by Naomi Niles
“Madison!” Whitney cried, coming forward and wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “You ready to get to work today?”
“Definitely!” I said, with enthusiasm. “I’m really excited!”
“Good,” Whitney nodded. “‘Cause I am, too, and I’ve realized that getting excited is against Lola’s moral principles.”
I laughed. “Is that so?” I asked, turning to Lola.
She rolled her eyes and flipped through the magazine in her hand. “I’m the Yin to Whitney’s Yang,” she retorted. “She’ll come to appreciate my calm and unhurried manner.”
Whitney rolled her eyes and sank into one of her chairs. “Since we don’t have any appointments yet, why don’t you take a seat and we can get better acquainted?”
“Sure,” I nodded, with a small pang of unease. I liked Whitney, but I had a few skeletons in my closet and I wasn’t willing to share them with anyone yet. So instead of waiting for her to start the conversation, I jumped in first. “How long have you lived in Fort Collins?”
“My whole life,” she replied. “I was born here, went to high school and college in the state. I’ve never really been far from home.”
“I assume your family lives here?”
“My parents do,” Whitney nodded. “I have an older sister, but she relocated to Texas after she got married, so we visit her every so often. Frankly, I can’t stand Texas, but it’s important to my parents that we meet for important occasions.”
“Christmas and Thanksgiving?” I asked. “That sort of thing?”
“I wish that was it,” Whitney sighed, as though she had a burden on her shoulders. “There are also birthdays, anniversaries, and the occasional Fourth of July. My family likes to celebrate shit.’
I laughed. “They sound like a fun bunch.”
“They grow on you,” she said fondly. “But it takes about eighteen years. My parents were pedantic about family meals and such. We could never miss them and Lucy and I had to be at the table at meal times or there would be hell to pay. Mom thought eating together as a family was really important.”
“Wow,” I said, feeling a small pang of jealousy. “Is it still like that?”
“Well, I don’t live with Mom and Dad anymore,” Whitney replied. “But Friday dinner and Sunday lunch is always at their house and I have to be on time or I get a hundred calls from Mom. It’s gotten a little better now that the salon is open, though; they’re a little more understanding when I’m late.”
“They must be proud of you.”
“Like you wouldn’t believe,” she laughed. “I’ve been talking about opening up a beauty parlor since I was thirteen years old. I don’t think even they believed I was serious. So when I finally did it, they were thrilled to get on board.”
“They sound like amazing parents,” I sighed. “You’re really lucky.”
Whitney’s smile grew thoughtful. “Tell me about your family,” she said.
I tensed immediately, but I decided that evading the question would only fuel her curiosity. “To be honest, I didn’t really have parents, at least not good ones. My father was a drifter who left when I was a baby, and my mother was an alcoholic who made some bad choices. I don’t really have contact with either one of them.”
“Oh,” Whitney said, with wide eyes. “I’m sorry to hear that. What about your brother? You mentioned you had one yesterday.”
“I do,” I nodded. “His name is Victor. He’s a couple of years older than I am, but I’ve always felt like the older one.”
“How so?”
I hesitated for a moment. “He…takes after my mother,” I said slowly. “He has a habit of making bad decisions.”
“Is that why you moved closer to him?” Whitney asked, and I realized that she had absorbed every bit of the conversation we’d had the day before. I had forgotten that I’d even mentioned Victor.
“It was,” I nodded. “Not that it did much help – for either of us.”
Whitney was looking at me questioningly, but that was not a conversation I wanted to have on my first day of work. Thankfully, I was spared from having to explain further when the bell above the entrance chimed as a client walked in.
“Hello.”
“Welcome,” Whitney greeted, as she jumped from her chair and walked over to the silver-haired woman. “My name is Whitney. How can I help you today?”
“Well, I was just passing by and saw the new salon. I thought I might take a look and see what you have to offer.”
“Well, you’re in luck,” Whitney said. “Given that we just opened, I’m offering all walk-ins a ten percent discount.”
“Really?”
“Really,” she smiled.
“Well in that case, I could do with a haircut. My grandkids are coming into town tomorrow, you see.”
“Fantastic,” Whitney nodded. “Madison, would you like to take this client?”
“Oh, sure,” I replied in delight, walking up to the new client and shaking her hand. “I’m Madison. Please, take a seat, ma’am.”
“Oh, I hate that ma’am nonsense,” she said. “It makes me feel old. Call me Berta.”
“Berta it is then,” I nodded, as I secured her shoulders with a cover up. “Now, what kind of cut would you like?”
“Short,” Berta replied readily. “And make it…fashionable and high flying.”
Whitney and I exchanged a smile. “You got it,” I said.
“Are you the owner?” Berta asked Whitney inquisitively.
Whitney nodded proudly. “I am. And, Madison’s here my new employee. This is her first day.”
“Not cutting hair I hope?”
I laughed. “Don’t you worry, I have plenty of experience cutting hair. This is just my first day working for Whitney.”
“That’s a relief,” Berta joked. “Are you new in town?”
“I am,” I nodded. “Brand new actually.”
“Madison just moved into the house in Forest Hills,” Whitney offered up conversationally.
