28

Priscilla

On my way to the Piney Point salon, my mind swirls with activity, and right there in the center of my thoughts is Tim. I’ve been thinking about Tim quite a bit lately, but it makes sense with the class reunion coming up. If it weren’t for him, I have a feeling the ten-year reunion would have been a total flop. But even though he made sure everything happened that was supposed to, we still had some issues . . . like Pete Moss getting drunk and crashing his truck.

The idea of thinking about Tim makes sense, but the precise thoughts are a bit disconcerting. After seeing him dressed as a clown and obviously enjoying the kids at Haley’s birthday party, I can’t help but compare him to other men I’ve felt that heart-fluttering, head-in-the-clouds chemistry with. My feelings for Tim have been positive, but I’ve never had that fiery-hot passion I expect in a romantic relationship. Being with him is comfortable, relaxed, and . . . well, easy. I can always be myself with him and not worry that he’s looking over my shoulder for something . . . or someone better.

I arrive at Prissy’s Cut ’n Curl and Ice Factory Day Spa and see a spot near the door. As I get closer, I notice that my name has been painted on the curb in front of the spot. “Reserved for Priscilla,” and I smile.

There’s a group of folks standing in the reception area, and they all turn to face me when I walk in. Chester is the first one to come forward with open arms. “Hey, girl. We wondered when you’d get here. How do you like what we’ve done?” He waves his arms around in a sweeping gesture.

The wall in front of me is covered with framed candid photos of the hairdressers and spa workers. I take a step back and look around for the full effect. Small white lights have been strategically placed to accent certain aspects of the room and décor, such as the ceiling-high wooden beam that’s a replica of what used to support the ceiling and the old-fashioned elevator that took forever to get right. Knowing they went to all this trouble brings joy to my heart and a lump of pride to my throat.

“It’s perfect.” I sigh. “I couldn’t have done better.”

Chester glances over at Sheila and winks. “We kept remembering what you said about not wanting to compromise the integrity of the old ice factory.”

“Y’all did a wonderful job.”

Someone walks in behind me, and the crowd of employees disperses as the client steps up to the appointment desk and announces she’s here for a facial. Chester enters something into the computer and leads her to the back.

“Wanna see your appointment calendar?” Sheila asks. “We tried to give you occasional breaks between clients, but it sure was difficult. It never was easy, but now that you’re a TV star, everyone wants your hands on their hair.”

I laugh. “I wouldn’t exactly call myself a TV star.”

“You do realize that near ’bout everyone in town watches every single show you’re on, right?” Sheila plants a fist on her hip and chuckles as she shakes her head. “We even have a call chain to let folks know.”

“Call chain?”

“Yeah, I call three people, and they call three people, and before ya know it, every household in Piney Point is made aware.”

“Sort of like the church prayer chain.”

Sheila nods. “Yeah, and we do that too. Most of us pray for you before you go on.”

“I certainly appreciate that. Don’t forget to add prayers for the production people. It gets rather crazy around the studios sometimes.”

“Okay, I’ll keep that in mind.” She punches a few keys on the computer and motions for me to take a peek. “Looky here. You got appointments startin’ in about fifteen minutes. I tried to give you a full hour lunch break, but with all the folks linin’ up, I could only manage a half hour.”

“That’s okay.” I’m actually glad I only have a half hour because I won’t have as much time to think about my parents, Tim, and some of the other things that have been taking over my mind lately.

“We have a station set up for you, but if you want to swap with me, I understand.”

Sheila has claimed the best position in the salon, since she’s the manager. “No, I don’t care where I am.”

“If you change your mind, just holler. It’s not a lot of trouble.”

We exchange a glance, and practically a lifetime of respect flows between us. Sheila is a seasoned professional who doesn’t mind working hard and learning whatever it takes to make her one of the best hairdressers in Piney Point. And I know she respects me for all I’ve managed to accomplish. One area where she’s ahead of me is the relationship department. She’s been married to the same man for decades, and I know they work hard at maintaining the spark in their relationship, which hasn’t been easy, considering all they’ve been through. Between her long hours at the salon and his problems with lack of job security, even the best marriage would be tested.

My morning appointments are filled with as many questions about being on TV as information about hair. Every now and then, Sheila or Chester walks by and joins in the discussion. I enjoy the camaraderie that I don’t normally have with my crazy-busy schedule.

It’s almost lunchtime, and I’m about to finish with my last morning client’s hair, when Sheila pops over to my station. “Tim’s here. He wants to take you to lunch.”

“Send him on back.”

