Lovebird Café Box Set

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Lovebird Café Box Set Page 53

by Dylann Crush


  “You want me to take that for you?” Moriah held out a hand for the dustpan.

  I loosened my grip. “Thanks.”

  April ran her palm over the pale pink leatherette seat in front of my station, probably making sure I’d cleaned it off after my last client. I stepped around the chair to wash my hands in the sink. Wouldn’t want her to accuse me of unsanitary business practices.

  “Take a seat.” I waited for her to get settled before spreading a cape over her shoulders and fastening it behind her neck. “What brings you in this morning?”

  “Just a quick touch up on the roots. I usually go every eight weeks but I’ve been taking some of those biotin pills and I tell you, my hair’s never grown so fast.”

  I ran my fingers through her hair. It did seem pretty healthy despite the constant processing she must put it through. “Any idea what color your regular stylist uses so I can match?”

  April shrugged. “No idea. I just let her do her thing. She’s so hard to get into though. And what with our reunion this weekend, I just had to get this taken care of.”

  Our reunion. Tightness radiated through my chest at the reminder. I’d received the invitation to my fifteenth high school reunion over a month ago. They always held them the same weekend as the Homecoming game in the hopes that those lucky enough to escape Swallow Springs after graduation might come back for the festivities. Then there were those of us who’d never had the chance to get away, like me.

  “You are coming to the reunion, aren’t you?” April asked. “You weren’t there for the last one, and those of us still here in town need to demonstrate that Swallow Springs hospitality and welcome everyone back.”

  Was she for real? Hadn’t anyone ever told her that it’s best not to annoy someone when you’re sitting in their chair and they have scissors, clippers and chemicals at their disposal? “I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to make it so I didn’t send in my RSVP.”

  “Oh, that’s okay. We had a few cancellations so we’ll have plenty of extra food. It’s not fair for the planning committee to get stuck covering for the people who can’t commit. I’d be happy to sell you a ticket today.”

  I tried taking in a slow, calming breath as I considered how best to decline her generous offer without sticking a rat tail comb in her eye. April was single-handedly responsible for my miserable senior year. She and her posse made sure everyone in Swallow Springs, and for at least a fifty mile radius, was aware of my bad judgment. Ironic seeing as how she held herself above judgment for passing judgment on me in the first place. There had to be something worse in life than being a seventeen-year-old, pregnant, almost high school dropout. Although, in my thirty-two years I had yet to experience whatever that might be.

  “I’m going to go mix up the color. Make yourself comfortable, okay?”

  She nodded, already sucked in by the front cover of a celebrity magazine. I left her sitting in my chair like she owned the place, an attitude only someone like April could pull off. While I mixed a combination of colors with developer, I mulled over what she’d said. Did I want to go to the reunion? I hadn’t seen many of my classmates since graduation. Most of them had moved on and left the tiny town of Swallow Springs, Missouri, behind. Thanks to my mom and her extensive gossip network, I’d kept up on the major news. I’d always dreamed I’d be the one to leave Swallow Springs in my rear view mirror. I’d head off to college and make my way in the business world. When I came back for my reunion I’d be somebody people would look up to. I’d pictured the exact scenario more times than I could count while I worked my way through my junior and senior year.

  But all that changed when one bad decision left me pregnant, scared, and alone. I went from Swallow Springs’s best shot at finally having a National Merit Scholar to barely making it out of high school. I even had to wrap up my diploma by doing independent study after my son Rodney was born. The superintendent did let me walk across the stage with the rest of the graduating class. But that brought an abrupt end to my legacy of scholastic achievements.

  It made me madder than a hatter that someone like April could still make me feel bad about that. She’d had the opportunity to get her degree. Instead, she married her high school sweetheart right after graduation and followed him off to college. Four years later she came back with two toddlers and established herself as the local expert on child rearing and mommy-dom.

  I brushed a hunk of hair away from my face with the back of my hand. I’d made peace with my decisions, so why was April getting to me today? It probably had to do with the fact that my son would be playing in the Homecoming game and it would be the first time I might find myself face to face with some not-so-pleasant memories of my past. Steeling myself to face her again, I took in a deep breath. Her opinions might have mattered all those years ago, but I’d grown up since then. No way would I let her bring me down.

  She looked up, meeting my gaze in the mirror as I started applying color to her roots. “I hear Rodney’s playing for the varsity team this year.”

  I nodded, not wanting to engage in conversation with April, of all people, about my son.

  “It’s hard to believe you have a kid old enough to play for Judd, isn’t it?” She shook her head, making it difficult to keep the color in one place.

  I didn’t waste breath reminding her that her oldest son was only about nine months younger than mine. They were in the same grade, had been since preschool. “Hold still, please, unless you want more than your roots touched up.”

  “So is he any good?”

  “I doubt your husband would let him play varsity if he wasn’t.”

  She turned a page in the magazine. “Is he going to the dance?”

  Wasn’t any business of April’s what my son’s social life might entail. “He’s more interested in the game.”

  “Too bad we weren’t like that in high school. I couldn’t wait to go to the dance. Remember senior year when the Homecoming court rode around the field on the back of that wagon? Whose great idea was that? I had hay coming out of my hair for days.”