“Next to the Burbank boys?” Berta asked immediately.
I raised my eyebrows. “Man, those boys seem to be famous in this town.”
“Such wonderful boys with such a tragic story,” Berta said, obviously keen on narrating the tale.
I had to admit I was curious about them, especially after my meeting with Peter and John the day before. John had done most of the talking. He had been polite and friendly, but it was Peter who had left a lasting impression on me. Both brothers were handsome, but it was Peter that I found myself drawn to. There was just something about him.
“I met them yesterday actually,” I offered. “Well, two of them, at least.”
“Oh?” Whitney said with interest, and Berta’s eyes perked up, as well.
“Which ones?” Berta asked.
“Peter and John,” I replied.
“Peter!” she said fondly. “He’s a wonderful man. You know he’s helped me out quite a few times over the years.”
“How so?” I asked with interest.
“I had some problematic neighbors one time,” she explained. “Lots of noise, loud parties, it was chaotic. I lodged a noise complaint with the police, and Peter came over to see to it. He walked over and had a talk with the boys there and sorted it out for me. He used to patrol the neighborhood when he was a rookie cop and brought Raoul back on three different occasions.”
“Raoul?” Whitney asked.
“My cat,” Berta replied. “He’s always had a terrible sense of direction.” Whitney and I had to work hard not to laugh at that. “Anyway, Peter knew how much I loved him, so he always brought him back whenever he saw Raoul prowling around outside my neighborhood.”
“He sounds like a great guy,” I said.
“Oh, he’s wonderful,” Berta nodded. “He’s not even the eldest boy in the family, and yet he takes care of them like he is. After his father died, Peter became the man of the house. He even got his younger brother out of trouble.”
“Hmm… I
heard that he arrested his younger brother,” Whitney recalled.
“What?” I asked in shock. “He arrested his own brother?”
“The youngest Burbank boy has issues,” Berta said with raised eyebrows. “He got in with a bad crowd, and I think Peter thought arresting him was the only way to stop him going down a dangerous path.”
“Did it work?” I asked.
“Who can tell?” Berta shrugged. “He’s not seen around town much. Just as well. He’s a scary-looking boy – tattoos all over his body. He’s nothing like his older brothers.”
Whitney glanced at me and winked. “Seems like my type,” she whispered in my ear so that Berta wouldn’t hear, and I was forced to suppress my laughter.
“He was the one responsible for getting Peter shot a few months ago,” Berta said.
“Peter got shot?” I repeated in shock.
“At the carnival,” Berta told me, obviously enjoying my reactions.
“I heard about the shooting,” Whitney nodded. “But I didn’t know it had anything to do with the youngest brother.”
“Oh, I have no doubt that it was,” Berta said confidently. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he was the one that shot Peter.”
Whitney and I exchanged a glance before I quickly changed the subject. “So,” I said. “Your grandchildren are coming into town tomorrow?”
When I drove back home that evening, Peter was outside his house working on the addition John had told me about yesterday. He was dressed similarly to the day before in dark work pants and a white t-shirt that clung to his toned body. I felt my heartbeat accelerate just looking at him.
I got out of my SUV, wondering if I should say hello or just walk into the house without initiating conversation. I decided to glance in his direction to see if he was even looking at me. As I looked at him, he gave me a wave. I felt the nerves bubble excitedly in the pit of my stomach. I waved back and walked into the house because Polo was barking like crazy.
“Hey, buddy,” I greeted as Polo tried to scale me like a wall. “How about a little walk?”
My eagerness to walk Polo early to do had less to do with giving him some exercise and more to do with seeing my neighbor again. I was aware that I was being unnecessarily juvenile, but it also made me feel young and carefree. It gave me something to be excited about, even if nothing came out of it.
I never used a leash on Polo. I just opened the door, knowing he would follow me anywhere without complaint. I walked around my house first, before slowly circling around to the path that passed right in front of Peter’s house. The moment he saw me approaching, he came forward.
“Hi, neighbor,” he greeted.
“Hi,” I replied. “How’s the work going on the house?”
“It’s going slowly,” he replied. “But I’m making progress.”
His eyes were a beautiful, tranquil hazel. “That’s good.”
“Are you working in town?” he asked.
“I got a job yesterday,” I replied. “Whitney’s Beauty Salon.”
“Congratulations.”
“Thanks,” I smiled.
Peter held my gaze for a moment and then he looked down at Polo, who was skulking around behind my legs. “Still a little skittish, huh?” he asked.
“Don’t take it personally,” I replied. “He’s just that way.”
Peter sunk down onto his knees, but he made no attempt to pet Polo. Instead, he made eye contact and waited patiently. “It looks like someone’s kicked some fear into him,” he observed. “Did you get him from a shelter?”
“I did,” I replied, without divulging the reason for Polo’s weariness around other people, especially men.
“He must have had a rough owner.”
Slowly, Peter stretched out his hand a little, with his palm facing upwards. “Hey, boy,” he said in a low, soothing voice. “You don’t need to be scared of me.”
To my amazement, Polo took a tentative step forward, and after a moment, he nudged the tip of his nose against the tip of Peter’s fingers, almost as though he were testing the waters. Peter smiled, and then he slowly straightened out into a standing position.
