by LK Farlow
After lunch, we head down to the beach. Leaving our shoes in the truck, we walk along the shoreline, letting the waves tickle our toes.
“Gonna be beach weather soon,” Simon states, splashing water my way.
“I’m excited. I didn’t go to the beach much back home, and the g-gulf is a lot warmer.”
“Sure enough. Maybe for spring break we can book a condo?”
“That sounds a-amazing, the perfect chance to wear the sw-swimsuit I b-bought last weekend with the girls.”
Simon stops in his tracks. “You bought a swimsuit?” His words sound stiff, and I worry I’ve somehow upset him. Should I have asked him first?
Slowly, I give him an unsure nod.
“Damn, pretty girl, I can’t wait to see you wearing it.” Will this man ever stop surprising me? I sure hope not.
Blushing, I attempt to flirt back. “We…we’ll have to remedy that over your b-break then.”
Simon moves to step toward me when my phone rings. The number is local. “H-hello?”
“Hi there, Magnolia, Gladys here. Wanted to let you know the judge has issued the order.”
Hope soars through my chest. “H-he has?”
“He has.”
“I feel like there’s a b-but coming.” Hopefully, I’m wrong.
“There is. It won’t be effective until he’s been served.”
“Oh.” I deflate at her words.
“Don’t fret. It’s a small town—if he’s here, they’ll find him.”
§
True to her word, Seraphine drives out to Simon’s bright and early Tuesday morning so we can carpool to work. However, since Simon has a faculty meeting after school today, she’ll also have to take me to pick my car up from Mateo’s garage.
Not gonna lie, I’m excited to get my little Honda back, even if I won’t get to drive it as much, thanks to my asshole husband. God, I hope they find him and serve him soon.
Deep down, I know it’s just a piece of paper, but still, it gives me peace of mind. Maybe it’ll show him I’m serious and he can’t control me anymore. Maybe he’ll get the hint and move on.
Or maybe this will tip the scales and send him over the ledge, the voice inside my brain taunts—the same voice that paralyzed me with fear throughout the course of our marriage, the voice that sounds oddly like my mother.
I’m prepping for my third color of the day—a new client who was referred to me, though I’m not sure by who.
I’m toting my supplies out to my station right as Seraphine walks my client back. “Magnolia, this here’s Mary Katherine.” Her name gives me pause, because one of the many women Grant cheated with was named Mary Katherine. I accidentally saw some of their texts once, and…Stop being silly! You’re in the South—Mary Katherine is a very common name. Breathe and act like a freaking professional, Magnolia!
Extending my hand to her, I say, “H-hey there, I’m M-Magnolia. You can have a seat here.” I gesture toward my chair. “And we can chat a little bit about what you’re wanting to accomplish t-today.”
Seraphine turns and walks back to the front desk, leaving Mary Katherine and me alone—well, not totally alone as Myla Rose and Azalea are both busy at their stations with clients of their own.
Once Mary Katherine sits, I pivot the chair to face the mirror, running my hands through her long, tawny-brown hair. “So, did you b-bring any pictures or anything?”
“Actually, I did.” She fishes her phone out of her purse and toggles open her gallery. All of the pictures she shows me are fairly similar. “I really like this sombré look—or maybe it’s balayage?” Mary Katherine tilts her head to look at me, her perfectly sculpted brow raised in question.
I smile a small, private smile—I may not be comfortable in the real world, but this? Hair? It’s my domain, my safe haven.
“Sombré is a subtle color transition. I typically try to keep the base and ends within two levels of one another. So, with your base being a warm level six, I would take your ends to a really pretty caramel color. Balayage isn’t actually a look, it’s a method. It means the highlights are hand-painted to create a soft, natural look.”
Mary Katherine contemplates my words. “Okay, yeah. I like that, and I know my man will like it, too.”
“Oh, that’s g-good.”
“Yeah, Eddie will love it. He’s so sweet, paying for me to come get pampered today!” Once again, her words have rendered me immobile. Eddie…Grant’s middle name is Edward. Surely this is all coincidental, and I’m just being paranoid. Yeah, that must be it.
