“Yeah.” I drop my bag on the entryway table and head up the stairs, following behind her into the laundry room at the end of the hall.
“How are things and how was your visit with your parents?”
“Things are good and the visit was nice,” I say, picking up one of the boys’ T-shirts, folding it, and adding it to one of the piles. “I…” I pick up another, folding and using it as an excuse not to look at her, because I don’t want to see the disappointment in her eyes. “I have some news.”
“You’re moving and getting married,” she states, and my eyes fly up to meet hers, knowing mine are wide with surprise. “Honey, this is a small, small town, and you just took Sage Mayson off the market. Permanently. Everyone—and I mean everyone—knows about it.” She laughs, and I shake my head then still when she reaches out, taking my hand. “This is beautiful,” she murmurs, moving the engagement ring on my finger from side to side studying it.
“Thank you,” I whisper, wrapping my fingers around hers, and her eyes meet mine and soften.
“Are you happy?”
“Yes.”
“Then so am I.”
“You’re not mad at me?”
“God, no. The only way I’d be mad at you is if you didn’t flipping move in with that man. Believe me, I love my husband and my boys, but if Sage Mayson showed up at my door and asked me to move in with him, I might consider it for a half a second longer than I should before I turned him down.” She laughs and I giggle. “The boys will still want to see you.”
“I’m not moving far,” I say as an answer to that, and she nods. “Thank you for everything you’ve done and for being my friend. You and Jelikai have been so amazing to me.” I give her a hug and she squeezes me back.
“You’re a part of our family. So remember that when you leave and know you can always come back.”
“Thanks.” Tears prickle the back of my eyes, but I fight them back, tightening my hold before I let her go. Then I spend the rest of the afternoon hanging out with her until the boys get home from school. We all go out to dinner, where I promise the boys they can come to the lake house when the weather gets warm enough to go kayaking with Sage and me.
*
“PINK AND GLITTER!” Hope shouts at the top of her lungs, and I look at her mom and laugh.
“I’m not sure about pink and glitter for paint colors, honey,” Ellie says, and Hope’s face falls.
“I like it,” I say, and Ellie’s eyes come to me and widen with surprise while Hope claps in glee.
“I know the idea of painting the salon pink and glittery is a little over the top, but it could work. We could do the walls hot pink, with thick white glitter stripes. Then we could get those cool mirrors we were looking at, the squiggly ones, and put them above each station, and change out the chairs to the white and chrome ones we found.”
“Hmm.” Ellie taps her chin with her finger while Hope stands up on her chair, waiting for her mom’s reaction. “If we do that, we can then do the front of the salon white with bright accent colors. We love this couch,” she says, running her hand over the purple material. “So it could stay, and we could just add a few pops of pink and other bright colors with pillows and art.”
“That would look amazing,” I agree, and Hope tackles me, wrapping her arms around my neck. I hug her back then kiss her cheek before she settles on the floor between Ellie and me, where she goes back to coloring.
“Jax and Sage said they’d get the guys together to paint and to do the construction. So we will save a little money that way, meaning we can open up the front wall the way we wanted and add a couple more chairs,” Ellie thinks aloud.
“I love it.” I smile, and she grins back. “This is really happening, isn’t it?” I ask, and she reaches over to take my hand, giving it a squeeze before letting go.
“It is. We close tomorrow, and when that happens, this place will be ours,” she replies, looking around, and I follow her gaze around the salon, thinking that I really do love this place. Frankie helped me settle into life here, and if it wasn’t for him, I don’t know what I would have done.
“I’m sad Frankie’s leaving,” I say quietly.
Ellie’s smile disappears. “It’s not going to be the same without him.”
“No, it won’t be,” I whisper as tears start to clog my throat.
“You bitches better not be crying,” Frankie calls, coming out from the back of the shop.