“Wow,” I said. “That was amazing. I can’t believe he approached you like that at all”
“I always wanted a dog.” I found my heart doing a little flip as he smiled at me.
“Would you like to come over for dinner tonight?” Peter asked, taking me by surprise.
“Tonight?”
“It’ll be just John and I. We can be poor company sometimes, but it beats eating alone,” he continued. “Polo’s invited, too.”
I smiled. “I’d love to join you guys for dinner,” I nodded. “Thank you.”
Chapter Nine
Peter
“Hey bro,” John said, as he walked into the kitchen. “Something smells good.”
“I’m making pasta for dinner.”
“Linguine?”
“Spinach fettuccine,” I replied distractedly. “With shrimp.”
“Are we celebrating something?” John asked in confusion.
I kept my face straight as I replied. “We’re having company over for dinner.”
“Sam’s coming over?”
“Madison.”
“Wait, hold up. Madison?”
“Yes.”
“As in Madison, our new neighbor?” John asked in surprise.
“Do you know another Madison?”
John stared at me for a moment before his face broke out into a proud smile. “Well, who would’ve thought?”
“It’s just dinner, John,” I reminded him, tossing the potatoes in a bowl.
“That sure was fast,” he said, ignoring me. “I’m impressed.”
“Like I said, just an innocent dinner,” I reiterated.
“If you felt the need to preface a dinner with the word ‘innocent,’ then it certainly isn’t innocent,” John said, giving me a wink.
“You’ve been really annoying lately, you know,” I said, and John burst into laughter.
“Hey, I don’t blame you,” he went on. “She’s pretty.”
“She’s beautiful,” I corrected instinctively.
He raised his eyebrows. “Well, I’m not going to stand in your way.”
“I didn’t-”
“I mean, if I were to throw my hat into the ring, you clearly wouldn’t have a shot,” John said, with a teasing smile. “So, I’m going to be the bigger man here and just step aside.”
I sighed. “This is not a big deal.”
John shook his head at me. “I don’t know why you feel the need to deny your attraction to Madison,” he said. “I mean, it doesn’t make you any less of an individual.”
I was about to say something in reply when the bell rang and I froze in place. “Fuck,” I breathed. “She’s here already.”
John smiled. “Take a deep breath. I’ll go get the door.”
He disappeared from the kitchen and I told myself to be calm. A few moments later, John walked back into the kitchen with Madison in tow. She looked positively radiant. She had her hair in a braid again, but it was a completely different style. She wore a white, sleeveless dress that ended just above the knee.
“Hi,” I said, giving her my most winning smile. “You look lovely.”
“Thank you,” Madison smiled, and I thought I detected a faint blush on her cheeks.
“Where’s Polo?”
“Come on, Polo,” she called and the dog slinked into the kitchen, looking around wearily. “He’s just a little nervous of new places.”
“You’ve got yourself one eccentric dog there,” John said.
“That’s the way I like ‘em,” she smiled.
“Take a seat, Madison,” John said, pulling out a chair at the table for her. “Make yourself at home. I wish Pete had given me more notice, but I have an appointment in a half hour, and I just can’t miss it. I would have rescheduled if I’d known you were joining us for dinner.”
“Oh,” Madison said, as I
shot John a look behind her back. “That’s a shame.”
“It is,” John nodded apologetically. “But enjoy your dinner. Pete’s a great cook.”
“Certainly smells like it,” Madison nodded, giving me a passing smile.
“Anyway, I’ve got to go,” John said, giving us both a little wave. “You two enjoy yourselves.”
Just before he left the kitchen, he gave me a sly wink and disappeared from sight. I knew he was just trying to give us some alone time; I was grateful, albeit a little nervous.
“I hope you like pasta,” I said.
“I love pasta,” Madison replied, as she stooped down a little to pet Polo. “Did you make it from scratch?”
“I did, actually,” I nodded. “In hindsight, it was probably the wrong choice tonight…dinner might not be ready for a while.”
Madison laughed and rose from her seat. “Well then, I better help you.”
“You sure?”
“Of course,” she nodded. “I’ve always loved the idea of cooking, but I was never very good at it. And between working and studying, I didn’t really have the time to devote to improving either.”
“Are you still studying?” I asked with interest.
“In a manner of speaking,” Madison nodded. “I’m…taking a little break at the moment. But I’m very close to graduating.”
“Excited?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe,” she nodded. “I’m going to be the first one in the family to get an undergraduate degree.”
“Wow, that is quite the accomplishment,” I nodded. “Congratulations.”
She laughed. “I haven’t graduated yet.”
“But I have no doubt you will,” I said. “You have that determined look about you.”
“You think so?” Madison asked thoughtfully.
“You’d have to be determined to work and put yourself through school at the same time,” I reasoned.
“What about you?” she asked. “I heard through the grapevine that you’re a police officer.”
“Ah…people have been talking, huh?”
Madison colored slightly, but she didn’t bother lying. “People in town like you,” she replied. “You have quite the reputation.”
“Do I?” I asked. “Well that’s good to know.”
