14. Josiah #3
So I took her hand, turned it palm-up, and kissed the center of it once.
Her lips parted.
I let her go.
Juice appeared from behind the dryer bank with a microfiber cloth in his hand, but he wasn’t grinning when he looked at me.
Not at first. His eyes moved toward Celeste, who stood near the front desk with the inspection paper close and that small, relieved smile lingering on her face like it had finally found somewhere safe to rest.
“You good?”
I wiped my hands on a towel. “Yeah.”
He gave me a look. “You know lying in a salon is dangerous. Too many women in here with discernment and edge control.”
That pulled a short laugh out of me. “I’m good.”
Juice’s voice carried less joke. “You are. That’s what I’m saying. You look good. Not fine. Don’t get excited. I mean you look like something in you unclenched.”
I looked away from him.
He saw that too.
Juice stepped beside me, both of us facing the front like the dryers needed supervision.
“I remember after Domonique. You didn’t crash out.
You didn’t get bitter loud. You just got real polished with your distance.
Everybody could call you. Everybody could count on you.
But couldn’t nobody really get to you unless you handed them a visitor badge and watched the clock. ”
I swallowed and kept my eyes on the front.
Celeste glanced back then, caught me watching, and smiled before turning to answer Starr.
Juice made a low sound in his throat. “Mm-hmm. Visitor badge revoked.”
“Man.”
“What? I’m happy for you. I’m also entertained. Both can be true.”
“She’s different.”
“That don’t even make sense.”
“It made emotional sense.”
“Barely.”
He lifted the microfiber cloth and pointed toward the ladder. “But you understood me. Now come on. Help me load this before you start looking at her again and forget we still on the clock.”
By four-thirty, the salon looked like itself again.
Better than itself. The back row was powered.
Dryers ran without flicker. Stations were wiped down.
Chairs moved back. The old, scorched outlet sat in a labeled evidence bag because I wanted documentation for her records.
Darnell and Miguel loaded the last ladder into the truck.
Juice gathered the drop cloths and made one more dramatic announcement about the sacrifices he had made for beauty and public safety.
Celeste stood in the middle of the back row with both hands pressed to her mouth.
I came up beside her. “You okay?”
She nodded, but her eyes shined.
“I know it’s just wiring.”
She shook her head. “It’s not just wiring.”
I looked around the shop with her.
She lowered her hands. “This place has been one of the only things that felt like mine after everything changed. When you said the back row had to stay down, I understood. I did. But it felt like another part of my life being told to stop.” I let her talk.
She swallowed and looked at the dryers. “Now it feels like I can breathe in here again.”
The words moved through me.
I reached for her hand, slow enough for her to decide and sure enough for her to feel that I meant it. She gave it to me. I laced our fingers and held them between us, not hidden, not flaunted.
“Then take your breath back, Red. These walls aren’t fighting you anymore.”
Her eyes lifted to mine.
For a moment, I forgot the shop was full of people.
Then the front door opened, and noise poured in.
“Ma!”
Celeste turned before Sky reached her, her whole face softening as she opened her arms. Celeste laughed and opened her arms. “Skye, slow down before you take us both out.”
Skye crashed into her anyway, paper bag pressed to her chest like it held classified government property. A second girl came in behind her, backpack bouncing, hair beads clicking with every step.
Celeste looked over Skye’s head. “Zuri, please don’t run into my display.”
Zuri froze mid-step and grinned like the display had been the one in danger.
A teenage girl followed with earbuds around her neck and a sketchbook hugged against her ribs. Celeste pointed at her with motherly precision.
“Maya, one earbud out when you walk in here.”
Maya slid one earbud completely free. “It was already out.”
“It was spiritually out.”
A tall teenage boy came next, one hand gripping his backpack strap, his eyes finding me before his mother finished smiling. Celeste’s mouth softened when she saw him.
“Hey, Kay.”
He nodded at her, then looked back at me.
A young man entered last with keys in his hand, grown enough to look like he had somewhere to be but young enough to check his mama’s face first.
Celeste nodded toward the door. “JJ, lock that behind you, baby.”
JJ did, then came further inside with his attention already moving over the shop.
Celeste released my hand.
Not like she was hiding me.
Like she was making room for them to understand where I stood.
I respected that.
Skye held up her paper bag. “Mama, I brought my spelling test.”
Celeste bent to hug her. “Did you pass?”
“I got a ninety-eight because Ms. Lin said my S looked like a snake.”
Zuri looked offended on her behalf. “It did not. It looked like a stylish worm.”
Maya sighed. “That’s not better.”
JJ grinned. “It’s creative.”
Kayden said nothing.
His eyes stayed on me.
