by Karin Beery
Brooke laughed. “And she did a great job. Here comes Stacey. I’ve got to finish Mrs. Wessell’s blowout, but don’t leave without making an appointment. I want to catch up, and there’s a highlighting technique I’ve been using that will work great with your hair.”
As Brooke walked away, Stacey stepped up to the front desk. Like everyone else in the salon, she wore all black. Unlike her previous outfits, however, Stacey wore a figure-flattering blouse, a skinny metal belt that showcased her trim waist, and a pair of canary yellow pumps that nearly made Callie drool. Wave after wave of long blonde hair rolled over her shoulders and back.
Stacey smiled. “Shocking, isn’t it?”
“Isn’t what?”
“You’re nice, but I know how ugly my other uniforms are. I don’t always look like a teenage bag girl. Come on. We’re this way.” Stacey led Callie into the manicure room. Not only did she look different, she walked differently too. Taller. Confident. Comfortable in the salon.
“So, you’re a nail tech too?”
“Yep. This is my favorite job, though.” Stacey motioned to a chair. “I’d love to do this full-time someday.”
“Why not now?”
“I can’t, not until I finish my apprenticeship, anyway. I have two more months before I’ll be fully licensed.” Stacey reached for Callie’s hand. Callie hesitated. Stacey laughed. “I’ve been doing this for almost a year. You’re safe, I promise.”
Callie narrowed her eyes but couldn’t completely hide her grin. “If I lose a fingernail, I want free polish.”
“I’ll give you three.”
“Deal.” Callie shoved both hands at Stacey.
“You won’t be sorry.” Stacey dabbed some oil on her palms, then massaged it into Callie’s skin.
Callie closed her eyes and slouched down in the chair. “That feels great.”
“Thanks. You’ll be just as happy with the rest.”
“You were really working here last year?”
“Yep. I started in August and will finish in July.”
“And then you’ll be a cosmetologist?”
“No, I’ll be a nail tech.”
Callie opened her eyes. “You don’t want to be a cosmetologist?”
“I’d love to, but I really can’t afford the full two-year internship. I love doing nails the most, so they created a one-year program for me.” Stacey pressed and pulled the tension out of Callie’s fingers while skillfully avoiding the scattered scrapes and bruises. Stacey hadn’t lied. She was good. Too bad she couldn’t do it for a living.
“Is this an unpaid internship?” Callie asked.
Stacey rubbed and nodded.
“That’s why you work at the grocery store.”
Stacey nodded again and set Callie’s hand in a dish of warm water. “And it’s why I work at the art studio. Occasionally at the deli. And for any friend who will give me a few hours here or there. I work twenty hours a week here, so I fill in my days wherever I can.”
“Well, I promise to stop in and use your services again before I go back to school. I forgot how great this feels.”
“You don’t pamper yourself often?”
Callie chuckled. “All of the time, but I can’t always afford to pay someone else to do it for me. I usually save my money for the things I can’t do for myself.”
“I’m glad you decided to treat yourself today.” Stacey began massaging the other hand. “Is there any special reason why you decided to come in?”
Callie’s heart fluttered. “I have a date later.”
“That’s wonderful! With Ryan?”
The flutter skipped a beat. “Ryan? Uh, no. With Kyle. Why would you think that?”
Stacey shook her head. “I don’t know. I just, I guess … I’m not sure why I thought that. I’ve heard a lot about you from Ryan. I guess I thought you guys were an item, although he probably knows you because of Jack, right? I mean, you’re his sister, so, of course, Ryan knows you. You’ve probably known each other for years.”
Callie sat in awe as Stacey continued on without breathing. “Wow.”
Stacey’s hands stopped moving. “What?”
“Now I know how Jack feels when I ramble.” In less than five seconds, Stacey’s entire neck turned pink. “I don’t mean that as an insult,” said Callie. “I’m impressed. I’m glad to know there are others out there who can keep up with my talking speed.”
Stacey’s lips twitched, working their way up into a half smile. “Thanks. I think.” She shuffled Callie’s hands around, then focused on her nails. “So, you were telling me about your date. Who’s Kyle?”
This time Callie’s face warmed up. “He’s sort of the reason I came home.”
“Your boyfriend?”
“He was my boyfriend, a few years ago.”
“What happened?”
There was more to the story than Callie had time to explain during the twenty-minute manicure. She went with the abbreviated version. “Things didn’t work out, so we broke up.”
“And now you’re going out on a date.” Stacey sighed, smiling. “That’s kind of romantic.”
“Kind of.” Hopefully. But enough of that. This manicure was an excuse to get information. Time to turn the tables. “What about you? Are you dating anyone?”
“No. Tell me more about Kyle. Why did you break up?” Stacey’s eyes never left Callie’s hands.
“It just wasn’t the right time.”
The file scratched quickly and expertly across Callie’s nails. “The right time for what?”
“To get married.”
Stacey looked up, her eyes wide. “You turned down his proposal?”
“No. Kyle never proposed, but I was afraid he would. We were both graduating from college, and it seemed like the next step. I just wasn’t ready for it.”
