Page 21 of Weatherman

I snipped and clipped, watching the shining locks as they glided through my comb. He talked and asked questions. Where did I come from in Minnesota? How did I like living in North Carolina? Did I like working in this salon? Thankfully, he didn’task too much about my religious background. I was nervous about telling him I had none.

His hair was nice. With lots of body and a slight wave, it lay well and had the spicy scent of American Crew products. He was pleasant and uncomplicated, and I found myself enjoying this brief encounter. The cut didn’t take very long, and when I finished, he turned his head back and forth with that peaceful, easy smile returning to his face. I wasn’t sure it ever left.

“This is so much better than the barbershop. You’re very talented.”

“Thanks.” Another blush.What is wrong with me?

He handed me two twenties at the counter and told me to keep the change. My déjà vu sense buzzed, remembering the last time a man handed me that exact amount. Weatherman.God… uh… gosh, why did he crop up now?

“…coffee soon?”

I caught the tail end of Robert’s inquiry but clued in enough to determine that he’d asked me out for coffee. “Um… I don’t have a lot of free time, but we’ll see.”

His smile deepened. “Aggie told me you’re widowed and have a little girl. I’m sorry for your loss, and please bring her along if that’s easier for you.”

He didn’t mind that I had a kid. “Okay.”

He extended his hand to me. “Well, Miss Opal, I hope I’ll be seeing you soon.”

I took his hand. Warm. Dry. Firm but not squeezing.

I rang up his cut, tucked my tip in my back jeans pocket, and did my best to ignore the speculative looks from the waiting area. I wanted to tell them it was just a cut, but it didn’t matter if I did or not. Salon gossip would never be suppressed.

I just hoped it would turn from me to something else as soon as possible.

CHAPTER 11

Weatherman passed cleanlyover the turning T and, at the precise moment, flipped to kick off in the other direction. He stretched his arms in a simple freestyle stroke as he glided easily through the water. Other swimmers filled the lanes this early morning, some in training for competition and some simply to work out.

He loved the rhythm of this stroke. Three flutter kicks to each arm recovery.

One-two-three.

One-two-three.

One-two-three.

Steady, smooth movements and easy, controlled breathing, his whole body working to cut through the water with as little drag as possible.

Even though the pool was filled with other people, he still considered himself sealed off from the world for a bit. The water muffled sounds, and his sight was limited by the goggles he wore. He could think here as he moved in this comfortable pattern.

This was his main stroke while he was in competitive swimming. He did the 100m, 200m, and 400m races as well asrelays. A few times, he swam the 100 IM (individual medley) where he used all four racing strokes, but his butterfly wasn’t as fast, as he didn’t have the long arms and torso needed for that particular one.

He hit the T and flipped again. His mom came to every race day at the Y when he was a child, and later at the university. She did the chaperone thing, brought snacks and water for the team, and helped with all the fundraising necessary to support the league. He remembered getting out of the pool to see her big smile no matter if he placed or not. She never minded the wet hugs.

There were the occasional dates, but no one special. There was one man who she dated for a few months, but it didn’t work out. He didn’t like the guy very much, and when he asked his mom why they broke up, she gave him her serene smile and told him she didn’t think he was a good fit for them.

“It takes a strong man to be a stepfather, Bryce,” she’d said. “Not every man has the mettle for it. I’d rather be single than settle for someone who isn’t up for the job.”

How much of her life had she given up to be his mom?

Opal came to his mind as he flipped and started another lap. He could see a lot of his mom in her. Hardworking and totally dedicated to her child. To his knowledge, she wasn’t dating anyone, and if he was correct, she wouldn’t consider anyone who took her time away from Pearl.

“It takes a strong man to be a stepfather.”

His thoughts had thrown his timing off, and he almost missed the T. Whatever madness had him thinking about Opal had to stop. He needed to concentrate on the mess that was his job and the mess that was his mom’s health. Dating? Something more? Not in the cards.

He hit the wall and pulled himself out in one movement. Water sluiced from his Speedo-clad body as he lifted his goggles to rest on the latex swim cap over his hair.

---