Seventeen had made him tall. Grief had made him vigilant.
He stood there with too much father in his posture and too much boy in his face. I knew that stance. Grief had taught him to stand like his shoulders could hold the roof up. I respected him.
Celeste straightened and turned toward me. Her hand rested briefly against Skye’s shoulder, but her eyes stayed on mine.
She said, “Everybody, this is Mr. Brooks.” She paused, and the next part came softer. “Josiah.” The pause did the introducing for her.
JJ noticed.
Maya noticed.
Kayden’s jaw moved once.
Zuri looked from Celeste to me, then back to Celeste. “Is he the electrician?”
“I am.”
Skye lifted her paper bag. “Did you fix the fire wall?”
Celeste moved quickly. “No fire wall.”
I smiled. “I fixed the unsafe outlets.”
Skye nodded. “Safety first.”
“That’s right.”
Zuri stepped closer and squinted at my tool belt. “Do you get electrocuted a lot?”
A chuckle pushed against the back of my throat, but I held it because her little face was serious enough to sign paperwork.
“No.”
Skye gasped. “Have you ever?”
“Enough to respect electricity.”
Zuri pointed toward my braids. “Did your hair stand up?”
“Not today.”
Skye leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Do you glow?”
The smile got away from me. “Only when the invoice gets paid.”
Celeste gave me a look. “Josiah.”
I lifted both hands. “She asked.”
Skye nodded hard. “I did.”
JJ extended his hand. “JJ Coleman.”
I shook it. “Good to meet you.”
JJ’s eyes moved toward the back row. “You too. Mama said dedicated circuits?”
“You know electrical?”
“Engineering major.”
“That explains the question.”
JJ looked toward the panel. “Can I see?”
Celeste glanced between us. “Here we go.”
I nodded toward the back. “Come on.”
JJ followed me with the curiosity of somebody who wanted the answer beneath the answer.
I showed him the panel, the labeled breakers, the separated dryer load, and the old outlet we had removed.
He listened well, asked better questions than most grown men, and nodded when I explained how a setup could function for years and be unsafe the whole time.
Kayden lingered near the edge of the conversation.
Not involved.
Not absent.
Security-detail energy with homework due.
I turned just enough to include him. “You want to see too?”
His jaw flexed. “I’m good.”
“Cool.”
I left it there. His no didn’t need to become a contest.
JJ looked at him. “You might want to learn. You always acting like you can fix stuff.”
“I can fix stuff.”
Maya glanced up from her sketchbook. “YouTube can fix stuff through you.”
Zuri gasped. “Maya.”
“What? It’s true.”
Kayden’s mouth twitched before he caught it.
Celeste caught Kayden’s half-smile and held it like something precious.
Skye came over with her spelling test and held it up to me. “See my ninety-eight?”
I bent slightly. “That’s strong work.”
She beamed. “The S was not a snake.”
I studied the paper. “Looks more like a fancy ribbon.”
Skye turned toward Zuri. “See?”
Zuri nodded. “That’s what I said but worm.”
Maya looked at me then, her eyes careful and bright. “You really fixed everything?”
“Yes.”
“So the dryers won’t mess up again?”
“Not from what we repaired.”
“That’s not a yes.”
“It’s an honest answer.”
She held my gaze for another second, then nodded like honesty had passed inspection. “Okay.”
Kayden crossed his arms. “How long is the warranty?”
Celeste closed her eyes. “Kayden.”
I held back a smile.
Parole-board energy in Nikes.
I answered him without laughing. “One year on labor. Manufacturer warranty on parts. But if something acts wrong, your mother has my number.”
His eyes narrowed. “I know.”
JJ coughed into his hand.
Maya looked at the ceiling.
Zuri whispered loudly to Skye, “Kayden is doing his man voice.”
Skye whispered back louder, “It’s not working.”
Celeste pressed her lips together, but her eyes gave her away.
I didn’t laugh.
Grief had handed him a grown man’s assignment with a teenage boy’s tools.
Celeste touched his arm. “Kay.”
He looked down at her, and the hard line of his mouth eased by a fraction.
She said, “I wanted y’all to meet him because he’s important to me.”
The salon changed without going silent.
Kayden looked back at me.
This was the introduction that mattered.
I stepped closer, but not too close. “I respect that.”
Kayden’s jaw tightened. “Respect what?”
“Being important to your mother means I don’t get to be careless around your family.”
His stare held mine.
I kept my voice even. “I’m not here to take anybody’s place. I’m not here because I need y’all to make room for me before you’re ready. I’m here because your mother matters to me. That means everything she loves matters too.”
Celeste’s eyes shined, but she stayed where she was.