“I’m fine, really.” Trav wished he hadn’t taken the seat Mama G had offered, as he was now too far from the door to make a quick getaway. “It’s nice of you all to offer tea, but I really should go. I’ll come back later when—”
“Ha!” Aunt Jo limped to the cupboard, where she pulled out a cup and poured hot water from the pot that sat on the stove. “You’ll stay where you are and tell us why you came.”
Feeling a little helpless, he looked at Linda, who shrugged as if to say he’d be a fool to fight.
He supposed she was right. He was no match for three bossy women. One, maybe. Two, probably. But never three. A man had to know his limits and that was his.
Mama G watched him over the rim of her teacup. “You might as well tell us what you want. We’re going to find out one way or another.”
They would, too. “It’s no big deal, really. I just . . .” He rubbed his neck, wondering if he should even ask. I suppose it won’t hurt. All she can do is say no. His face hot, he took a deep breath. “Mama G, Grace once mentioned that you used to cut the hair of your foster kids.”
Linda, who’d been leaning against the counter, straightened.
Aunt Jo, who’d just dropped a tea bag into the cup of hot water, turned to look at him.
Even Moon Pie, who was still asleep under the table, snorted as if he could feel the sudden tension in the room.
“So I did,” Mama G said thoughtfully. “I was pretty good at it, too. Saved all sorts of money.”
“I imagine you did. And that’s why I came today. Mama G, would you cut my hair?”
Her eyes widened. Her gaze moved up to his hair, following it across his brow and down past his ears, and to his shoulders. “Son, nothing would make me happier.”
Five minutes later, all three women had donned their sweaters and placed him in a chair out in the middle of the backyard. Aunt Jo used a chip clip to fasten a tablecloth around his neck while Linda brought out Mama G’s knitting basket.
Mama G fished in the basket for her shears. They were buried under knotted bundles of yarn, but she untangled them and then waved them in the air over her head like a sword. “Behold the shears!”
“I swear, but I feel like I’m seeing the Samson and Delilah story right in front of my eyes.” Aunt Jo beamed.
“There’s no Delilah,” Linda said with regret.
“I’ll be Delilah,” Aunt Jo said, dancing her way to the chair Linda had put out for her.
Linda laughed. “Oh! Wait here a moment. We need one more thing.” She went back inside, the screen door banging closed.
Trav eyed the shears with trepidation. In Mama G’s small hands, the shears looked like they belonged to a giant. “You’re not going to use those, are you? They seem sort of big.”
“I don’t like the tiny little scissors some people use when they knit.” She snapped the shears open and closed rapidly. “I like shears with a little gumption to them.”
Oh God.
Aunt Jo rested her cane against her chair. “Those seem sharp enough to me.”
“Oh, they’ll cut through wood if you needed them to.” Mama G snapped them in the air for emphasis.
Trav silently told his ears goodbye. I’m dead. I wonder if anyone here besides me knows how to apply a tourniquet? He tugged on the tablecloth, which suddenly seemed too tight around his neck, but the clip held it stubbornly in place. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea. I can come back another time—”
“Nonsense.” Mama G moved behind him and, before he could say another word, she began to cut his hair.
Now he couldn’t move. Not even a little. His heart racing, he remained stone-still, the snip-snip of the shears abnormally loud in the quiet.
After a few moments, Linda came back outside, this time carrying a bowl. She settled in the chair beside Aunt Jo. “Want some popcorn?”
“Why, thank you. I do love a snack while I’m taking in a show.” Aunt Jo munched on the popcorn and then stretched her plump legs out in front of her. Moon Pie, who’d settled under her chair when they’d first come out, snored gently.
Mama G snipped a bit of hair near Trav’s ear and then stopped. “Robert, child, you’re grinding your teeth.”
“Sorry,” Trav mumbled.
She chuckled and set back to work. “Lord, the fun we had when you were a child. Jo, do you remember what shenanigans Robert and his brother used to get into?”
“I do,” Aunt Jo said. “Like the time they snuck into the drive-in in the trunk of Lenny York’s car and got stuck? Lenny thought they were demons and refused to let them out.”
