Page 3 of Everlasting Promises

I press my lips together, hiding my grin at his adorable pout. “I’ll tell you what. After breakfast, I’ll cut your hair.” His frown deepens, but I ignore him. “Then, humor me and join me on a bike ride, and I’ll leave you to do your thing with your friends for the rest of the day.”

His eyes narrow as he contemplates my offer. “Hmmm, you drive a tough bargain, but okay. That sounds reasonable.”

“Fantastic,” I say as I carry the pancakes to the table. Evan wastes no time dropping a couple onto his plate and diving in, as if I haven’t fed him in a week. “Hey, slow down.”

“I can’t! They’re too good,” he mumbles around a mouthful of food.

I can’t argue there, this batch tastes exceptionally delicious for some reason.

We clear the table, and Evan wipes the dishes as I wash. Then, I set up a chair on the back porch and trim his hair.

As the brown strands slide through my fingers, I flash back to a time when Wyatt would let me cut his hair while I was training to be a hairstylist. I chuckle under my breath. Some haircuts Igave him were hideous, and he’d have to wear a hat to cover the disaster, but he never once denied me when I asked to practice on him. My heart flips in my chest as I remember his steadfast support, which never wavered during the time we were together.

2

HOPE

I jumpon one leg to put on my second shoe. “C’mon, Evan, you’re gonna be late for your first day!” I call out as I fasten the last buttons of my work shirt.

Mom’s better at keeping Evan on time, but I wanted to take him on his first day of middle school. She’s such a godsend, looking after him, so I can open the salon each morning. I don’t know how I’d manage without her.

“I’m coming!” he shouts down the stairs.

By the time I’ve grabbed my purse, he’s puffing and panting at my side. “Let’s go.”

We climb into the car, and I load up Evan’s favorite playlist to hopefully make him smile. His nerves fill the interior of our car like a suffocating cloud, and I want him to start his day in a better headspace. We pull up to the kiss-and-drive section, and he releases his seatbelt, ready to climb out as soon as we stop.

“Hey, have an awesome day. I love you, big guy, and I can’t wait to hear all about your first day when I pick you up.” When Istop, I lean back as far as I can to plant a kiss on his cheek, but he climbs out of the car, leaving me hanging.

“Thanks, Mom. See you later.” He slams the back door and races toward the gate.

I exhale a long breath and shake my head.Where’s my baby gone? Why does he have to grow up so fast?I blink away the sting at the back of my eyes and suck in a shaky breath, then put my foot on the gas and drive out of the drop-off section, heading to work, all the while wishing Wyatt were here for this milestone.

Blinking, I swallow the lump in my throat and press my lips together to stem my emotions. I’m so tired of being an emotional wreck. I turn up the music as a distraction and direct my focus outward instead of inward; it’s something I learned at thecoping with griefgroup I attend when I’m really feeling low.

With a few minutes to spare before I need to be at work, I drive through Starbucks to grab coffee for myself and the girls. I’m sure Sophie will need one too, since James started second grade today. I take a deep breath and push my shoulders back to hide my emotions and breeze through the back door. After dropping my purse in the cupboard, I head out front, where Sophie and Lucy are already working with clients.

“Morning, ladies.”—I hold up the coffee—“I brought you guys a treat.”

Sophie shimmies and blows me a kiss as she wets my client’s hair, ready to shampoo. “Thanks, lovely!”

Lucy makes grabby hands. “Gimme, gimme, gimme!”

I chuckle at her theatrics as I deliver the drinks to the girls, setting Sophie’s at the reception desk and placing Lucy’s on the small gold table closest to her chair.

“How nervous was our boy for his first day?” Lucy asks.

She stops mid-cut, waiting for my answer, and I shrug. “He jumped out of the car before I could kiss him goodbye.” My lip trembles as I share my disappointment, but I take a deep breathto regain my composure. After years of practice, I’m a pro at pushing my tears away in public.

“James was the same. What’s wrong with these boys? Don’t they know we need momma hugs?” Sophie chuckles and I force myself to do the same.

Mrs. Davies pipes up, “I was always so grateful to send my boys off to school after summer vacation. My sanity was barely hanging on by a thread, and I was desperate for peace and quiet.” Sophie rolls her eyes as she massages her scalp, and I know exactly what she’s thinking. Mrs. Davies’ boys were probably just as happy to be at school—and away from her.

Sophie finishes up and grabs her coffee from the reception area. She’s our receptionist, and I’m not sure how we managed before she started working here a few months ago because she steps in wherever she’s needed. It feels like she’s always been part of the team. I know she won’t be here forever; she has different dreams from working in a hair salon.

The phone rings, and Sophie answers it as I lead Mrs. Davies to my chair. I run the wide-tooth comb through her shoulder-length bob and catch her eye in the large, gold-framed mirror. “What would you like done today?”

A twinkle appears in her eye, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. “I thought you could surprise me. I’m ready for a change.” She smiles broadly and sits up straighter in her chair.

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