Cash Braddock

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Cash Braddock Page 8

by Ashley Bartlett


  “You couldn’t make that sound remotely convincing, could you?” He closed the trunk.

  “Nope. See you later.”

  Jerome saluted us with his drink and climbed into his car.

  “Let’s not sell X anymore, okay?” Nate asked.

  “I like your business sense.”

  *

  When I got home, I called Clive. He had asked to be kept in the loop and I was trying to indulge him. Most of the time, I simply told him I was keeping him in the loop. Saying it almost made it true. In reality, I wanted him to know as little as possible. It was my way of protecting him. I took a number of security measures to make sure we were insulated. I never wrote anything down that could be interpreted as drug related. I was careful when I spent cash so that it wouldn’t look suspicious. I made sure our books were impeccable. I screened my regular customers very carefully. All of it was for protection. Clive had worked too hard to make his farm a reality. I wasn’t going to let some ambitious cop take that from him. On the off chance that someone did manage to nail me, I wanted to make sure Clive was removed enough to feign ignorance.

  “Hey, kiddo.”

  “Hey.”

  “Did you meet with Jerome?”

  “Yeah, I just got home.”

  “How did it go?”

  “Well enough. We sold the lot for almost nothing. I made it clear that the price was a show of good faith that he wouldn’t come after our customers.”

  “And he agreed to that?” Clive sounded skeptical, which was probably wise.

  “He said he did.”

  “You don’t believe him?”

  “Not entirely. But it would be in his best interest to back off. He’s smart enough to see that. Right now, we aren’t competition. I’m sure he would like to move into prescriptions because his customer base would like it, but he can’t afford to have us dealing party drugs.” I was relying a lot on that logic. It was sound, but it also assumed that Jerome was logical. That was the piece I didn’t trust. It was possible, likely even, that he would judge that the risk was worth it. Hell, he was probably confident that he could push us out.

  “That’s true. I suppose we will just need to let this play out.”

  “That’s the plan.”

  “Well, thanks for calling. I miss you.” That’s what I liked about Clive. He wasn’t afraid of talking about his feelings. But he also didn’t feel the need to dig into them.

  “I miss you too.”

  “Bye, kid.”

  “Later.”

  When I hung up the phone, Nickels meowed at me. She was stretched out on the floor. Her pupils were dilated.

  “Do you want to play?” I asked. She meowed again. I sat on the floor with her and tossed one of her mouse toys in the air. She tracked its movement, but made no effort to grab it. Instead, she grabbed my hand and dug her claws in. I froze. Once she had flesh, it was best not to argue. My palm got a wet sandpaper bath. “Thank you. That’s exactly what I wanted.”

  When she was done, I tossed the mouse again. She smacked it with her paw and sent it skittering down the hallway. She ditched me to give chase. Her nails clicked and scraped across the hardwood as she disappeared from sight.

  “Okay, cool. Later, Nickels.” Abandoned by the cat. There had to be a metaphor there.

  *

  The temperature had dropped with the sun, which was rare but welcome. I took my book to the back porch. It didn’t take long for me to realize that the neighborhood sounds were too distracting so I put the book down and listened. Nondescript noise had always been soothing to me. It was the same with the haze of light that always hung over the city. I loved Clive’s farm, but nights there weren’t peaceful for me. It was unnaturally dark. The silence seemed barren. But then, I’d always been a city type.

  “You mind some company?” Robin was standing in the darkened doorway behind me.

  “Not at all. Just listening.”

  “Want a beer?”

  “Love one. You mind if I turn off the lights?”

  “Perfect.” She disappeared inside.

  I picked up my discarded book and brought it inside. Nickels sat up in her bed, blinked at me, and put her head back down. I pushed the button for the outdoor lights. That light switch was the reason I knew this duplex had been the one for me. It predated the usual flip switch. Instead, it had two round buttons. I’d never seen anything like it. Clive had loved it too. A week after I moved in, I’d banned him from touching the switch because he played with it too much.

