by Liwen Y. Ho
“Is something wrong?” Mrs. Connelly wrung her hands together. “Oh, I look horrible, don’t I? I knew I wouldn’t be able to pull this off.”
“Oh, no, no. This has nothing to do with your hair. So sorry! I didn’t mean to worry you.” Bria rubbed her client’s shoulder to console her. “Open your eyes. You look great.”
Mrs. Connelly opened one eye then the other. Her jaw dropped as she stared at her reflection. “Oh, girl, you did good! Thank you so much! I love it.” She turned from side to side to admire her new do. “You are a miracle worker.”
Bria squeezed out a smile. Miracle worker? If only that were true. With the way things were going lately, she could use a miracle. She had two men interested in her, but she wanted nothing to do with either of them. All she wished for was to make enough money each month to keep a roof over her and Seth’s heads and put food on the table. And peace, if that were possible. Peace from her past regrets, as well as the people associated with those regrets who wouldn’t leave her alone.
Life didn’t make sense sometimes. Or maybe it was just her life. She’d confessed her sins long ago and turned over a new leaf after Seth was born. Becoming a single mother at age twenty-two had pushed her to grow up and start taking her faith seriously. Not having her family’s support had forced her to rely on God, the One she’d forsaken during college. Things had been looking up the past year since she’d found this current salon to work at. The bills were finally getting paid on time, and she had formed some friendships at her church. She thought she’d finally found some semblance of peace, until her ex called her out of the blue last month. Even worse, he wouldn’t stop calling.
“Is everything all right, Bria?” Mrs. Connelly tilted her head and looked at her with concern. “Is someone bothering you?”
She glanced down. She hadn’t realized she was clutching her phone tightly with both hands against her chest. Loosening her grip, she placed it back in her pocket. “It’s my ex-boyfriend. It’s a long story,” she added with a sigh. One she didn’t want to talk about, especially with a client. And especially not with her son sitting thirty feet away on the other side of the salon.
With school out for the summer and no money for childcare, Bria’s only option was to bring Seth with her to work. Thankfully, her boss didn’t mind, so long as he stayed quiet and out of their way. She glanced over her shoulder to where he sat cross-legged in a plastic chair. As usual, he had his head down in a book, the second one he’d read that day. They’d likely need to make another trip to the library tomorrow at the rate he was reading. This was one time, however, that she appreciated his quiet nature. Her boy was the one source of peace in her crazy life.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Now it was Mrs. Connelly’s turn to console Bria. She placed a wrinkled hand on her arm. “I don’t know if you’re a person of prayer, but God knows what you’re going through. He’ll provide for your needs.”
“I know He will.” Bria smiled gratefully. “I’ve been a Christian since I was six, but I went through a bit of a prodigal son phase when I was younger. I’ve been facing the consequences of the choices I made then. Unfortunately, dealing with my ex is one of them.”
The older woman nodded thoughtfully. “I see. Well, if it’s any consolation, nothing that happens is a surprise to the Lord. The real surprise is seeing how He turns things around for us. And when He doesn’t change the circumstance, He does something even better.”
“What’s that?”
“He changes hearts.”
Bria blinked. In that moment, she felt as if God was speaking directly to her. Or maybe He was. An idea popped into her head. She was going to start praying for her ex, that God would change him. “Thank you, Mrs. Connelly. You don’t know how much I needed to hear that.”
Mrs. Connelly smiled as she rose to her feet. “Then my work here is done. It’s time I go show off my new hairstyle to the world. Thank you, dear. When should I come back for a trim?”
“Four to six weeks is a good amount of time.” Bria walked her to the register where she rang her up. As she handed her some change, she added, “Thanks so much for your wise words. Hopefully the next time you come in, I’ll have good news to tell you.”
Bria waved goodbye and looked at her schedule for the rest of the day. There were two more appointments back-to-back starting at twelve thirty. She checked her watch. If she sent Seth to buy lunch right now, she’d have fifteen minutes to eat before the next client showed up.
