Page 45 of Weatherman

“Heard about Katie Grace? Someone told me she got drugged over at that new restaurant a while back.”

“Yeah, I heard about it. Supposed to be some serial wannabe rapist or some such shit.”

That got my attention. I hadn’t met Katie Grace, but then again, I didn’t get out much. My life consisted of work and home. The necessary outings to the laundromat and grocery store were the highlight of my week. Walmart wasn’t my favorite place to go, but it was one-stop shopping that got me food, cabinet hardware, baby clothes, and a new coffee maker to replace the one that died. I only had to pull out the stroller once instead of four or five times at different stores.

This new dramatic discussion had the whole salon wagging their tongues with relish in one big group.

“Blanche told me it was a sex trafficking ring. They’s out for new blood to send overseas to their brothels and to sell to European royalty.”

“You really think some Spanish or French prince is gonna want a hometown girl from the mountains of North Carolina? Puh-leeze.”

“It could happen.”

“Only in the movies or a romance book.”

“I read an article…”

I let the gossip fade to white noise around me. The topic wasn’t one I wanted to hear anything about. I hoped this Katie Grace person was okay. Thankfully, Courtney was in my chair getting a touch-up and cut. She dropped the subject, but then she started in on a new one that wasn’t very comfortable either.

Courtney grinned at me from her reflection in the mirror. “Rumor has it that you paid a visit to Pastor Bobby’s church and sat in the front row. And this is after spending a whole day with him at the Halloween barbecue. Does that mean you’re datin’ him now?”

“I’m… I’m…”How do I answer her?I paused to think about my first real experience with religion.

Yes, I did end up going to his church, as I couldn’t think of a way to get out of it. I didn’t know what to expect from a church service, but what I got was far different from anything I’d imagined. I’d seen movies where preachers yelled out dire warnings about sins and the pits of hell. A “repent or burn” sort of thing that always scared me. The sermon Robert calmly spoke was about kindness, forgiveness, and acceptance. His gentle demeanor fit the image of him behind the pulpit, and several times, he smiled at me as if sharing a special moment. Burna Jones had been in the three-member choir singing loud and “amening” every time she got a chance. I spotted Hilda next to her as she stayed in her grandmother’s shadow.

After the service, while Robert was shaking hands and chatting with his congregation, she approached me shyly. “Can I ask you something?”

Burna was regaling someone with tales of woe from a recent trip to the grocery store, so I turned to the timid girl. “What’s wrong?”

Hilda had looked around nervously before she whispered, “I’ve been asked to the Winter Snowball Dance at school. Andy Melford. He’s on the football team. I still can’t believe he knows who I am. I…”

She bit her lip and stopped speaking for a moment, dropping her gaze to the floor.

I placed a hand on her shoulder to give her a little encouragement. “What is it?”

“Can I make an appointment for you to do my hair and maybe give me some makeup pointers? You always look so pretty, and I’m not, so I thought you could… you know…”

She’d asked for my help, so how could I turn her down? Hair and makeup? This was something I could do—and wanted to.

Hilda kept her voice low. “My grandma doesn’t know Andy asked me. If she did, she won’t let me go. I told her I wanted to go with Kania and Joy so she’d be okay with it.” She inhaled quickly, and her voice grew earnest. “I can pay from my babysitting money. I just… I just…” The air leaked out of her in a long sigh. “I just want to look pretty for him.”

I remembered giving her a slight squeeze on her shoulder to get her eyes back up to mine. “Hey, Hilda. You don’t need to get pretty for anyone. You do that for yourself, not some boy. The hair and makeup? I can take that and make it into something special. I’m glad to help you do up right for your dance, but you need to make sure it’s okay with your grandma. Salon policy about working on minors. Give me a call next week and we’ll set it up, okay?”

Burna had cornered Robert and started in about something. He glanced up and grinned at me with boyish charm as if asking“What else can I do?”In some ways, he was like Brick of the Dragon Runners in that he had responsibilities to care for his people. He listened, advised, and helped them solve problems, all while keeping them together in one big family unit.

Perhaps this wasn’t such a scary place after all. The Lair wasn’t as bad as I’d made it out to be either.

I’d begged off going out for lunch after the service and did a drive-through on my way to do our laundry. Pearl loved scarfing down McDonald’s fries almost as much as she loved her toygay-toh.

And I had a lot to think about.

I should have expected the glances and inquiries at the salon. Eventually, all news made its way here.

Courtney was still expecting an answer, and I only had one to give. “We’re just friends.”

Yeah, it sounded lame even to my ears, but it was all I had.

She giggled with sparkling eyes. “He’s quite a catch. Handsome, secure, and soooo nice. You could do a lot worse.”

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