy?”
The back of Rhett’s neck goes cherry. If I wasn’t trimming the hair line there I would have missed the crimson that floods it. I’d bet my favorite shears that his face is a similar shade.
“No!” The denial is quick. Too quick.
Rhett Calhoun, hotshot firefighter, has a thing for Cassie. How about that?
“I could … put in a good word for you.”
“How about you mind your business?” He lifts his head to pin me with a scowl through the mirror at the back of my station.
“I’m just saying. The annual pancake breakfast is coming up, right? I could maybe ask if she wanted to go with me. You could make her a fluffy stack of buttermilks and hit it off over whether syrup or fruit is the superior breakfast bread topping.”
“Andy.” He glares at me. “You have your own love life and feelings of delusion to figure out. Butt. Out.”
My cheeks heat. “No idea what you’re talking about.”
“Mmhmm. Sure you don’t,” he says with an unsubtle glare my way.
I unsnap the cape and whip it off before leading him to the shampoo bowl, suddenly in no mood to tease him about his love life.
Because no matter that I’ve never told anyone how I feel about Jedd, Rhett’s right.
A cheerful chime accompanies the opening of Brewed Awakening’s door. I step in out of the cold, taking a second to pull my jacket off and hang it on the coat stand by the front door.
Jem, Celeste, Maisie, Meg, and Dawn are all standing around the table of refreshments that Jem sets up for our monthly meetings.
When she moved to town, she noticed there was a large number of woman-owned small businesses and organized a way for us to meet once a month to talk shop.
As a newbie in our small town, Jem used the meetings to get acclimated while bringing us all together.
It’s the old boys’ club, but cuter, with better refreshments and a gossip chain that can’t be beat.
“Hey, guys,” I call.
“Hey, Andy.” Jem grins at me. “Noticed Jedd sporting more sparkle in his smile than normal. Was that your doing?”
I nod. “Yep. But I owe the evil genius to you ladies.”
Celeste and Jem clap while Meg takes a bow.
These business meetings aren’t only about our businesses. After Jedd turned me into the pink version of Smurfette earlier this summer, I was coming up empty on what to do in retaliation when Meg suggested the double whammy of glitter bombs and the alarm clocks.
I added the confetti canons and paintball.
Note to future me: Less is more.
I grab a juice pouch and a cookie from the snack table at the front before taking my seat.
“You girls ready for busy season round two?” Meg asks to kick off the meeting once Cassie and Dawn sit down.
Winter and summer are our busiest months in Everette. Summer for the outdoor enthusiasts here to hike, camp, and fish. Winter for the ski resort that we’re less than thirty minutes from.
We get a short reprieve in the fall and spring, which we use to shore up our defenses for the next wave.
Each of the girls talks about their business, what challenges they’re facing, and their goals for the next quarter.
“What about you, Andy?” Jem asks me.
“The online booking system is showing an uptick in appointments already, and we’re probably going to be slammed. Most of my part-time girls will be moving back to full-time to make up the difference.”
And thank god for that because we’re going to need the help.
The resort on the mountain has a spa, but their prices are a little higher than ours, so bargain vacationers like to come into town for a little pampering while they’re here.
Far be it from me to turn them away.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. Freeing it, I glance at the screen, and my stomach falls to my knees.
“Be right back, it’s my sister,” I tell the group as I stand. Snagging my coat off the rack, I swipe to answer and step outside.
“Alex?”
“Aunt Andy …” the little voice on the other end of the phone has me mentally swearing with the creativity of a lifelong pirate. I can barely hear her over whatever is going on in the background.
“Pip. Hey, baby. What’s going on?” I yell into the phone. If I can barely hear her, then she probably can’t hear me either.
“It’s bad again. Can you come?”
My niece sounds terrified and knowing the shit her mother gets herself into, it isn’t a surprise. But it’s eight o’clock on a Thursday night. What in the world could Alex be doing?
Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to, Andy.
“I’m on my way honey. Are you safe?” The question chokes out of my throat on an almost-sob that I yank back and shove down so I don’t scare her.
Don’t freak out. Maybe it’s nothing.
But experience has taught me that it’s never nothing. Not when Alex is involved.