  Robin came back out as I was sinking into my chair. She handed me a bottle and stared at the backyard. A combination of moonlight and light pollution made everything glow. When I’d moved in, the yard had a spread of patchy grass. In the summer, it was dirt. Grass was useless. Robin and Andy had moved in a few months later. Almost immediately, Robin had directed a twelve-year-old Andy to destroy the lawn. Robin and I built massive planter boxes out of scrap wood from the farm. Andy stole my tool belt and was not helpful. We spent all Robin’s days off planting seedlings and constructing barriers against the urban wildlife. Raccoons were shifty little scavengers. It had been a stupidly large undertaking that resulted in bonding the three of us. Robin and I found that we made a good team. Our communication was seamless. And Andy was adorable back then, before her snark and vocabulary kicked in.

  After the first year, we realized that edibles were pointless. Clive kept us pretty well in produce. Now, we had a spread of flowers that kept the yard in color and smelling of honeyed sweetness. One of the smaller boxes had herbs that I never used and Robin constantly berated me to remember.

  Robin leaned over and tapped the neck of her bottle against mine. We drank and watched the flowers ripple in the easy summer breeze.

  “Where’s the little tiger?” I asked.

  “Out somewhere. I’ve been assured she will be home for curfew.” Robin pulled out her phone and checked for text messages.

  “She still has an hour.”

  Robin waved her hand like it wasn’t a big deal, but I knew it was. “Big plans this week?”

  I shook my head. “Just living the dream. You?”

  “Same.” She chuckled.

  I took a sip of my beer. I was happy. I had a summer night, a cold beer, my friend. It didn’t take much. “We should barbecue one night.”

  “Yes, let’s. Tomorrow’s high is ninety.”

  “Perfect. I won’t have to barbecue in the dark.” That had been a disaster last time.

  Robin laughed. “I thought you liked the challenge.”

  “You realize your kid is going to want to take over and play with fire too?”

  “Daytime is much better for barbecuing.”

  I nodded. “I’ll hit the store after my haircut. We can start the grill around seven?”

  “Perfect.” Robin sipped her beer. “Haircut?”

  “You know me. Drives me crazy when I can feel hair on my neck.” I rubbed the back of my neck. Stubble. Gross.

  “You, uh, still going to that barbershop?”

  “Yes. Why are you interested in my haircut?”

  “Well, Andy has been bugging me,” she said. I waited for her to finish. “She wants to go way shorter, but I don’t think the salon is the right place anymore. They keep recommending ways to keep her style feminine. It’s frustrating for me and demeaning for her.”

  I smiled. “You want me to take Andy to get her hair cut off?”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “I’d love to.” This was exciting. “Wait. Don’t you want to take her?”

  “Yes. But I was there for the initial cut when we donated her ponytail. I think she needs some space for this one.”

  “You sure? You can totally tag along.”

  Robin took a deep breath. “No, it’s okay. It’s a good outing for the two of you.”

  “I’ll take a ton of photos.”

  “I’ll wait to fawn over them until Andy is out of the room.”

  “You’re the b
est mom ever.”

  “I know.”

  I pulled out my phone and went on my barbershop’s website. We were in luck. My barber had an appointment right after mine. I logged in and reserved the appointment. “Done. Scheduled with Caleb for one and one thirty.” I pulled up my email, clicked the confirmation, and forwarded it to Robin.

  “Oh, she’ll be so excited. You’re amazing, Cash.” She leaned over and squeezed my arm. “Really. I don’t know what we would do without you.”

  “Probably drink less beer.” I couldn’t handle sincerity very well.

  “And go to fewer art shows and read less. And my kid would be floundering.” She was wrong, but I didn’t know how to tell her that.

  “Hey, I know what floundering is, and I’m doing just fine, thank you,” Andy said.

  Robin and I turned and found Andy grinning at us from the darkened doorway. She pushed through the door and sat on the arm of Robin’s chair.

  “You’re back. Did you have a good time, honey?” Robin put her arm around Andy’s waist and Andy let her. Big night.

  “Yeah, it was cool.” Andy didn’t elaborate.