I make quick work of sectioning her hair into five deep V-shaped sections and begin painting the lightener onto the hair near her face first. I saturate the ends and feather the product up to create the subtle color transition she’s looking for. I lay each painted section onto a sheet of cling wrap before moving to the next, shifting around the head from left to right and front to back until I’m satisfied.
“Okay,” I say to Mary Katherine as I peel off my gloves. “I’m g-gonna let you pro-process. I’ll check on you every t-ten minutes until we reach the desired level. Would you like some w-water?”
“Water would be amazing,” Mary Katherine replies, dragging out the last word.
I quickly set my timer and grab her a bottle of water. To kill time while waiting, I situate myself at a chair in the dispensary, pull out my phone, and fire off a text to Simon, even though I doubt he’ll be able to check it.
Magnolia: Just wanted to say I love you!
Not expecting a reply, my phone slips from my grasp when it vibrates in my hands.
Simon: Love you too, pretty girl.
Magnolia: Shouldn’t you be busy shaping young minds?
Simon: I’m never too busy for you. Also, they’re taking a test.
Magnolia: On a Tuesday? You’re cruel.
Simon: Gotta keep ’em on their toes, Goldilocks.
Magnolia: You’re something else entirely. See you tonight.
Simon: Looking forward to it.
I tuck my phone back into my apron pocket right as my timer buzzes. After silencing the alarm, I check Mary Katherine’s hair. “S-so close. I think ten more minutes and we’ll be g-good.”
Mary Katherine doesn’t bother to reply, too consumed with texting someone. Without consciously meaning to, I glance down at her phone screen.
I try to pull my eyes away—truly, I do—but right there, on her screen, clear as day, is a thread with Grant’s number at the top, though the name on it is Eddie.
My heart hammers in my chest. My vision blurs. Cool sweat slips down from my hairline, skating over my temple. My hands shake and my breath whooshes out of my lungs. The room is spinning.
Stumbling, I flee back to the dispensary. I don’t know what to make of this. Why is she here? Why is she doing this? Does she know who I am? Is she going to hurt me? Questions race through my mind at warp speed. Panicked, I do the only thing I can think of and call Simon.
It rings and rings, as I knew it would. Finally, his voicemail picks up, and after the beep, I spill my guts, telling him what’s happening.
I lay my head on my arms, propping them on the table. Practicing deep breathing, I don’t hear anyone entering the room. “You okay?” my cousin asks, and I damn near jump ten feet off the seat.
“No,” I whisper.
Seraphine lays her hand on top of mine. “What’s going on, honey?”
I relay to her the same story I did to Simon’s voicemail, and she’s instantly ready to go to war. “What the fuck? Do we need to call the police?”
“I…I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “Maybe?”
“How about I’ll keep a close eye, and the second she acts weird, I’ll call?” Seraphine suggests.
“Y-yeah, I guess that’ll work.” I pull my timer from my pocket and realize I forgot to reset it. “Crap! It’s been longer than ten minutes!”
Regardless of who she is and who she’s dating, I have no desire to damage her hair, so I fly to my statio
n where she’s still seated and texting away. “Let’s h-head to the shampoo b-bowl!” I exclaim, pivoting her chair to face the washroom.
Mary Katherine beams up at me and tucks her phone into her purse before following behind me. I go through the motions of rinsing the lightener from her hair, relieved and pleased with the tone. I lather her up with some shampoo and do a deep conditioning mask, which sits for five minutes.
After rinsing her hair with cool water, I wrap her head in a towel and lead her back to my chair. “Are we c-cutting today?”
“Oh, no. No, thank you. Eddie likes my hair long.” I have to hold back my snort, because she’s right; Grant never allowed me to have my hair shorter than my waist. So, naturally, the first thing I did after I fled was cut it up to dust the top of my chest—a small rebellion in hindsight, but a start, all the same.
