Page 33 of Single All the Way

Edith, a lifesaver who did everythingexcepthair for us, proclaimed, “We’ve never sold so much product in one day. I’ve already started an order to restock.”

“The snacks were a hit,” Claire, our newest stylist, said.

“I know they saved my life,” Raelynn said in her deep drawl. “I didn’t have an extra second for lunch. Couple bites of cheese and a slice of summer sausage between clients was perfect.”

“You all did fantastic today,” I said, ducking into the back room to grab a bottle of champagne. “Thank you, ladies.”

“Black Friday tips always make it a worthwhile day,” Willow said, and everyone agreed. “I could sleep until Monday though.”

“I know you all want to get home as soon as possible, but we deserve a quick toast.”

“Mmm, it’s bubbly time,” Raelynn said.

I poured a flute for each of the seven of us. “To the best team anywhere,” I said, meaning it. We clinked and sipped and hashed out the day and the best stories we’d heard.

I’d brought champagne last year too as an insufficient but well-received thank-you. No question we’d all rather shop till we dropped or stay at home out of the crowds on Black Friday, but these girls pulled together to make it a festive, high-energy, lucrative day.

I guess maybe I did have my own little holiday tradition, Black Friday champagne for the girls, I realized, my mind slipping to Ben not for the first time today.

I’d fielded questions about him and me throughout the day and taken the opportunity to set the record straight that we were just good friends who went way back. Of course, that elicited more than a couple responses insisting that’s what the best marriages were made of. I’d laughed it off heartily every time, hiding the way the m-word made me shudder.

Thanksgiving with Ben, his kids, and Berty was everything he’d promised, the kind of holiday depicted in Norman Rockwell paintings. Every last one of us had helped prepare the feast. We were blessed with way more delicious food than we’d eat in a week.

Before eating, we’d gone around the table and shared what we were most thankful for. When Ben had mentioned it a few days earlier, it had sounded simple and cliché, but the reality was a touching few minutes that reminded my too-busy self of the purpose of the holiday. I’d needed that reminder more than I’d realized.

We’d ended Turkey Day downtown on the square for the annual tree-lighting ceremony, with hot cocoa for everyone. Ben and I had kept the kids between us, like a silent promise to not touch each other again.

We’d focused on the children, making sure they had a magical time, ensuring Skyler was caught up in it every minute. My daughter had chattered nonstop on the way home in Ben’s oversized truck that shocked me by seating six. It was as if it was made for our group.

Thanksgiving had been an alternate reality in a good way, and I had no complaints.

I was packing up what was left of the charcuterie and cookie trays when the bells on the front door of the old-house-turned-salon jingled.

“Mommy!” Skyler hollered before I could turn to see who’d entered. She ran over to me, all the ladies greeting her, Xavier, Ben, and his kids.

As I reached down to catch Skyler, I met Ben’s warm gaze across the room and felt a spark down to my toes. He smiled, and it felt like it was just for me.

Then I did a reality check and reminded myself,Of course he’s happy to see me. He’s been in charge of four kids under ten for hours on end.

“Hey, guys,” I said, picking up Skyler and pulling Xavier into my side with my other hand. “How are my favorite humans?”

I listened as my son told me all about the scavenger hunt, with the other three kiddos excitedly adding details about the grab bags they’d received at the end. My stylists got into the conversation as we sipped our champagne. Ben came closer and said how well behaved the kids had been.

“We’ve had a fun day, haven’t we, kids?”

All four of them enthusiastically agreed. I set Skyler on the floor and watched dutifully as they displayed the trinkets from their prize bags.

“With all that loot, Santa won’t have to worry about you guys this year,” I teased.

“Noo!” Ruby said. “We have to write our Santa letters, Daddy.”

With a laugh, Ben said, “Of course we will. You can use your new glitter pen.”

“I got a purple one, and Evelyn got green,” Ruby said.

“I didn’t get a glitter pen,” Xavier said. “I got a silver marker.”

“I got a pink one!” Sky hollered.

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