  “Did you thank Sophie’s mom for giving you a ride?”

  Andy sighed. “Yes, Mom.”

  “Guess what we’re doing tomorrow,” I said.

  “Ice skating?”

  “Barbecuing,” I said. Robin laughed.

  “Cool. Can I start the barbecue? Are we doing burgers? I can make them.”

  “Ask her what else you’re doing,” Robin said.

  “What else are we doing?” Andy asked.

  “Going to my barbershop.”

  Andy’s jaw dropped. “No way. Really?” Robin and I nodded. “And you’re cool, Mom?”

  “I’m the coolest.”

  “Thanks!” Andy hugged Robin. Then she leaned over and high fived me. She had told me high fives weren’t cool anymore so I knew she was indulging me. It was pretty epic.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The door to the barbershop was propped open as usual. Andy hesitated so I went ahead of her. She seemed nervous. We sat in the leather stadium seats along the wall. Another strip of stadium seats faced us, and a pair of small club chairs bookended the waiting area.

  Andy looked around, but tried to make it look like she wasn’t. She tapped her hand against her thigh to the beat of the blues playing.

  “Hey, Cash,” Caleb called. “I’ll be with you in a minute. You want a beer or something?”

  “I’m good, thanks,” I said. He nodded and went back to sweeping.

  “That’s our barber?” Andy asked.

  “Yeah.” I managed not to smile at her. Her seriousness was enviable. “You want to go first or second?”

  “I think I want to go second.”

  “Cool. You want to come up and watch?”

  She seemed surprised. “Oh, is that okay? I don’t want to get in the way.”

  “It’s fine.”

  “Then, yeah. That would be dope.”

  Caleb leaned over the opposite row of stadium seats. “Cash, you ready?”

  “Yeah.” I skirted one of the club chairs and went to Caleb’s station. Andy followed. “Caleb, this is Andy. She’s your next appointment.”

  “Hi, Andy. I’m Caleb.” He shook her hand. “First time in a barbershop?”

  “That obvious?”

  “Just judging by the haircut.” Caleb smiled in a way that made it seem like they were buddies.

  “Yeah, I guess that’s a giveaway. Cash said I could watch.”

  “Sure. Take a seat, Cash. I’ll be right back.” Caleb disappeared down the hallway to the storeroom.

  I sat down and watched Andy. She was still looking around, but she wasn’t fidgeting as much. “I like this place,” she said.

  “Yeah, it’s pretty cool.”

  “Here you go, Andy.” Caleb set a tall stool next to his station, just out of the way of foot traffic.

  “Oh, dope. Thanks.” Andy climbed on the stool and swung her feet a little.

  He draped a smock over me. He tucked a slip of cloth around my neck. I put my head down. He tugged my shirt away from my neckline and clasped the smock. “So what are we doing today? The usual?”

  “Let’s go two on the sides. It’s been hot.”

  “Sure thing.” Caleb spun me toward the mirror. “What about the top?” He ran his fingers through my hair a few times, then pushed it vertical. “Five inches? About here?” He pulled the front of my hair up and stopped an inch shy of the end.

  “Perfect.”

  Caleb spun me back around. He carefully combed the top up and out of the way. Before turning on his clippers, he turned to Andy. “Cash asked for a two, which is a quarter inch. The numbers go up in eighths until you get to an eight, which is an inch. The numbers refer to clipper guards, but most barbers use a comb and clippers.”

  Andy nodded like he was a hero.

  When he started on the sides with clippers, he angled the chair so Andy could see what he was doing. Haircuts were one of my favorite things. I loved the dull hum of the clippers and the crisp zip along the comb. Caleb worked his way around from one side to the other. My favorite part was when he cleaned up around my ears and neck. The clippers buzzed and brushed each line into order. I’d had plenty of haircuts where the stylist or barber seemed to forget that the hair they were cutting was attached to a human, but Caleb was always careful. If this was meditation, I would probably do it more often. Hell, this was my meditation.