Walking over to her son, she called out, “Hey, buddy, are you hungry?” She pulled some cash from her pocket and waved it in front of him. “Why don’t you go next door and buy some sandwiches for us.”
Seth glanced up from his book with wide eyes. Shaking his head adamantly, he asked, “Can you get them?”
“I can’t leave the salon. I’m the only one working right now. It’s just next door, bud. We’ve been there plenty of times. Just order our usual.” She stuffed the money in his hand. “You can even get a bag of chips or a cookie.” Bria grinned with enthusiasm, even though inside, her annoyance grew. Why did Seth have such a hard time socializing? When she was his age, she was singing solos with the church choir in front of hundreds of people. Sure, her parents had pushed her to perform, but she had enjoyed the attention. Why couldn’t her son have inherited some of her traits?
“I-I’m scared. What if they ask me questions? I don’t want to go.” He opened his hand and let the twenty-dollar bill fall to the floor. “I’m not hungry anyway.”
Bria threw her hands up in frustration. He wasn’t hungry, but she was. She wouldn’t be able to last on her feet for another three hours without something in her stomach. Gritting her teeth, she tried again. “Seth, baby, please try. I’ll pack lunch for us the rest of the week, okay? But we both need to eat today. So I need you to go next door and buy us some food. Any food.”
“Mom, no …”
She plucked the book out of his hands and stuffed the money into his fist. Pulling him to his feet, she walked him—or maybe dragged was a better word—to the front of the store. “You can do this. You’re a big boy, Seth. I’ll be waiting right here for you. Now, go!” With that final command, she pushed him out the door and said a quick prayer for God to start changing hearts, beginning with her son’s.
Chapter Seven
Brandon
Brandon looked up as the bell over the sandwich shop door jingled. A young boy walked in, his face almost as pale as the white-blond hair falling into his eyes. His heart clenched as he observed him. Looking at the boy was like looking at a photo of himself as a kid. That deer-in-the-headlights, get-me-outta-here expression was all too familiar. Who was this child, and where were his parents?
The boy shuffled his feet over to the counter and waited behind another customer. When he reached the front of the line, he handed some money to the store clerk and mumbled a few words. From Brandon’s table ten feet away, he could barely hear the boy’s voice. Ham? Tuna? He had no idea what he had ordered; neither did the man helping him. The worker leaned forward and asked him to repeat himself. Brandon caught his answer this time: the usual.
He supposed this boy came here often. At least he wasn’t lost, that much was clear. But he was definitely out of his element. A wave of empathy washed over Brandon. He set his sandwich down and wiped his hands. Should he, could he? It wouldn’t hurt to go over and talk to the boy, right?
He approached the counter slowly, as if any sudden movements would send the boy running. When he reached his side, he smiled and leaned down. “Hey, I’m Brandon. I just wanted to tell you what an awesome job you’re doing buying lunch by yourself. I wouldn’t have been brave enough to do this when I was your age.”
The boy’s eyes grew round, so round that his pupils looked like black disks suspended in seas of blue. He licked his lips and swallowed hard. “Th-thanks.”
Brandon took his answer—breathy as it was—as a good sign. “Is your mom or dad waiting for you outside? You’re not by
yourself, are you?”
He shook his head.
“No, they’re not waiting for you or no, you’re not by yourself?” Brandon chuckled. “I should’ve asked those questions separately, huh?”
Two large front teeth peeked out as the boy gave him a small smile. “M-my mom’s n-next door.”
“Oh, good.” Brandon returned his smile. “That’s good to know. I just wanted to be sure you’re safe.”
The boy smiled again, this time wider.
Next door? Brandon cocked his head as the answer registered in his brain. Did he mean next door as in the pet grooming store or next door as in the salon—Bria’s workplace? “Are you talking about the dog washing place?”
“N-no.”
“You mean the hair salon?”
The boy nodded eagerly.
