Chapter 4
Savannah Rodgers
"What was that?" Bree asked, staring at me with wide eyes and a shocked expression from behind the front desk. My heart was still racing a little from the interaction with my new customer, and I did my best to pretend everything was normal.
"I'm sorry," I said, making sincere eye contact with her.
"You gave away my candy bowl."
"I know. At least he left the candy. And I'll bring something else up here. I have another dish sort of thing we can try there, or I'll just make another one."
"I'm just messing with you. It's your bowl, and you can do whatever you want with it. I'm just surprised you gave it to him. Were you flirting?" She smiled and looked hopeful, and I shook my head.
"Not even close. He just looked like someone I used to know, and he was really nice. He was asking me about my mosaics. Most of my customers aren't that interested."
"They're just scared you're going to quit doing hair. They don't want to encourage you."
I laughed and shook my head.
"Did he give you cash for the haircut?" she asked.
He had indeed given me cash. There was a whole exchange with the bowl where we had to figure out where to put the candy, and in the midst of that, he handed me cash.
I told him the bowl was a gift, and yet he still handed me a wad of cash.
He said it was for the haircut and tip. There was a hundred-dollar bill showing, and there wasn't just one bill in the stack.
I had no idea how much money he had handed me because he was so calm and quick with it.
He handed it to me in such a way that I knew he had it prepared in his pocket.
"I'm just going to keep the cash," I said to her, even though I knew she hated that.
Bree was a stickler for having her drawer come out even at the end of her shift, which I appreciated.
But it was my salon, and I wasn't going to mess with giving her the cash when I could just keep it in my pocket.
She knew I wouldn't question her about it at the end of the day.
She was just giving me a hard time because she liked her drawer to be even.
Bree had been the manager and a stylist in Cleveland at the retirement community where I worked.
She moved to Pittsburgh and came to work for me when I opened my salon there.
She liked being a manager more than doing hair, so it was a perfect move for her.
She had been with me long before I first moved and opened the doors eighteen months earlier.
She was rock solid. She was with me during the last three years of my bad relationship in Cleveland, and she was a God-send during the break-up and the move.
"Just mark it a comp," I said.
She still squinted at me.
"It's all… going to be… okay," I said slowly, giving her a hard time for being so meticulous.
"I'm not making a face at that. I'm doing it because you were flirting with that guy."
"I wasn't."
"Please let me get my hopes up. I thought he would be good for you. He was really good-looking."
I gave her a small shrug of my shoulder like I didn't care. "Objectively he was good-looking, but you know that doesn't matter to me. I have other customers who are good-looking."
"Not that good looking," she said with wide eyes. "And I'm proud of you," she said. "I’m not giving you a hard time about it. I love it that you're checking him out."
"I'm not checking him out," I insisted
"You gave him a bowl."
"Basically, he paid me for it. He gave me a hundred dollars for that haircut." What I meant was that he had given me (at least) a hundred dollars for the haircut. I regretted saying any amount of money.
"Forty isn't that much for that bowl," she said, stating what his change would have been.
"I'm sorry I gave away your candy bowl," I said.
"No, I'm just saying. If he gets the bowl, he's at least flirt-worthy."
"He's not. I mean, he is, but I wasn't flirting. He was just a nice person, and I was being nice to him."
"Why didn't you ask him about rescheduling? Why were you nervous?"
"Did I seem nervous?" I asked, trying to sound extra easy-going.
"No, I'm just wondering why you didn't reschedule him. You do that with everyone else."
"He's not from here," I said. "He was just passing through town. I knew he wouldn't be back, that's why I felt like I should give that bowl to him today."
I had been nervous because I was overwhelmed.
This guy was familiar to me. I had spent a summer with a neighborhood boy when my mom was married to my second stepdad.
That was in Chicago, and he was from Chicago, and the whole haircut, all I did was try to ignore the fact that he looked identical to a grown-up version of that boy.
EJ was his name, and this guy's name was Edward Paul. It made sense that the name EJ would be short for Edward, but there was no way the same guy from the summer in Chicago would land in my chair in Pittsburgh all these years later.
I had a hard time shaking the confusion I felt as a result of this customer. He was exactly like the boy I knew years ago. The whole interaction had been a whirlwind, and I found myself lost in thought about it as I absentmindedly adjusted things on the front desk.
"I know you're not interested, and I'm not trying to be pushy or anything, but just so you know, it looked like he was checking you out."
