Page 79 of The Love Shack

Since she was having a hard time leaving, she knew that wasn’t a problem. “Guaranteed.” Next time, she’d get him to her house, and hopefully Hero wouldn’t mind. She figured if she could adjust, the dog could, too.

And she was adjusting just fine.

12

It was brightand sunny on Sunday when Lark knocked on the back door of Berkley’s home. She immediately wondered if she should have gone to the front, like an actual visitor, but she’d never seen Berkley use that entry and—

The door swung open and Berkley welcomed her with a huge smile, Hero and Cheese at her side. One of the things she liked most about Berkley was her love of animals. The other was her warm way of greeting people. She wasn’t a chatterbox like Lark, but her reserved manner felt cozy.

The cat shot out before Lark could step in. “Oh, no!” Juggling her supplies, she reached out, but she wasn’t even sure how to catch a cat, and it was already too late anyway. Cheese raced off as if being chased.

“It’s fine,” Berkley told her. “Cheese is a free spirit. I long ago gave up trying to keep her contained.”

“Where do you think she’s going?”

“Probably to steal something else from Lawson.” As they went inside, Berkley explained about her cat’s history of swiping things. It was an amusing story.

While Berkley poured them each iced tea, Lark took a few minutes to greet Hero. Unlike Cheese, the dog tended to stick right with Berkley most of the time.

“Where do you want to do this?” Lark asked. “I can set up anywhere.”

“I guess just the kitchen, if you’re sure that’s okay.” Wrinkling her nose, Berkley said, “My bathroom is really tiny.”

“No problem at all.” After digging around in her enormous tote bag, Lark located a small towel that she opened on the counter, set out two bowls, mixing brushes, tubes of hair color, scissors, combs, clips and foils. Lastly, she withdrew a large clear plastic shower curtain and spread it over the floor. When she realized Berkley was watching with interest, she said, “To avoid any drips and to catch any hair.”

“This is all new to me,” Berkley admitted. “I’ve always done my hair myself, and it shows.”

“Are you kidding me? Girl, you have hidden talents. Your hair looks amazing. I totally thought you had a high-end stylist.”

Dubious, Berkley slanted her a look. “I have gotten it trimmed a few times, but just at those supercheap walk-in places. I’m kind of excited for this new experience.”

“Me, too. I actually love doing hair, so yay me. Not everyone can say they enjoy their job.”

“I feel the same about my job, so I know what you mean.” Berkley tugged at a hank of hair over her ear. “I was thinking...”

“Hair idea? Lay it on me. I’m flexible.”

She eyed the products Lark had set out. “If you already had a plan, I don’t want to throw a kink in the works.”

“Ohhh, a kink,” Lark teased. “Seriously. Let’s talk about it.” She took a seat and tried to look solemnly interested, when really, she couldn’t wait to get started. She hadn’t lied about Berkley’s hair. It was gorgeous and thick, and Lark wanted to play with it, style it, be adventurous with color and give her a great cut.

“Well.” Berkley took the seat opposite her. “What would you think of me going back to my natural color, which is sort of a plain medium brown, but still with some color to jazz it up?” Rushing on, she said, “I dyed it so long ago just to be different, to look like someone other than myself. But now...” A slow smile appeared. “Now I’m kind of reconnecting with the old me, but meshing it with the new me, and I think it’d be easier to maintain if I just—”

Shooting out of her seat, Lark exclaimed, “Love it!” She threaded her fingers into Berkley’s hair and examined her roots. “I can see the color under the bleach. It’s beautiful! Not plain brown at all, but more auburn.” Turning to the counter, she located her phone and began scrolling. “Oh,this. What do you think?” She turned the screen for Berkley to see an image of a woman with brown hair, but with a few lighter, more golden streaks around her face. “It’s still bold, but it would be beautiful with your coloring.”

With new excitement, Berkley sat forward to view the image. “Oh, wow. Yeah, that’s stunning.” She twisted her mouth. “It won’t look like that on me, though. That woman has really healthy hair.”

“Your hair isn’t unhealthy. I think you’re just tired of it. Admittedly, this style will look a little different, though,” Lark agreed. “Your hair is wavier, which I actually think will be better. Trust me?”

A grin that turned into a laugh preceded Berkley’s enthusiastic nod. “Tell you what.” She threw out her arms. “Do as you like. Surprise me. I trust you completely.”

Such simple words, but they meant a lot to Lark. Pressing a hand to her heart, she said, “Thank you.” At the most critical moment of her life, her own family hadn’t trusted her, but Berkley, a new friend, did.

Sure, the differences were there, yet it still felt substantial. “It’s going to take a few hours,” Lark warned.

“Okay by me. Erin and Whitley offered to hang around to see about the animals, so I have time if you do.”

“Are you kidding? I’ve been looking forward to this all week.” Moving a chair to the center of the shower curtain on the floor, she gestured where she wanted Berkley. She clipped up her hair, wrapped a towel around her neck, followed by a long cape to protect her clothes front and back.