“I’m going out, but I’ll be back.” I pick him up with one hand and kiss the top of his head. “Be good while I’m gone.” I set down my coffee then open the jar on the counter where I keep his doggie treats. Giving him one, I kiss the top of his head again before setting him to the ground and watching him run off with it in his mouth.
After taking the last sip from my coffee, I set the cup in the sink and fill it with water then grab my purse and keys. Locking the front door behind me, I head down the steps to my car. Seeing my neighbor, Misty, outside with her phone to her ear while she’s watering her flowers, I wave, watching her tuck the phone against her shoulder and wave back with the hose. Misty, her husband Matt, and her daughter Molli came over a few days after I moved in, welcoming me to the neighborhood with cookies, and since then, we’ve had a few over-the-fence conversations, but we haven’t really had a lot of time to get to know each other. It’s the same with my other neighbors. We wave hello and goodbye, but for the most part, everyone tends to stick to themselves.
Getting in my car, I start the engine and back out. I go to the bank first and take care of business there, then head to the salon. I park out front and get out, taking my bag with me, and head inside. I don’t remember when Ellie started doing my hair. It seems like forever ago. I used to go to a girl in Nashville, but when Ellie started working for Frankie, and my cousins started going to her, I gave her a try and haven’t gone to anyone else since.
I open the door, and the minute I spot Frankie, the owner of the salon, behind the counter, a smile splits my face.
“Harmony,” he greets me, coming around the counter toward me. Taking hold of my upper arms, he kisses both my cheeks. “How are you, gorgeous?”
“I’ve been really good. How are you?”
“Good.” He smiles then looks through the small opening in the wall to the back of the shop. “Ellie is just finishing up with her last client. You don’t have a long wait, but you do have time to get a coffee if you want one.”
“I’m having lunch with my dad across the street after this. I don’t want to ruin that by drinking too much coffee.”
“Got it.” He grins then his eyes go past my shoulder when the door chimes, and I turn to watch a woman walk in. “Jenna.” He lets me go then greets her the same way he did me, with the arm hold and cheek kiss. “I’m all set up. Are you ready?” he asks her.
“Ready.” She smiles at him.
His eyes come to me. “Make yourself comfortable. Ellie will be out soon.”
“Thanks, Frankie.” I take a seat on the purple couch in front of the window and drop my purse to my side. Pulling out my cell phone, I send a text to my dad reminding him about lunch today, and then I reply to a text from Willow who wants to go get dinner next week. I send her back a text saying yes then I send my mom a message asking if she wants to go with me to have dinner with Willow. When she responds with a yes, I send Willow another message letting her know that mom is coming along.
“Hey, girl,” Ellie says, and I shut down my phone and drop it into my bag looking up at her.
“Hey.” I stand and skirt the coffee table, giving her a hug.
“You ready?”
“Totally.” I smile at her as she takes my hand and drags me with her to the back of the salon to her station.
“I have to show you a photo. I came across it the other day, and I swear the second I saw it, all I could think is Harmony needs this haircut and color.”
“Show me.” I sit in her chair then take the photo she hands me.
“Am I right?” she asks, and I study the woman’s hair. It’s shorter than my hair is now, just below her shoulders, with lots of layers and highlights.
“I love it.” I lift my head and smile at her in the mirror.
“Do you?”
“Yeah, it’s hot. Can you do this today?” I lift the photo in my hand.
“Heck yes!” She grins at me, and I grin back.
“Then make me pretty.”
“Please, you’re gorgeous. You don’t need any help with that.” She pulls out a hot pink cape, drapes it around my shoulders, and spends three hours highlighting, lowlighting, cutting, blow-drying, and curling my hair. When she’s done, my hair doesn’t look like the woman in the photo’s hair. It looks better. The cut makes me look like the kind of woman who lives her life wild, the kind of woman who takes risks and doesn’t care what anyone else thinks.