Chapter Twenty-Eight

Brianna pulled a section of her hair back and clipped it into place. “I’m just going to do a two-strand twist. Is that okay?” She studied Amari’s face in the mirror.

“That’s fine. But I can show you how to do cornrows if you want.”

“No.” Brianna dipped her fingers into the hibiscus-scented shea butter and rubbed it into her hair.

“Get it all the way to the ends, baby.” Amari chewed her lip as she watched Brianna work her hair through her fingers.

“I’m not a baby, Mama.” Brianna frowned in the mirror at her mother.

“I know. It’s an expression. You’re a big girl. That’s why I’m teaching you how to do your hair by yourself.”

“I like it when you do it. Grammy pulls too hard.”

“Grammy does pull hard. That’s why I keep mine short.”

Brianna’s gaze settled on Amari’s face. “Aren’t you going to be around to do my hair?”

The fearful tone of voice underscored her worry, and the pain of Rebecca’s death flared.

Amari swallowed on a dry throat. “I’ll do your hair as long as you want me to. But knowing how to take care of your hair is important.”

“I don’t think I can get the parts straight.”

“When you’re learning, it doesn’t have to be perfect.”

“Okay.” Brianna began twisting her hair between her fingers, her face a mask of concentration. She lifted her gaze to Amari’s in the mirror. “Mama, if it looks bad will you help me?”

“Of course. But you’re doing well. Try to keep it tight but not too tight. And if you’re not happy with how it looks, you can start over.”

Brianna continued to twist the strands together. “I like my puffs, but Sheila at school said it was a baby hairstyle. I’m not a baby.”

“Shelia was rude to say that.”

“She gets her hair done at a shop.”

“Would you like to go to a salon?”

“No. They smell funny.” Brianna finished twisting her hair. “Is this where I stop?”

“That’s perfect.” Amari held up the jar. “Get a little bit on your fingers. Rub it on the ends of your hair and make a coil around your finger to finish it.”

Brianna followed Amari’s instructions. “Like this, Mama?”

“Exactly like that.”

Brianna turned to Amari. “Did you do Mommy’s hair?”

“I did.”

“You loved Mommy.” Brianna drew circles with her finger over the vanity countertop.

“Very much.”

“Do you love Ms. Thalia like you loved Mommy?” Brianna’s brow furrowed.

Amari placed the jar of conditioner on the countertop. “Why are you asking?”

“Because Grammy told Mrs. Green that you were in love with Ms. Thalia and were going to ask her to live with us.”

Amari scrubbed her hand over her face. “Well, I haven’t said that to Ms. Thalia yet.” She studied Brianna’s expression. “Does that bother you?

“No. I like Ms. Thalia. She smells good. Like cookies. Do you think she would let us bring Lucy to the bookstore?”

“We can ask. Lucy’s a big dog, and some people might be afraid of her. Why was Grammy talking about me to Mrs. Green?”

“They talk about everyone when they drink coffee. Mr. Miller is going to ask Mrs. Zettler to marry him.”

Amari blinked. “Isn’t Mrs. Zettler already married to someone else?”

“He died.”

“I don’t know if you should be hanging out with Grammy and Mrs. Green.” Amari rested her hands on her hips.

Brianna tilted her head to the side. “Are you going to do Ms. Thalia’s hair?”

“She hasn’t asked me to.

“You should. Her hair looks like she needs help with it.”

Amari failed to still her laugh.

Brianna turned back to the mirror. “And when you love someone, you do their hair. Like you. And Grammy, even if she pulls too hard.”

★

Thalia finished shelving a rare signed copy of The Stone Gate. The click of computer keys was the only other sound in the bookshop. “Are you hungry?”

“Yes, but I want to finish up the last of this inventory entry.” Amari glanced up from the keyboard. “Fifteen minutes? Or are you starving?”

“I can wait.” The glint off a chrome bumper drew Thalia’s attention. She peered through the front window. Her stomach soured as the baby-blue ’58 Buick Roadmaster parked across the street from the bookstore. Her ex, Shelly, exited the car, strolled around the front of the vehicle, and opened the passenger door. A tall woman got out. Shelly held out her arm. Unable to look away, Thalia strode to the display window. She rested her hand on the wide wood frame. Shelly tilted her head and made eye contact through the window before she lifted her hand and waved at Thalia. She and the woman strolled along the sidewalk, so close their shoulders touched. Thalia watched until they entered Ohana’s.

“Assholes.” Thalia stepped back from the window.

“Friends of yours?”

The coolness in Amari’s tone made Thalia turn toward her. “My ex. And Riely, the woman she assured me was just a friend for the year before I finally kicked her out.”

Amari jammed her hands into her pockets and turned away from the window. “This town is ridiculously small at times.”

Thalia reached out and touched Amari’s shoulder. “You okay?”

“Just peachy.” Amari shrugged off Thalia’s touch.

“Amari?”

Amari turned toward Thalia her eyes dark, brows sharply furrowed.

“What’s going on with you?”

“Do you remember me talking about the girlfriend I had who struck Brianna?”

“Yes… Wait. Shelly?”

“No. Riely.”

Thalia covered her hand with her mouth. “I don’t know if I want to laugh, cry, or vomit.”

“Likewise.” Amari paced in the small space.

Thalia crossed the room and stepped behind the counter. “You know what I’ve always wanted to do?”

“What?” Amari stopped and turned toward her.

“You know that video of Queen Bey smashing the hell out of cars in that gorgeous yellow dress?”

“Yes. And your point?” Amari rubbed her brow.

Thalia lifted a metal bat from behind the counter and placed it on the dark wood.

“Where did that come from?”

“Nico brought it out the other day. He’s worried about me working alone in the evenings.”

Amari lifted her shoulders and let them fall. “I have a serious aversion to going to jail. And I would prefer you did not do anything to end up there either.”

“There’s no law about busting up your own car.”

Amari looked toward the ceiling. “That’s your car? Why does she have your car? And why would you ever consider wrecking it? It’s gorgeous and a classic. They aren’t worth that kind of trouble.”

Thalia shrugged and replaced the bat behind the counter. “I know. Just a thought. I’m mostly mad at myself for not pushing the car thing. I’ve let it go so long it’s awkward now.”

“Awkward or not, it’s your property and you have a right to it. How long has it been?” Amari walked to the window and peered out.

“Four years this January.”

“Outrageous she thinks she has the right to keep it. They deserve each other. Look at that: in addition to being reprehensible humans, they don’t read well either. They’re parked illegally.”

Thaila joined Amari at the window. “Fantastic. This is better than the bat fantasy.” She pulled her phone from her pocket and tapped in a number. She took a deep breath and blew it out while the phone rang. “Hi, Peggy. It’s Thalia. I’m fine. I just wanted to let you know some asshole is parked in one of your ten-minute pickup spots. Nope, I saw them go in to Ohana’s. Yeah, no problem. You’re welcome.”

“How long do you think it will take Peggy to have the towing company here?” Amari failed to stifle her grin.

“Not long.” Thalia looped her arm around Amari’s waist. “Would you like to have dinner at Ohana’s? If we time it right, we can have a front row seat to them watching the car being towed.”

Amari’s laugh bounced off the ceiling and settled firmly in Thalia’s heart.