Mama G laughed and then began to recall various other pranks Trav’s father had embarked upon. Oddly enough, the stories were soothing and Trav found himself grinning as Mama G and Aunt Jo recalled Dad’s various pranks.
Trav had been close to his father, but he was beginning to realize that he had only known him in one way—as a father. There were other parts to his dad’s life when he’d just been Robert Parker, prankster and who knew what else. It’s funny, but we only know the people in our lives in relation to who they are to us—a father or a mother or a brother. We never see them the way others do.
The next fifteen minutes went by in a blur. Trav held as still as he could and although the big shears seemed awfully close at times, they never once touched his skin. Tufts of dark hair fell to the grass, the soft breeze teasing them away. He watched as they tumbled across the grass and came to rest along a small garden near an old oak.
Finally, Mama G lowered her shears. “I think that’ll do it.” She slowly walked around him. “Yes. That’ll do just fine.”
He glanced at Aunt Jo and Linda and found them frozen in their seats, their gazes locked on him, the popcorn forgotten in the bowl.
“Huh,” Aunt Jo said. “I forgot how handsome the Parker boys were.”
“He looks a lot like his dad, doesn’t he?” Linda said.
Mama G undid the clip that held the tablecloth around Trav’s neck and released him.
He stood and ran a hand through his hair, relieved to find it short, but not too much so. His head felt lighter, and the fall air seemed chillier. He rubbed his neck and winced as he realized how the haircut had exposed his scars. He’d known that would happen, but still, he felt oddly vulnerable.
Mama G patted his arm. “Don’t hide, child. People who really live have a little wear and tear. But that’s good. It’s what makes us interesting.”
“Lord, yes.” Aunt Jo grabbed her cane and hauled herself to her feet. “You look good, with the scars or without. In fact, if I were about fifty years younger, I’d let you date me. Moon Pie would be jealous, but I’d do it anyway.”
“To heck with being age appropriate,” Linda scoffed. “If Mark wasn’t such a good cook, I’d chase you down right now.”
Trav’d thought his face couldn’t get hotter, but he’d been wrong. To save the conversation from getting worse, he turned to Mama G. “How much do I owe you for the haircut?”
“Psssht. Consider it a return for some of the work you’ve done on this house.” She looked at Aunt Jo. “If you need anything fixed, he’s good, but good lord, he’s slow.”
“Hmm. Maybe there’s a reason he’s slow.”
“That’s what I think,” Linda agreed.
Oh God, please don’t let them start talking about that.
Mama G beamed. “He likes our Grace.”
This is a nightmare. “I haven’t really thought about—”
“He more than likes her, if you ask me,” Aunt Jo said. “Look at how red he turned when you mentioned her name.”
Linda nodded. “We should help him. Give him some advice.”
“It’s the least we could do,” Aunt Jo agreed. “Between the three of us, we have a good hundred and fifty years of experience. Meanwhile, he’s got less than thirty.”
They all looked at him with something akin to pity.
Half laughing, and half dying of embarrassment, he threw up his hands. �
��You are being way too kind, but I think I know what I need to do.”
“You’d better do it quickly,” Linda said. “She says she’s not staying, so you’re going to have to change her mind.”
“That could take some time,” Aunt Jo said. “And some wooing.”
“She likes flowers,” Mama G said thoughtfully. “And movies, too. We watch movies every night. She and Daisy both like the old ones best. I think she might like dinner out, too, someplace not too fancy, though. She— Ah! Speak of the devil.” Mama G nodded toward the street. “There’s Grace now.”
Trav turned to see the Honda pull into the drive, the tires crackling over the scattering of gravel on the asphalt.
“They’re home early.” Linda got out of her chair and looked over the fence at the new arrivals. “That’s unusual. Poor Grace has had to work late a lot because of the festival. I’ll be glad when it’s over.”
The car stopped beside the front porch. Daisy threw open the door, hopped out, and soon disappeared around the front of the house, leaving the door open in her wake. Moving at a more decorous pace, Grace got out of the car and followed her niece, pausing only to shut Daisy’s car door before slipping out of view.