  I didn’t acknowledge the jab. I’d been in charge of the festivities that year, a fact I’m sure April had no trouble remembering. We’d tried to make the halftime program more about fall as opposed to the hyped beauty pageant feel it had always had in years’ past.

  April continued to flip through her celebrity rag while I finished applying the color. “I’m going to have you sit under the dryer for a little bit to set your highlights. Do you want anything to drink? A water? Some sweet tea?”

  She shook her head. “I’m on a cleanse. Gotta fit into that dress I wore to the dance our senior year.”

  “You’re wearing your Homecoming dress from senior year to the reunion?” I doubted I’d be able to fit any of my formals from high school around my upper thigh.

  “Of course.” She looked at me like I was the crazy one who’d held onto her wardrobe for fifteen years.

  I got her settled under the dryer. “I’ll be back to check on you in a bit.”

  An hour later, April’s hair had been colored and trimmed. She’d had me redo the style three times even though she said she was just heading to the gym afterward. With a grateful heart that our time together was drawing to a close, I led her to the front counter so she could settle up.

  “You know, I’m a little short on cash.” April reached into her bag and pulled out two tickets. “Why don’t you take a pair of tickets for the reunion Saturday night and we’ll call it good?”

  “You want to pay me off in dinner tickets?” I knew helping April out would bite me in the ass. Now I wasn’t even going to get paid for the painful hour I’d spent primping her into perfection.

  “You get two drink tickets with each.” She reached out to take one of the dinner tickets back. “You didn’t mention a date. Here, why don’t you just keep one?”

  I slapped my hand down on top of the ticket. “I have a date.” Like hell I’d let her shortchange me, even though I had no idea who I’
d be able to scrounge up to go with me on such short notice.

  “You do?”

  “Why are you so surprised?” I cocked my head, daring her to voice her concerns out loud.

  “It’s just…I haven’t heard about you seeing anyone.”

  She hadn’t heard…as if she had a right to know everything about everyone in our little town. “Maybe because it’s none of your business.”

  April’s hand flew to her chest like I’d just insulted her mama, her daddy, and her firstborn son. “You don’t have to be so unfriendly. Keep the ticket. I can’t wait to meet your date on Saturday night.”

  “Great. We’re both looking forward to it.”

  She thrust her arm through the strap of her purse and hefted it onto her shoulder. “Until then…”

  I waited as she scooted through the door—without leaving any kind of tip, of course. Just once I wouldn’t mind seeing April Waite get taken down a peg or two. Maybe this was the year I could finally sit in the stands at the football game and hold my head high.

  The euphoria that washed over me at her hasty exit slowly dissipated as reality set in. I’d just promised to show up on Saturday night with a date. April would know of every eligible option within a fifty-mile radius. That meant I needed fresh blood—someone who didn’t live around Swallow Springs. Better yet, someone who’d never even heard of Swallow Springs, Missouri. Where was I going to find a potential plus one with only four days’ notice?

  3

  Theo

  One down and one to go. I’d spent the morning giving presentations to a couple hundred elementary school kids in Nevada, Missouri. Now I had just enough time to grab lunch before making my next stop at a junior high over in Stockton. If I’d calculated the route right, I’d be able to make a quick stop along the way and see if there was any truth to the video clip I’d seen last week. I couldn’t get the image of hundreds of bats flying from the mouth of a cave entrance out of my mind. I’d checked all of the location resources we had, but we’d never marked anything close to Swallow Springs, Missouri.

  As I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel to one of my favorite playlists, I navigated my truck down the main road in Swallow Springs. It wasn’t as bad as most of the small towns I passed through when I took the rural back roads. Based on the colorful awnings lining the street, someone must be putting forth some effort to revitalize the downtown. So many of the out-of-the-way places I visited had boarded up doors and dusty windows. It was nice to see a small town with a little bit of life.

  A bright blue awning caught my eye. The Lovebird Café. Seemed like as good a place as any to grab a bite and try to strike up a conversation with a few locals. I pulled over to the curb and parked on the street. As I pushed through the glass door into the café, the smell of fresh baked bread snugged around me like a favorite blanket. My mom used to make bread every Sunday, enough to last us the whole week. If their bread tasted half as good as it smelled, they might have to pry me off my stool at the counter and roll me out the door.

  “Come on in and sit wherever.” A woman’s voice greeted me as I walked in, although she moved so fast all I saw was a flash of blue and white.

  I took a stool at the counter, my mouth already watering in anticipation of some down home country cooking.

  “Coffee?” She stopped in front of me, a carafe gripped in one hand and a clean mug in the other.

  Nodding, I reached for a menu from the holder in front of me. “Thanks.”

  “Cream? Sugar?” She’d already set the carafe down and moved on to plating a piece of pie from the pastry case.

  “No thanks. Just black.”

  “Be back to get your order in a minute.” Her hands full of plates overflowing with desserts, she moved from behind the counter to make her deliveries to the handful of customers.