“Oh, cool. I’m actually headed there soon. I’m going to get a haircut after lunch.” Brandon swallowed hard. Now that he’d said the words out loud, he wasn’t sure it was such a good idea. For one thing, he didn’t even have an appointment. Not making one had been an out for him. If Bria didn’t have time, he wouldn’t have to follow through on his plan. But if she did—he gulped, not knowing which option he preferred.
“You don’t have to worry.”
“Huh?” Brandon looked over at the boy. Had he just talked to him without prompting? “What was that?”
“My m-mom’s nice. People like her.” He gave him a hopeful look. His pupils had returned to their normal size, allowing his blue eyes to shine. “You can ask her to cut your hair.”
“Oh, you can tell I’m nervous, can’t you?” Brandon exhaled a shaky breath. “You see, it’s been a long time since I’ve—” he hesitated “—gone to a salon.” Only he needed to know salon was code word for talked to a girl.
The boy nodded knowingly. “For a long time, I didn’t want my hair cut. I don’t like having sharp things near my head. That’s why my mom uses electric clippers. She can use them on you, if you want.”
The tension in Brandon’s shoulders fell away. This kid sure was endearing and easy to talk to. “That’s a great idea, buddy. Thank you.”
“If you need help picking a hairstyle, my mom can help with that, too. She’s real good at her job.”
“Yeah? That’s good to know.” Brandon smiled. Maybe if Bria wasn’t available for a haircut, he’d ask this boy’s mom. He was certain she’d do a better job than he did at home. “I usually cut my own hair, but maybe it’s time to try something new. What do you think if I dyed it pink?” he joked. “Or purple?”
The boy let loose a toothy grin that lit up his entire face. “Blue would be cool.”
Brandon ran a hand through his short hair as he pretended to consider the boy’s suggestion. “Yeah, blue. I like that. Thanks for the idea.”
The man behind the counter set a paper bag in front of the boy, along with a handful of loose change. The boy stood up on his tiptoes to gather everything.
“Here, let me.” Brandon handed him the bills then scooped up the coins before dropping them into his small palm. “Why don’t you put those in your pocket so you have your hands free to hold the sandwiches?”
The boy did as Brandon suggested. He stuffed the money into the pockets of his shorts and carefully patted the Velcro closures shut. He then reached for the to-go bag. With a look of relief, he stated, “Thank you for your help.”
“Of course, buddy. Anytime.” Brandon walked him to the front door and held it open. “I’ll wait here until you get next door.”
Brandon watched the boy walk down the sidewalk to the next storefront. It warmed his heart to see his steps a lot steadier than they were earlier. This kid would be okay, he was sure of it. With the right amount of encouragement, he’d gain some confidence to face the world.
The boy balanced the bag with one hand while he reached for the door handle with the other. The door swung wide as someone from the inside held it open for him. Soon after, he disappeared inside the salon.
Brandon was about to head back inside the shop to finish his lunch when the salon door opened again. He squinted against the bright noonday sun and made out the petite form of a woman.
She waved and called out to him, “Thanks for helping my son! That was very kind of you.”
His jaw dropped. Could it be? “Bria? Is that you?”
“Brandon?” Shock laced her voice as well. “You’re the man who helped Seth?”
He let go of the sandwich shop’s door, letting it swing shut behind him. With tentative steps, he walked toward the woman of his dreams for the second time in a week. “Seth’s your son?” He blinked in surprise. “I had no idea.”
With one foot propping the door ajar, she crossed her arms. The black apron she wore boasted the words Chic Cuts in curvy letters on her chest. Several plastic combs and the handles of metal scissors and brushes poked out of the large pockets on the front. Bria’s hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, revealing the slender curve of her neck. With minimal make-up on, she looked as young as she had in college. Her sheepish expression also reflected the one she’d had after they’d kissed all those years ago.
“Yeah.” She lowered her voice as she continued. “He’s the reason I left school.”
“Oh.” Brandon was close enough now to see the dark circles under her eyes. “I had no idea,” he repeated, still in disbelief.