A moment later, Trav heard the front screen door slam and he was suddenly hit with an irresistible urge to leave. And not slowly, either, saying goodbyes and calmly walking home, but quickly, over the fence even, and back to the safety of his own house.
But before he could do more than think about it, the back door swung open and Daisy bounded out.
She stopped in her tracks on seeing everyone in the backyard. Her blue gaze went from Aunt Jo to Linda and then to the shears still in Mama G’s hand, and finally to Trav. “Whoaaa! You look different.” She came closer, walking around him.
He fought the urge to cover his scars. “Well?”
“You look younger. A lot younger.”
That was good. Wasn’t it? “Thanks. I think.”
Daisy shrugged, her attention already drifting. “I’m going to— Moon Pie!”
Aunt Jo watched with a smile as Daisy dropped to her knees and hugged the dog. “Don’t I get a hello?”
Daisy, still grinning, climbed back to her feet. “Sorry, Aunt Jo.” She gave the older woman a hug.
Aunt Jo patted Daisy’s shoulder. “That’s okay. I’m used to it. That dog upstages me at least once a day, and usually more. He’s—” She frowned, her gaze locked on Mama G. “Inna, dear, are you okay?”
Mama G was frowning at the shears in her hand as if she’d just seen them. “I was . . .” Her gaze drifted to her knitting basket. “Was I knitting?”
Trav’s heart sank at the quaver in her voice.
Linda handed the nearly empty popcorn bowl to Aunt Jo and went to Mama G’s side. “Yes, you were. I’ll take those shears for you. Your knitting basket is right over here. See?”
Mama G’s brow cleared. “Yes. Of course.” She gave an awkward laugh. “I don’t know why I couldn’t remember that.”
Linda slid the shears into the basket and then put it into Mama G’s arms. “Why don’t we go inside. It’s getting cold out here. Daisy, want to help your grandmother up the porch stairs?”
“Sure.” Daisy slipped her arm around Mama G and together they walked toward the porch. “Have you been working in your garden?”
“I was waiting for you to come home, but I’m a little too tired now.”
“Maybe a snack would help,” Linda offered. “I could make some peanut butter and apple slices.”
“I like apples,” Mama G agreed, although she suddenly seemed exhausted, hugging her basket while Daisy led her to the porch.
Linda walked behind them with Aunt Jo, Moon Pie panting as he followed. “Aunt Jo, it was nice having you for a visit. We’ll leave once I fix Daisy’s snack. I’ll drop you off on my way home.”
“Thank you. I have a lot of work to do this evening. The First Baptist Church is sponsoring a booth at the Apple Festival, so I’m printing Bible verses on tiny slips of paper. We’re putting them inside the wrappers of lollipops. It’ll be sorta like a fortune cookie, only better ’cause it’s Jesus.”
Daisy looked over her shoulder. “Can I help?”
“Of course you can. Ask your aunt if you can spend some time at my house tomorrow. Moon Pie likes visitors and— Oh. There’s your aunt now.”
Grace had just stepped out of the house. She stood on the porch, and her gaze—which had widened at seeing so many people in her backyard—locked on Trav.
He fought the urge to touch his hair. He wasn’t quite sure what to do with his hands, so he crossed his arms over his chest.
Daisy and Mama G went up the steps. Mama G, still holding her basket, went inside while Daisy stayed to speak to Grace. Trav thought she looked a little tired this evening. Her hair, which was always in a proper bun, had loosened somehow, a long strand looped against her neck.
Trav wished more than ever that he’d left. Why had she come home early today of all days? He wasn’t yet ready to speak to her. He needed some time to think things through. To figure out what to say.
He’d just head home. All he had to do was walk past Grace on the porch, and then he could make his escape through the kitchen.
Daisy gave Grace a big hug and then followed Linda and Aunt Jo inside, where Mama G waited.
The screen door closed and Trav was alone with Grace.
What do I say now? He couldn’t think of a single thing. He rubbed his chin, wishing he had Blake’s gift of gab.