“Got it.” I towel-dry her hair before spritzing it with a bit of blow-dry spray. I section her hair again and blow it out, styling it into long, sleek waves. I turn her to face the mirror and she leaps from the chair, tilting her head and inspecting the results from every angle before she throws her arms around my neck.
“Oh, Magnolia! This is even better than I hoped for! Eddie brought me down here with him on a business trip and didn’t want me to be bored, so he booked me an appointment here! I just know he is gonna love this!” Mary Katherine looks down, biting her lip. “I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but he hated my hair the last time I had it done, and he didn’t speak to me until I went and had it redone. I had to save up for two months!”
I just about choke on my tongue. “O-oh, um…w-well, hopefully he’ll like this.”
“I know he will,” she assures me, hugging me again.
“Gr-great. Seraphine will check you out up front,” I say, urging her to go, because my God, I feel like I’m going insane right now.
I trail behind Mary Katherine, lingering just behind the partition that separates the reception area from the main salon. She and Seraphine exchange a few pleasantries before Mary Katherine heads out the door.
I watch on in shock as a black Audi A4 pulls to a stop out front. “Seraphine! Call the cops! That’s Grant!” The words have barely passed my lips before Seraphine has the phone in her hand.
She relays the pertinent information to the dispatcher, and now we just have to hope they’re able to catch and serve him.
Chapter Twenty-Two
MAGNOLIA
Luckily, Mary Katherine was my last appointment of the day. I’m nervous and jumpy as I clean up. The girls all keep asking me if I’m okay, but I’m in no mood to talk.
I’m far too busy dissecting Grant’s motives and plans. In my gut, I feel like Mary Katherine had no idea who I am. So, that begs the question of why? Why did he send her here? To me? Why?
“C’mon, Mags, let’s go pick up your car. Myles said I could dip out early.”
I feel guilty that everyone’s having to accommodate me, but I’m so relieved to leave that I don’t question her. I wave goodbye to Myla Rose and Azalea and follow Seraphine out to her car.
The minute I sit down, Simon’s name lights up on my phone screen.
“Hello?”
“Are you okay?” he asks. “I just got your message!”
“I-I’m fine. I have a-a lot to tell you. We’ll talk t-tonight?”
“Okay, Goldilocks. See you soon. I’ll see if I can leave the meeting early, or I can just skip it.”
“No, that’s okay, Simon.”
“Are you sure? Can Seraphine hang out at the house with you until I get there?”
“I’m sure she can. Love you.”
Seraphine waits in the car while I run into Mateo’s shop to get my keys.
“Hola, Magnolia,” Mateo’s brother, Arrón, greets me.
“Hey,” I mumble, slightly nervous, even though I know he’s a nice guy.
“Mateo’s on his way back with your ride, wanted to test-drive it before giving you the keys.”
“Oh. That’s n-nice of him.”
“And here he is now. Vamonos—let’s go.”
I follow dutifully behind him, only for us to both stop short when we see Mateo and Seraphine locked in an intense stare-down. Finally, Arrón clears his throat. “Brother, you gonna keep staring or are you gonna give Simon’s girl her keys?”
Mateo tears his eyes away from my cousin, reaches out, and hands me my keys. “Drives like a dream.”
“Thanks, Mateo.”
After resituating my seat and mirrors, I pull out of their parking lot, Seraphine following behind me.
I bring my car to a stop under the shade of the oak tree in Simon’s front yard, Seraphine pulling in right behind me. “Mind if I hang out until your man gets home?” she asks as I exit my car.
“Did Simon t-text you?” I ask, knowing he did.
Seraphine laughs. “Yup. C’mon, it’s hot—let’s go inside.”
We trot up the steps, only to come to a dead stop when we reach the front door. Resting on the porch is a rectangular box. It’s no bigger than a shoe box, and it’s beautifully wrapped in gold paper.
“What in hell?” Seraphine asks, echoing my sentiments. “You think it’s from Simon?”
I shake my head. “N-no.”
