Beauty Shop Tales. Nancy Thompson Robards

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СКАЧАТЬ at me.

      Oh, leave me alone. I close my eyes again, feeling the first waves of the Dramamine. That foggy, far-off haziness that clouds the head before it closes the eyes is creeping up on me.

      “Okay, you get partial credit for being here,” says the wise guy.

      Partial credit? Like I care. I swallow a yawn.

      “But to get full credit, you have to tell me your favorite part of the flight.”

      I’m tempted to tell him where to put his favorite part. To leave me alone so I can go to sleep and wake up when we’re safely back on the ground. But this guy is persistent. It’ll be a long, uncomfortable flight if I piss him off. I revert to Hollywood truth number four: Tell them what they want to hear and they’ll go away.

      “My favorite part of the flight?”

      He nods.

      My mouth is dry, but I manage to say, “When they open the door at the gate. Now leave me alone so I can go to sleep. My Dramamine is kicking in.”

      “Come on,” he says. “You can do better than that.”

      “Excuse me?”

      “That’s a cop-out. Opening the door at the gate is not part of the flight. The flight’s over.”

      “Well, it’s certainly better than the take off—”

      I gesture at the air to indicate the turbulent departure, only to realize we’ve leveled off and are cruising at that smooth, steady pace that’s almost bearable.

      He smiles and takes the in-flight magazine out of the seat pocket. “Sleep well.”

      

      MIRACULOUSLY, I do manage to sleep most of the nonstop flight. My eyes flutter open to the sound of the flight attendant’s announcement asking everyone to secure their tray tables and return their seats to the upright position as we prepare to land in Orlando.

      I stretch and rub my stiff neck.

      “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” says the cowboy.

      “It’s not over yet.”

      Vaguely wondering what a guy like him was doing in L.A., I retrieve my purse from under the seat, pull out my Lancôme Dual Finish compact and the red lipstick I got in the free gift when I purchased the powder. Something to distract me while we get this last part of the journey over with.

      Out of the corner of my eye, I see him watching me primp.

      “Are you visiting Orlando or coming home?”

      “Neither.” I blot my lips and check the mirror to make sure my lipstick is on straight. “I’m from a small town over on the east coast.”

      “Cocoa Beach?”

      I shake my head. “Sago Beach.”

      He nods. “It’s pretty over there. Visiting family?”

      I snap the compact shut, drop the cosmetics into my purse and look him square in the eyes, ready to give him the polite brush-off. Only then do I realize just how cute this guy is. Nice face. So totally not my type.

      For a split second, I hope I didn’t do something repulsive while I slept, like drool, or snort, or sit there with my mouth gaping open.

      I could only do things like that around Chet. My foot finds the bag with his ashes, and I blink away the thought. It doesn’t matter how I appeared to the cowboy while I was sleeping. Rubbing the place where my wedding ring should’ve been with my thumb, I say, “I’m moving back.”

      “Welcome home.”

      “Thank you.”

      Home. Hmm. I suppose Sago Beach has always been home, even when I was away.

      Hollywood certainly never was.

      It was something I had to get out of my system—like a bad boyfriend who treated me unkindly and sent me running back to my mother. Only this bad relationship lasted seventeen years and cost me my husband and my youth. Chet was really the one who wanted to live there because it was good for our careers. But come to find out, I can take my career anywhere. Just like now that I’m bringing it back home to my mother’s salon.

      “The name’s Max Wright.” He extends a hand. I shake it. “What’s yours?”

      “Avril.”

      The plane hits another air pocket. I grope for the armrests. In my panic, I end up grabbing his arm and releasing it as if it burns.

      “Sorry.”

      He smiles, a little half smile, and I like the way the outer corners of his eyes tilt down. “Just relax, Avril. The worst part is over.”

      Hollywood truths one and two kick in and I want to believe him.

      Yeah, now that I’m home the worst is just about over.

      I believe that for about fifteen minutes—until we deplane and make our way to baggage claim, where my mother and half the population of Sago Beach are standing under a banner that proclaims Welcome home, Avril!! Sago Beach’s very own beauty operator to the stars.

      CHAPTER 2

      I want to die.

      Truly, I do.

      Because I hate surprises. My mother knows it. Still, once she gets an idea in that red head of hers, she tends to forget everything outside the scope of her plan.

      The surprise banner-flying airport welcoming committee—a collection of at least twenty of Sago Beach’s finest—has my mother’s name written all over it.

      The scene unfolds as the escalator carries me from the main terminal down to baggage claim, and I reconcile that, ready or not, this is small-town life. It’s nothing like Hollywood, where you’re invisible unless you’re the It Girl of the Moment.

      I have two choices: I can either turn and hightail it back up the escalator, or suck it up and greet them like a decent person. It only takes a split second to decide that despite the embarrassment factor of seeing my name along with the words Sago Beach’s very own beauty operator to the stars, emblazoned in bright letters on a long sheet of brown craft paper, I’m touched that these people would take the time to make a banner, much less come all the way to Orlando—a good hour’s drive from the coast—to make me feel welcome.

      Ready or not, I’m home.

      “All this is for you?” Max smiles and a dimple winks at me from his left cheek.

      I hitch the tote with Chet’s ashes upon my shoulder, feeling oddly sheepish and a little unfaithful that all of them will see a strange man talking to me.

      “Beauty operator to the stars, huh?” He whistles. “I didn’t realize I was sitting next to royalty.”

      “They’re СКАЧАТЬ