She stepped off the back porch, her dark gaze as inscrutable as ever as she crossed the lawn to where he stood. She stopped in front of him, and the cool evening breeze ruffled her loose strand of dark hair and tugged at her blue sweater. She crossed her arms, as if to ward off some of the chill.
And so they stood, face-to-face, arms crossed, neither one seeming sure of what to say.
He cleared his throat. “Daisy seems happy today.”
Grace’s expression softened. “She is, thanks to the committee. She loved working in town this summer. It kept her busy and she made so many friends. When she started school, she already knew most of the kids in her class.”
“Sarah said a good number of them came to her Children’s Hour.”
“Almost all of them. And Daisy got to help with it, which made her seem pretty cool to the kids in her class, too. She’s never had so many friends.”
“That’s good.”
“It’s very good. She’s changed so much over the past few months. She still has her days, but not many.”
“She’s a good kid and you’re a good mom.”
She opened her mouth as if to argue, but then closed it and shrugged, looking adorably embarrassed. “Thank you. She’s everything to me.”
“As she should be.”
Grace smiled. “She likes you.”
“She’d like anyone who let her wash their motorcycle.”
“And paid her. She says she’s going to spend all ten dollars at the book fair.”
“That’s a good place to spend them.”
Grace’s gaze flickered from his eyes to his hair. “You . . . you look really good.”
“Mama G cut it.”
Grace’s eyebrows rose. “She did?”
“You said she used to cut your hair, so I figured why not mine.” Why not. Such little words, but in the right circumstances, they could mean so much.
“She cut my hair until I got to high school, and then I decided I needed a professional.” Grace tucked the loose strand of her hair behind her ear and said in a mischievous tone, “I wouldn’t admit it back then, but she was way better than the girl I found.”
“I used to go to the barber in town, but he retired years ago and closed up shop.”
“Is that why you let your hair grow?”
“No. It just seemed a waste of time. Besides, I wasn’t exactly socializing at the time, so . . .” He shrugged.
“What changed your mind?”
Y
ou did. The thought rang loud and clear in his mind, and he moved closer. Not a lot, but enough to let her know it was deliberate. “I’ve decided it is time to start socializing.”
“Oh.”
It wasn’t exactly encouraging, but he’d come this far and he wasn’t about to stop. “I’d like to socialize with you, once the festival is over and you have the time.”
She put a hand to her cheek. “Socialize. You mean . . .”
“On a date.” Oh God, he’d said it. There was no going back now.
He waited, his chest so tight it felt as if it might explode.
Her gaze moved over him, resting on his hair, his eyes. Finally, she said, “I don’t plan on staying in Dove Pond forever.”
“I know. Although I think that might be a mistake.”
Her gaze darkened. “It might be. It’s been nice here. Daisy’s doing well and Mama G is more comfortable being around people she knows, but I just—” Grace looked toward the house, where they could hear the distant laughter of the women inside, and her face softened. “I don’t know. Maybe.” She turned back to him. “But no matter what, whether I stay here or leave, I’ll always be responsible for Daisy.”
“Of course.”
“And Mama G, too, so long as I can.” Grace’s voice quavered a bit.
He fought the urge to pull her closer for a hug. “I know,” he repeated firmly and without hesitation.
“I’m not always easy to get along with, either. I get irked. A lot.”
He nodded. “I’ve noticed.”
She burst out laughing. “I don’t think you should agree with me about that.”
“Sorry. It’s true, though. I’m the same way, and to be honest, I don’t mind it. In fact, I have just one question.”
“Yes?”
“Should we have both dinner and go to a movie for our first date? Or just dinner? We might want to talk. Get to know each other a little more. And God, I love talking to you.” He loved other things about this woman, but if all he ever got from her was a string of words, he’d never regret anything he’d ever done in his life.
She bit her lip, and he could feel her struggle. She wanted to say yes, he could see it in her eyes. But she was proud, and cautious, and determined to keep her independence. She could keep all of those things if she said one short word—no.
The Book Charmer Page 33