“But you are now?”
“Maybe, but it’s not really an option now. We’re just having dinner. It’s nothing serious.”
Stacey flashed Callie a quick smile. “But it never hurts to put your best fingers forward.”
“Absolutely.”
The filing resumed. “I still think it’s a romantic idea, the two of you picking up again. Even if you just stay friends, it’s a happy ending.”
But not the ending Callie was counting on. There was more to her trip than just being friends with Kyle, not that she wanted to be talking about her dating habits. Stacey’s dating habits were what intrigued her. “You’re quite the romantic. Why aren’t you seeing anyone?”
“It’s not really my choice.” She switched hands again, drying then filing. “I’d love to date someone, but it’s a two-way street. You can’t make someone love you, you know? Besides, I know God’s got a plan for me. I just have to wait on him.”
“Well said.”
“I mean, look at you. You’ve been waiting. Maybe after all of this time it’s right for you and Kyle. If not, at least you know you’re ready.”
“Yes, but Kyle and I aren’t actually dating. We’re just going out to dinner tonight.”
Stacey cocked her head, spilling her hair onto the table. “How is that not dating?”
“Technically it’s a date, but we’re not a couple.”
Stacey nodded, but her brows pinched together. “Whatever happens, it’s great that you and your ex can stay friends like that.”
Yeah. Friends. Would God really call her back to Traverse City for that? Patching things up with Kyle seemed so obvious, but only to her. Stacey assumed Callie was with Ryan. Of course, all she knew was Callie’s long history with Ryan. It was the more recent history, however, that made her pulse kick.
Stacey jiggled Callie’s hand. “Color?”
“What?”
“Polish?”
“Huh?”
Stacey pointed at the rainbow dis
play. “Sorry to interrupt your thoughts. What color nail polish do you want?”
“Oh!” Callie grabbed an iridescent white and handed the bottle to Stacey. “My mind was wandering to places I’m trying to avoid. I’d rather hear about how you and Jack met.”
Stacey fumbled the bottle, dropping it into the water dish.
Callie tried to hide her smile. She’d known there was more to the story.
“That’s not much of a story.” Stacey dried off the little bottle. “We met at church. He invited me out to the lighthouse for lunch a couple of times. That’s all.”
Lunch? With a girl? “That doesn’t sound like my brother.”
“He doesn’t usually eat lunch?” Stacey set the polish aside and grabbed a clear base coat. When she twisted off the top, a sweet, stinging scent greeted them.
“Yes, but he doesn’t usually invite women to the lighthouse. Were you and Jack dating?”
Callie lurched forward when Stacey pulled on her hand. “Sorry,” Stacey said, her neck turning pink again.
“Oh my gosh, you were. And I keep bringing it up. Stacey, I’m sorry.” How could she have missed the signs?
“Don’t apologize. We weren’t dating.” Stacey swiped the clear coat over the rest of the nails. “I think your brother is wonderful, and confusing, and he and Ryan have become two of my best friends. They’ve really helped me get to know God. They’re so smart about the Bible.”
Stacey managed to finish the first hand before dropping her hands to the table and looking up at Callie. “My family has a long history of bad relationships, but I’m not like them. I don’t date because I don’t want to get distracted. That was a lot easier before I started going to church, because none of the guys I knew before thought about anything but themselves, and some of the guys at church are so different. But I still don’t want to do anything stupid, so I’ve turned that over to God and I’m letting him tell me what to do, and I’m just trying to keep praying and let things work out, because I don’t want to get distracted with a relationship that isn’t going anywhere.”
Callie stared at the sincere, confused eyes looking back at her while she processed Stacey’s explanation. Distractions at church? “So you like Jack?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You sort of did. Listen, I get it. Jack’s a good guy. My dad beat that into him when we were kids—”
“You know,” Stacey leaned forward, her neck now a brilliant shade of red, “this is a little awkward.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed so hard. You don’t know me, and—”
“And you think I like your brother.”
“Yes.”
“It doesn’t matter, though, because I don’t want to get distracted.” Stacey shook her head but smiled. “Maybe we need a new subject. Jack told me you’re a music teacher. Tell me about your job.”
Twenty minutes later Stacey knew all the horrors of third-graders with recorders, and Callie’s fingers sparkled. Stacey escorted her client to an empty chair, giving her a quick hug.
“I’m so glad you came in today,” said Stacey. “Come in again before you leave. You can tell me more about Alma.”
“I will.”
“Melissa will finish up with your hair. Have fun on your date tonight.”
Callie smiled and sat on the soft-leather seat. “I will.”
Before she walked away, Stacey leaned down, her long hair brushing against Callie’s cheek. “Please don’t tell Jack what I said,” she whispered.
“Of course not.” Callie wouldn’t say anything, but maybe she could find another way to help Stacey and Jack see what she’d already figured out.
As Jack pushed the wide orange cart, one of the wheels wobbled. Then it squeaked. Continuously. He considered swapping it for a different cart, but it was already after five, and he hadn’t been back to the lighthouse all day. Though he trusted Callie’s ability with a power washer, he wanted to make sure he had enough daylight left to fix any of her mistakes. He needed to shop fast.