  When the back and sides were finished, he spritzed with a water bottle and started combing. There was a quiet snick of shears as he cut. Clumps of hair brushed my neck and fell into my lap. He combed again, then blow-dried. He cut anything out of place, and dry wisps tickled my nose. He brushed my ears and forehead with a thick, soft brush to remove the little pieces of hair.

  Finally, Caleb pumped hot lather onto his fingertips and painted around my ears and neckline. The lather rapidly cooled. He used a finger to smooth the lather by my ear and efficiently swiped his straight razor down. Around my ear, he used quick, steady movements with the razor. I loved how clean I felt after each cut. The press of the razor, the rough drag, seemed to slough off something that had been weighing me down.

  Caleb wiped away the excess lather and dusted everything with talcum powder. He combed back my hair, parted it again, and smoothed it into place. There was another quick cut with the scissors before he was satisfied. He grabbed the tub of pomade at his workstation and worked it through my hair. When he was done with the pompadour, he handed me a mirror.

  “Perfect.” I grinned and felt along my neckline.

  “Cool.” Caleb pinched the bottom corners of the smock, brought them up to the top, pinched there as well, and drew it away.

  I stood and rubbed the back of my head. It felt clean.

  “My turn?” Andy asked. She seemed excited again.

  “In just a sec. Let me clean up.” Caleb flashed Andy a smile and grabbed the broom. She watched him sweep, seemingly mesmerized by everything he was doing. “All right. Have a seat.” He rapped on the chair. Andy jumped off her stool and settled into the barber’s seat. I took the stool. Caleb repeated his dance with a new smock. “So what are we doing?” He ran his fingers through her hair, pulled it out at the sides, stood it on end.

  “I was thinking like an undercut? I think that’s what it’s called. I have pictures?”

  “Great. Let’s see them.”

  Andy wrestled her phone out from under the smock and unlocked it. “Something like this, but a little longer on the sides.”

  “May I?” Caleb held out his hand. Andy gave him the phone and he swiped back and forth between the screenshots. “Very cool. So the sides here are about half an inch, a four. Do you want to start with three-quarters of an inch? We can go shorter from there if you want.” He handed the phone back.

  “Yeah, you don’t mind if I want to go shorter?” Andy tucked her phone away.

  “Not at all.” He turne
d her toward the mirror. “How long on top?” He threaded his fingers in the front and pulled up. “Six inches will lay about this far back once we’ve styled.” He brought the hair back and tapped her head.

  “That looks good.” Andy grinned.

  “Do you want a hard line between the top and sides or do you want it to fade?”

  “I don’t know. What’s the difference?”

  “The hard line means your hair will go from one inch to six inches.” Caleb combed to show her. “There will be an obvious part. With a fade, it will be more gradual. One inch to two.” He put his hand next to her head and moved it up with each count. “Cash’s is more of a fade, but she has a different cut.”

  “I’m not sure. What will look better?” she asked both of us.

  “It’s really a matter of preference. The photos you showed me were disconnected, a hard line,” Caleb said.

  “Okay, let’s do that, then.”

  “What about the sides? We can taper them.” He drew a diagonal in front of her ear with his fingertip. “Or leave them longer, or cut them blunt.” He drew a sharp, short horizontal.

  “Blunt.”

  Caleb smiled. “Well, that was easy.”

  Andy shook her head. “At my mom’s salon, they always say that longer sides will maintain my femininity.”

  “I’m thinking you’re not too worried about maintaining femininity.” Caleb swept her hair back and held it in place so it almost looked like her head was shaved. “I don’t know, Cash. If I do this, she might be competition for you.” Andy started laughing with relief. Robin had been right. The barbershop was the place for her.

  “Damn right,” Andy said.

  “Cool.” Caleb spun her back. He parted all the way around her crown and pinned up the top. He used shears to take the length down, then switched to clippers and a comb. Honey brown curls began to litter the floor. Andy held admirably still as he combed and clipped her sides and back. I took a few photos before she caught me.

  “Are you taking pictures?”

  “No,” I said.

  “Liar.”

  “It’s for your mom. This is a big deal.”

 

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