"Well, it's a good thing I'm never gonna see him again because I won't have to break it to him that I don't date."
"You might date again one day," she said. "No one said you're broken forever."
I gave her a playful grimace. "Not needing a man doesn't make me broken. You of all people know that. It's the opposite. I'm quite happy now that this place is doing well and I can pay Gabe back. I'm ready to be fully self-sufficient."
"I know, and I know how hard you work. I'm proud of you."
"It's not about being attracted to him. I'm just amazed that he looks so much like somebody I knew when I was a kid," I said out loud, since I was unable to stop thinking about it.
"What? What if he is that person?" she asked, getting too excited. "Did you like this person? Would it be likely that he would look you up and come to get a haircut? Could it be the same guy?"
"Well, I thought about it the whole time I cut his hair, honestly. But if that were the case, wouldn't he say something to me about it? He wouldn't just sit there and let me cut his hair like he didn't know me, would he?"
"I have no idea. You did give him a bowl."
"How crazy," I said, shaking my head and staring blankly at the countertop. "I’m taking a lunch," I added, snapping out of it. "I have fifteen minutes before my next one, so I'm going in the back to eat."
As I was saying that, the salon phone rang. I hesitated on the other side of the counter while Bree answered it. I had no idea why, but in that instant, I thought it was Edward calling back, and I hesitated.
"Thanks for calling Van Rodgers Salon, this is Bree speaking.
How can I help you? (a pause) Yes sir, Mr. Paul," Bree said in a normal tone, but staring at me with wide eyes as she held the phone to her ear.
She listened. I waited. Suddenly, it crossed my mind that he had accidentally handed me too much money and he was coming back to get the rest of it.
Or maybe something was wrong with the haircut.
I listened, but I couldn't hear what he was saying.
"Of course," she said, breaking into movement. She started doing the familiar motions of working on the computer to book an appointment.
The thought of Edward coming back to the salon gave me a feeling that was something akin to having butterflies.
I had not experienced butterflies in a long time, and with my decision to no longer fully trust men, I thought that sensation was over for me.
I knew nothing would come of it, but those feelings were fun to experience, and I had to stifle a smile.
"Yes, sir. Some of our gentlemen clients come every three or four weeks, and some go as long as every eight weeks or more. Given the length of your hair, I would tend to go on the shorter side of that, maybe four weeks. (a pause) Oh, two? Sure. I can check her availability in two weeks."
She glanced at me with those wide eyes again, and I had the feeling that I was going on a roller coaster, but I pretended everything was normal and just gave her a little shrug.
"Do Fridays work for you? (a pause) Yes, she usually works one Saturday a month, but those book up.
She does work that week, but it's full. I can check the next one for you. The next one she has is in May, so that wouldn’t work…
I could make a note. (a pause) Uh, oh… are you sure?
Because I can make a note to call you if anything opens up for her Saturday this month. "
I started to tell her to go ahead and double-book me, but she made an expression like she was concentrating on what he was saying.
"Okay, if you're sure, I'll just put you down on Friday, two weeks from now. I only have one spot that day, and it's at 2pm. Would you be interested in that? (a pause) Okay, sounds great, we'll see you then."
Again, she glanced at me, and I gave her a shrug. She continued speaking to him without missing a beat.
"All right, well, I have you down for a haircut with Savannah two weeks from today. Just call us if you need to reschedule. We do ask that you give a day's notice."
I wanted to wave her off and tell her not to worry about saying any of that, but I just stood there and let her do her job.
"Yes," she said. She listened with a smile. "Aw, I'm so happy to hear that. I'll make sure to tell her. Thanks for coming in today. I have you down for Friday the tenth at two. (a pause) Thank you. We'll see you then."
She hung up the phone and made a face at me, sticking out her bottom lip and gazing at me like she was judging me. "I guess he is coming back," she said.
"Was that the guy who just came in here?" I asked dumbly. My heart was beating double speed, but I just held the unaffected expression, pretending I was waiting for her answer.
"Yes. Edward Paul, going for half the time I recommended to him. Who gets a haircut every two weeks?"
"Gabe."
"He's the landlord," she said. "What normal person?"
"Lots of guys do. Some get weekly cuts."
"None of your clients, though."
"I know."
"I thought you said he'd never be back."
"I thought he wouldn’t. What did he say?"
"He said he loves the haircut. He told me to tell you he loves it. Obviously, he does because he's coming back in two weeks for another one."