The cart squeaked through the aisles. Jack searched for the few things he needed to install new sinks at the township hall. He quickly filled the cart, then headed toward the front of the store. That’s when Stacey walked in.
He almost didn’t recognize her. The black clothes and fancy shoes made her look older and professional. She wore her hair down at church, but not like this. It curled and moved around her shoulders and back. Not for the first time he wondered if it felt as soft as it looked. She saw him and smiled. Before he knew how it happened, they were standing together in the lighting aisle.
Jack nodded. “You’re not going to try to build a house, are you?”
Stacey laughed. “No, I’m just here to pick up a few things for my apartment. I need to replace a couple of outlet covers and a light fixture.”
“Did you talk to your landlord about it?”
“Yep.” She crossed her arms, tipping her head back and grinning. “I told him I’d do it if he’d knock some money off of next month’s rent. He agreed.”
“Have you worked with electricity before?”
Stacey narrowed her eyes. “I’ve installed two ceiling fans, thank you very much. You don’t need to worry about me. I’m not a child.”
She spun around, whipping her hair through the air. Her heels clicked on the concrete floor as she sauntered away, not looking anything like a child. Maybe that’s why Jack’s mouth opened before he could stop himself.
“Do you want some help?”
Stacey stopped. She looked back at him, her chin in the air. “I don’t need your help. Thank you.”
Jack pushed his cart after her. “I’m sure you don’t need my help, but I’m offering. Haven’t we had this conversation before?”
Instead of answering, Stacey shoved the cart aside, so she could walk right up to him, hands on her hips. She said something, but Jack didn’t hear it. He’d expected her to smell like perfume and hairspray, like Callie did when she got dressed up, but as she moved closer, she reminded him of cinnamon rolls and ice cream. Stacey’s hands dropped to her side as she looked at him.
Jack watched his own hand reach out and brush aside a stray piece of her hair. As soft as feathers. “You could probably remodel the entire apartment yourself, but I’d like to help you.”
She swallowed. “Why?”
“Because I can’t resist a woman in a tool belt.”
Her neck went pink.
He smiled. “Why do you keep trying to say no?”
Then red. Stacey grabbed a piece of hair and twisted it through her fingers. “Because I don’t know what to think about you, and I’m afraid to find out. I’m a bad judge of character when it comes to men, and I don’t need to make another mistake.”
Something weird clenched in his gut. “You think I’d be a mistake?”
“No, I … why do you care?” Her fingers paused. “This is why I don’t know what to think about you.” Releasing her hair, she poked Jack’s shoulder. “You are a confusing man, and I am a hopeless romantic. Every time you offer to help me, my mind goes crazy and I start imagining things, but then you don’t talk to me for a week, and I have to remind myself that life isn’t a romance novel, at least not for me, and I don’t need to know how this is going to end, but I at least want to know the next step, so I can either move on with my life or keep hoping.” Stacey huffed. Her eyes, closer to his than normal, shifted, scanning his face as he processed her words.
“I’m confusing you?” He didn’t even know how to process that tirade.
She nodded, her hair bouncing forward with each movement.
Jack pushed it back over her shoulder. “I’m giving mixed signals.”
She pushed his hand away. “I know.”
“I don’t know what else to do.”
“Well, I don’t want to wait around
while you figure it out.” She waved her finger between them. “I’ve done this before. Some guy doesn’t know what he wants, so he wants everything until he decides there’s something better for him out there, and I won’t do it again. You should probably take some time to figure out what you want, and I should probably give myself some space.” She pulled her purse closer to her chest. “It’s not me, it’s you.”
The words smacked Jack in the face. “It’s what?”
Stacey smiled. “I need a light fixture. I’m sure I’ll see you at church.”
Jack just stood there holding onto his cart as Stacey disappeared around the corner. She was right. It was his fault. She scared him, excited him, challenged him to be a better man, and she didn’t even know she was doing it. Did she?
The faint clicking of her heels almost faded away before he snapped back into the moment and chased after her. He found her examining outlet covers when he rounded the corner.
“You can’t run away now,” he said, stomping up to her. “Talk about confusing. Why would you tell me that?”
Stacey’s hand shook as she put the covers back on the shelf. She locked her fingers in front of her and stared at the ground. “I’m so embarrassed,” she whispered. “I can’t believe I just said all of that.”
“Me neither.” He crossed his arms. “But you said it, and now you won’t even look at me.”
“Can we pretend like this didn’t happen?”
“Normally, I’d love to, but I’m just as confused as you are. What do I need to do to fix this?”
“Nothing. I get it.” She finally looked at him. “You’re not really interested in me, but I keep sucking you into these stupid projects. Then I read into everything you say and do, and now I’m blaming it on you. I’m sorry.”
“Why?”
“For guilt-tripping you into things.” She wrapped a piece of hair around her finger. “And for getting emotional about it. Now will you please leave me alone?”
Jack shook his head. “You’re not guilt-tripping me into anything. I’m the one who offered.”
