Betty left and Daddy arrived and he said, “Cute little trim you gave Dakota the other day.” He leaned on my doorframe. He was drinking bourbon or something equally as brown from a tumbler. Rabbit was at his side, sitting obediently. I scratched her ears and she licked my wrist.
“Looks good on her. I don’t usually hire short-haired girls. Men don’t love it.”
“That’s a pretty big generalization.”
“Her sales have picked up. You did good.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I used to cut my ma’s—” I paused. Daddy waited. And then I said, “Wait, how did you know I was the one who cut Dakota’s hair?”
Daddy only winked.
I said, “Do you want to come in?”
And he almost did, that night. I saw it in his eyes.