Seraphine nudges it with the toe of her wedged sandal, waiting a moment before reaching down and picking it up.
I unlock the door and hold it open for her. She heads straight to the dining room table and I’m right behind her, pausing only to lock the door behind me.
“Should we open it?” she whispers, even though it’s only the two of us.
“Maybe we should wait for Simon,” I suggest.
“Yeah,” she agrees, “let’s wait.”
We distract ourselves with Hart of Dixie reruns until Simon finally walks through the door.
“Well, that’s my cue to head out,” Seraphine says, stretching before standing. “See y’all later.” She walks to the front door, bumping Simon’s shoulder with her own as she passes him. “Oh! And be sure to tell me what’s in the box tomorrow!”
Simon locks the door after her before turning to me. “What box?” I point toward the table and his eyes follow. “The hell is that?”
“I don’t know. Figured I’d wait for you to open it.”
“Good call, pretty girl. Let’s figure it out.”
I stand back as he pulls the paper from the box, discarding it in a crumpled heap on the floor. Slowly, Simon lifts the lid, not daring to peek inside.
“Aren’t you gonna l-look?” I ask, hoping he’s brave enough to do it so I don’t have to.
“Like rippin’ off a Band-Aid,” he murmurs before dumping the contents onto the table.
I look on in horror as it all spills out. Surely, he didn’t…
With unsteady hands, I sift through the items, each one making it harder and harder for me to breathe.
A pregnancy test.
The sonogram from when we found out we were having a son with a big X slashed through it, leaving only my name and the date recognizable.
A busted baby rattle.
The teddy bear I bought for my son, minus the head.
I stumble back, sobbing. With a loud roar, Simon shoves the items back into the box and slams the lid down on it.
He scoops me up and into his arms, carrying me straight to his bed. He lays me down with such softness and pulls the covers up around me, tucking me in. “Just rest, pretty girl. I’m gonna step out into the hall and make a phone call or two.” He brushes my hair away from my face. “I love you. Holler if you need me.”
My eyelids feel weighted as I watch his retreating form. As I drift off to sleep, the sound of Simon’s voice filters in through the crack in the door. I listen as my knight goes to bat for me, reporting Grant’s actions to the police, and probably to Cash and Drake as well.
Chapter Twenty-Three
SIMON
Something tells me that asshole is far from finished. It guts me that my girl had to see
the contents of that box, makes me feel murderous to know that someone wants to hurt her like that.
I pace up and down my hallway, trying to calm the anger raging through my veins. I don’t want Magnolia to see me this mad. After about thirty minutes, I’m about as calm as I’m gonna get.
Just as I’m about to head to bed, my phone rings. “Hello?”
A masculine voice sounds over the line. “Simon McAllister?”
“Yes, sir. May I ask who’s calling?”
“Officer Byrnes. Wanted to give you the good news personally.”
“Good news?” I ask. “What good news?”
“We got him. Another unit saw him fly through a stop sign and pulled him over. When they ran his license, the dispatch saw the order of protection, service pending, and alerted the officers. They called a deputy to the scene to serve him.”
“Holy shit.” I audibly exhale. “For real?”
“For real. Y’all have a nice night now.”
Too excited to wait for morning, I barge into the bedroom and wake Magnolia up. I feel slightly guilty doing so, but I know she’ll sleep easier knowing it’s done.
“Goldilocks, wake up.” I shake her gently, and she blinks herself awake.
“What?” she mumbles, sounding cute as hell.
“Officer Byrnes just called and let me know they served Grant the protection order.”
She bolts upright. “They did?”
“They did, baby. Now, if that asshole comes near you again, his ass is going to jail.”
“Wh-what if he requests a hearing?” Magnolia grips the covers and pulls them up to her chin.
“One day at a time, pretty girl. One day at a time. If that waste of space requests a hearing, I’ll be right by your side, holding your hand the entire time.”
“You p-promise?”
I hold up my index, middle, and ring fingers. “Scout’s honor.”