“Actually, that’s not true. The real reason I left school is because I flunked out. He’s the reason I didn’t go back. That’s why I ended up cutting hair.” She jerked her thumb toward the inside of the salon. “A lot’s happened in the last ten years.”
Brandon nodded. “Yeah, a lot.” He scratched the back of his neck as he tried to gather his thoughts. Why was it he could write hundreds of pages of eloquent sentences, but he couldn’t verbalize a single word when he needed to? All he wanted was to tell Bria he wished she had confided in him about her struggles. That he would’ve done anything to help her out. But all he said was, “He’s a great kid—Seth. We had a good chat.”
Bria smiled, erasing the exhaustion in her face for a moment. “He is. Not that I had anything to do with how he turned out. It’s all God.”
“He speaks highly of you,” Brandon assured her, “and your haircutting skills. I told him I needed a haircut, and he said I’d be in good hands with you. Not in those exact words, but something to the effect.”
She quirked a brow. “I’m surprised you got all that out of him. He’s never that open with strangers. To tell you the truth, I was a little worried when he told me he met a nice man at the sandwich shop. He was right though,” she added with a twinkle in her eyes. “I’m glad you were there to help him. It was his first time buying something on his own. I normally wouldn’t let him go somewhere by himself, but I was desperate. My boss called in sick, so I’m manning the place by myself today. If I don’t eat after a couple of hours on my feet, I get really—”
“Cranky,” he finished for her. “I know. You used to bring snacks to lectures. Yogurt-covered pretzels. Granola bars. Trail mix. You had your own convenience store in your backpack.”
“I did, didn’t I?” An amused look crossed her face. “You have a really good memory, you know that?”
Brandon had to agree, especially when it came to Bria. “I have a knack for details. I guess it comes with being a writer.”
Her gaze lingered on his face for an extra beat. “Well, I need to get some food in my stomach now. Thank you again for watching out for Seth.”
“Yeah, no problem.” Brandon stuck his hands in his pockets, wishing they didn’t have to end their conversation already. There was still so much he wanted to ask Bria. “I guess I’ll see you around.”
Bria paused with one hand on the doorframe. “If you want a haircut, I have an opening in an hour.”
“You do? That’d be great.” He nodded readily. “I’ll be back then.”
He waved at Bria and headed back to the sandwich shop. As he strolled down the sidewalk, he n
oticed his own steps had grown lighter and more assured. He was certain it was because, for the first time in a long time, the door to his heart was opening again, filling him with a great sense of hope.
Chapter Eight
Bria
Bria snuck one last bite of her sandwich before the next client walked through the door. For the next half hour, she worked on the young woman’s hair, trimming the dry, split ends. Once she got the length right, she blew the long locks dry.
While she worked, she kept an eye on Seth who was back to reading his book in the corner of the salon. Her heart clenched seeing him there. So often she wished he had more friends, or any friends for that matter. She’d asked his teachers if his lack of social skills was a problem, but they all assured her he was their prize student, cooperative and quiet. She sighed. Those were the exact qualities that made her wonder if he’d ever make it in the real world. Unless there was a job that required one to sit and read all day, she didn’t know what Seth would end up doing with his life.
However, what Brandon said about his and Seth’s interaction had encouraged her. In fact, seeing her old friend an hour ago had been an unexpected bright spot in her day. Brandon had that effect on her. He’d always been steady and calm, the one constant during her otherwise stormy college days. The way he’d accepted her news about Seth surprised her, too, although it shouldn’t have. He had never judged her or her choices. It was as if nothing could change the way he saw her, a thought that both comforted and worried her. His friendship had meant so much to her before; it would be good to reconnect. But could he still be hung up on her after all these years?
Brandon entered the salon at that moment. He waved shyly at her then found a spot on the couch in the waiting area. He grabbed a magazine off the table and opened it up. His very pose—closed and hunched over—reminded her of Seth’s and was a visual reminder of why she’d never seen him as more than a friend. He just wasn’t her type.