  While I waited for her to return, I scanned the menu. According to the big black print on the front, they served breakfast all day. My stomach rumbled as I tried to decide between the Farmer’s Omelet and the Meatloaf Platter with homemade mashed potatoes.

  Maybe the guy with the grizzled beard and trucker hat pulled down over his brow could make a recommendation. He looked like he might be a regular.

  I swiveled my stool to the left. “Hey, you come here often?”

  He glanced up at me, the space between his eyebrows scrunched, as he shoveled another bite of his lunch into his mouth.

  A deep throaty laugh came from behind me. “Does that line work very often?”

  “What?” I turned to my right and met a bright green gaze.

  The woman grinned, her lips curving up into a flirtatious smile. “I don’t think you’re Buzz’s type.”

  Heat crept up my neck, flushing over my cheeks. “I just wanted to ask what he might recommend.”

  “You can’t go wrong with the chicken fried steak. Make sure you ask for extra biscuits. They’re to die for.”

  Biscuits. This woman was speaking my love language and she had no idea. I let my gaze travel down her honey-blonde hair, past slim shoulders, following her petite frame. She didn’t look like she ate many biscuits herself.

  “And yes, I come here often.” She wrapped her fingers around the brown paper bag the waitress set down in front of her then hopped off her stool. “Thanks, Cassie. Can you put it on my tab?”

  “You know your money’s no good here.” The waitress waved her off then turned to me. “So are you going to go for the chicken fried steak?”

  “Sounds like I can’t go wrong with that.”

  “You got it.” Cassie scribbled something down on a notebook then whirled around and clipped it above the window to the kitchen before scooting away.

  I turned toward the woman holding the bag. “Thanks for the recommendation. I’d offer to buy you a cup of coffee, but it looks like you’re heading out.”

  “I’d say maybe next time, but you don’t look like you’re from around here.” She cocked a hip, possibly waiting to see how much information I’d divulge.

  “What makes you say that?”

  She tilted her chin down and eyed me with a tinge of suspicion. “Because I am from around here, and I haven’t seen you before.”

  “Ah, the local wants to know who’s moving in on her biscuit turf?”

  “Just curious.” One shoulder lifted in a half shrug. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”

  I glanced around the café. The lunch crowd was petering out, and the gentleman on my left already proved he wasn’t much of a conversationalist. The chatty blonde might be my best bet of getting some info on the cave from the photo. “Actually”—I leaned toward her, lowering my voice—“you’re right. I’m not from around here. I’m hoping to get a little information about something I saw online recently.”

  “Oh, yeah?” She set the bag back down on the counter. “What kind of something?”

  I reached into my back pocket and pulled out my phone. “Do you know anything about the caves around here?”

  “That depends on who’s asking and who wants to know.”

  “Check this out.” I tilted my phone so she could get a better look. She glanced at the screen as the video started. When the last few frames flashed past and the kid appeared, her brows shot up.

  “You know that kid?”

  “I’m sorry, who did you say you are?” she asked.

  “I didn’t.” She looked like the kind of woman who didn’t appreciate bullshit so I decided to be straight with her. “I’m Theo Wilder. I’m with a non-profit organization. We educate the public and work with endangered and at-risk species of bats.”

  The furrow on her brow deepened. “Bats? Like the creepy things that fly around?”

  I couldn’t help the way my shoulders bristled. “They’re mammals. And they’re actually vital to the environment, especially with all of the farmers you probably have around here.”

  “So, yes to the creepy flying things?”

  “If that’s how you insist on referring
to them, then yes.” Maybe she wasn’t so cute after all.

  “Okay. So you like bats. Why do you need to know where this is?”

  The twinge in my gut warned me to tread carefully. “Based on this photo, I suspect there may be a colony of Indiana bats living in this cave. They’re endangered and their numbers have been declining over the years. If there’s a colony around town, we’d like to make note so we can keep an eye on it.”

  “So you want to bring in a ton of people and close up one of our caves?” She crossed her arms over her chest.

  This wasn’t going well. I needed to do something to salvage the possibility of getting into that cave. “No. Actually, I was hoping I could just take a quick look. If you don’t have bats then we’re done.”

  “And if you find bats?” She shivered.

  “Then I’d like to be able to do a field study and gather a bit more information. After checking with the landowner, of course. But no one’s talking about closing up any caves.” I could tell she didn’t believe me, and she was right not to. If we did discover bats, Dad would probably insist on closing up the cave and installing a bat gate to keep people out and let the bats come and go as they pleased.

  “And if the landowner politely declines your request to investigate?”

  I shrugged. “I’d rather take a quick look myself. But if they’d rather have me go contact a local agency or take it to the federal level…”

  Her eyes narrowed. “It’s that big of a deal?”

  “Like I said, they’re an endangered species. It’s always best to have the support of local citizens, but we have to do what’s best for the bats.”

  “So what’s in it for me if I help you figure out where this is?” She drummed her fingers on the counter.

  “Um…what do you mean? We’re a non-profit, we don’t offer payouts or anything.” My gaze settled on her brown paper bag. “I’d be happy to buy you that cup of coffee or treat you to lunch.”

 

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