Page 29 of When Hairy Met Stella

“Here’s your station,” Josie said as they approached a large, red barn. She walked behind a large table off to the side of the path. Covered with a black cloth, it had orange streamers and a matching flashing light strand draped in the front. Pumpkins of varying sizes and shapes, carved with unique faces, glowed on either end of the table while bins of treats lay hidden underneath. “When the children come, they’ll deposit a ticket into the bucket, and you’ll give them a treat. It’s how we keep trick-or-treaters from hitting the stations more than once.”

She nodded. “Sounds easy enough. We can work on our gingerdead houses in the meantime, right? Someone from the senior center will be by to pick them up tomorrow?”

Josie nodded. “Mr. McMannus will be here at nine. So, if you don’t have any questions, I’m off to make my rounds.” She turned to make her way down the path toward the chicken coop when she stopped. “I almost forgot. There’s a walkie-talkie in the treat bin, in case you need to get ahold of me for any reason. But it also connects with the other treat stations, so keep that in mind. There’s also a box with supplies for the ginger-dead houses. You can work on them throughout the night when you get a break and just drop them off in the conference room at the lodge when you’re ready.”

“Got it,” Stella said as she held up the walkie-talkie and placed it on the table.

“So, what do we do now?” Nate asked as he joined Stella behind the table.

She pushed the pieces of straw on her wrist to the side to check her watch. “Well, this shindig begins in twenty minutes, so I guess we can work on our ginger-dead house.” She sat in one of the two chairs behind the table and gestured for him to join her.

A cool breeze rustled the few remaining leaves on the trees around them, filling the air with the classic autumn scent he’d always loved. And mixed with the scent of gingerbread, it was his new favorite scent.

He unwrapped a giant gummy in the shape of a skull. “So, what’s the story with these houses? Lucy said this was your idea.”

“Yep. The one part of the week she let me plan.” She chuckled softly as she smeared some frosting on a black gumdrop and pushed it onto the preassembled house. “Lucy likes giving back to the community, so these will be a fun way to decorate thesenior center for the holiday. Plus, I thought Lucy might enjoy something artistic, seeing as she is literally an artist.”

“Just like you.”

She quirked a brow. “Like me?”

“Of course.”

Stella pulled a Hershey’s Kiss from the bag, twisting it back and forth before grabbing a black marker. “I’m no artist, that’s for sure.” She pulled off the cap and drew tiny eyes and a mouth, somehow turning the simple candy into a ghost-like creature.

“You don’t think what you do is artistic?”

She eyed the Kiss and then looked over at him. “You think what I dois?”

“Not that,” he said with a laugh. “But maybe that? That’s a creative take on a piece of candy.” She stuck the candy to the top of the roof, and he noticed a tiny blush staining her cheeks. “I meant at the salon. Every person who sits in your chair is a canvas waiting for your artistic touch. And you’re so good at bringing out the best in people.”

“Ah, I’ve come a long way.” She pulled a pumpkin-shaped Peep from the bag and placed it near the house’s door.

“Was it what you always wanted to do?”

She twisted her lips as her shoulders fell slightly, her eyes drifting to the side like she was weighing what she wanted to say next. “Not exactly.” Her fingers toyed with the wrapper of an orange starlight mint, and he wondered if that was all he was going to get out of her. But then she continued. “I was meant to be a performer.”

The way she said it—meant to be—felt like a purposeful word choice somehow. “Like a dancer?”

A laugh erupted from her so loud it woke the tiny donkey who’d been napping next to the barn behind them. “You saw me dancing before I punched you, right?”

He had. He just didn’t know that she’d known that part. And now he was the one with red cheeks. And neck. And chest.

“Not singing, then,” he joked.

“Definitely not singing.” She put the last piece of candy corn on the roof and pushed back from the table. “I auditioned at Julliard. I was going to be an actor.”

Whoa.So, this wasn’t just a hobby. When she said she was meant to do this, she’d really meant it. “That’s impressive.”

“Yes, well…my audition was not.” She blew out a sigh. “I got up on the stage and totally spaced. I’d spent most of my life until that point on a stage and never missed a word of dialogue. But that day…I totally choked.”

“Gosh, that…sucks.” He didn’t know what to say, but most things would have been better than that. Stating the obvious was totally lame. Or so he thought…until he saw her smile.

“You’re right. It did suck. Big time.” And then her smile fell. “My ex felt the same.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean to bring up?—”

“Don’t worry about it. I chopped him off like some dead ends last year.” She’d gone for levity, but the sag of her shoulders didn’t quite convey it. “Being on stage so much, I’d had an interest and talent in doing hair and makeup—ahobby,he’d called it. Still even called it that while I was in and when I graduated from cosmetology school. And while I started working at Hairy Stylez. But when I started talking about owning it…” She took a deep breath, and he could see a sheen covering her eyes. “He realized the ‘beauty parlor’ wasn’t a hobby. It was something I was passionate about. Something I enjoyed. And the more he pushed me to ‘get back on the stage,’ the more I realized my chief appeal to him was my worth as a celebrity. Not as a stylist or business owner.”

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