After Sheila goes to get Tim, my client’s eyes light up. “Tim’s that fella you were with in that magazine, isn’t he?”

I nod. “Yes, Tim and I have been very good friends for quite a while.”

“You know what they say about a man and woman being good friends, right?”

I’m tempted to ask who “they” are, but I don’t want to anger her. Mother used to go ballistic when I said the vague “they.”

Tim shows up with a smile. My client’s chin drops. “You’re even better looking in person than in your pictures.”

“Pictures?” I say. “As in more than one?”

“Yes, one was in Famous People News, and then I saw another picture on Entertainment Tonight.

From behind me, I hear Sheila’s voice. “Don’t forget the series in the Piney Point Herald.”

Tim and I look at each other in the mirror, and he starts laughing. “Some people go lookin’ for fame and fortune, while others have it lookin’ for them.” He winks at me. “Looks like you fall in the second group, Priscilla.”

I level him with a look filled with attitude. “Don’t forget, Tim, I’m not the only person in those photos.”

“Yeah, but I have to admit I’m mighty proud to be seen with you.”

The look he gives me now is filled with question . . . and a hint of doubt. I swallow hard as my chest constricts. Something between us is changing, and I don’t know how to act.

“Ready for lunch?” He lifts a sandwich bag. “I wasn’t sure if you had something here or if you had time to get away, so I stopped off and picked up something for both of us.”

“Whatcha got?” I nod toward the bag.

“Turkey sub with everything—all the veggies . . . and a bag of baked chips ’cause I know they’re healthier.”

“I’ll have what you brought. My other lunch will still be good tomorrow.”

As Tim follows me back to the break room, I sense that we’re being watched. A glance over my shoulder confirms my hunch.

Without either of us having to say a word, Tim and I prepare our food. He unwraps the sandwiches and places them on paper towels, while I get drinks from the fridge—a cream soda for him and bottled water for me. I place the drinks on the table as he pours some of the baked chips beside the sandwiches. I find comfort in the familiar, and a peaceful wave flows through me.

“I been gettin’ some serious attention around town this time.” Tim lifts his sandwich and pauses. “That picture in the magazine sure did make the rounds.”

“Does that upset you?”

He purses his lips and slowly shakes his head as he holds my gaze. “Nah, in fact, I sorta like it.”

I laugh. “Not every guy would be that honest.”

He wiggles his eyebrows. “Don’t forget, Priscilla, I’m not every guy.”

“You can say that again.”

“Don’t forget, Priscilla—”

I swat at him with a napkin.

He playfully holds up his arms as a shield. “Whoa there, girl. You don’t have to go gettin’ all violent on me. I was just doin’ what you told me to.”

“So far today, all my clients have seen at least one of the pictures, and they all say the same thing . . . ” I grin and take a bite of my sandwich.

“What? That I’m the hottest guy in town, and they think we look like a royal couple?” I detect a hint of wishful thinking in his tone.

I swallow my food and smile. “Something like that.”

Redness creeps up his neck and tinges his cheeks. He coughs. “I went by Pete and Laura’s place, but no one answered the door. I think one of the kids was home ’cause I seen the blinds . . . er, I saw the blinds move.”

“Don’t take that personally.”

“I won’t. I know how they are. I just wanted to find out if Laura has my to-do list made yet.”

“Did she say she was putting you to work?”

He shrugs. “She always does, and earlier she said she would, and I don’t have any reason to believe anything will be different this time.”

“You don’t have to—”

He lifts a finger and raises his eyebrows. “I don’t have to do anything, but I want to do everything I can to make the reunion a success.”

“You’re very sweet, Tim. I think everyone appreciates all your hard work.”

“That’s nice and all, but I’m doing this for one pers—”

Sheila shows up at the door, interrupting Tim. “Your first afternoon appointment is here early. I don’t want to rush you. I just thought I’d let you know.”

“Thanks, Sheila.” I’m actually thankful she interrupted Tim because it sounded like he was about to get mushy, and I’m surprised by the way it makes me feel.

The rest of our lunchtime conversation switches to talk about less-personal topics. I’m relieved, and I think Tim might be too. Neither of us can finish our sandwiches.

“Why don’t you go on out there and take care of your client?” he asks. “I’ll clean up.” When I look at him, he makes a shooing gesture. “Go on. You don’t wanna keep folks waitin’.”

“Thank you, Tim.” I have to fight the tears that form at the backs of my eyes. Whatever is happening to me is foreign, and I’m so discombobulated I don’t know what else to say, so I scurry out of the break room.