Page 13 of Unhurried Hearts

She raises a darkened brow like she’s taking stock of my appearance. Admittedly, I’m not looking that appealing. My army green t-shirt has a grease spot from working with Dad and my khaki shorts could use an iron. I regret the choice to not go home and change.

“Hey, Anna?” The receptionist turns her head over her shoulder and hollers.

My heart jolts and my dishevelled state becomes exponentially more embarrassing. A heavy velvet curtain next to a set of sinks parts and Anna’s face appears between the fabric panels. Her eyes track from the girl in the apron to me and her mouth pops open in surprise. The curtain falls back into place, blocking her from view. Iyank off my hat, wondering if she’s going to come back out or if she’s wishing she never offered to do my hair. But the curtain opens again, and she makes her way to the front desk with all the confidence of a successful businesswoman. Tight black jeans and boots with low heels, a black top that is so close to slipping off one shoulder. The outfit issodifferent from the one she wore at Isaac’s place. It makes me wonder which one makes her more comfortable. Which one is moreher.

“I’ll handle this, Jenny.”

Handle this? Like I’m some sort of problem?

“Sure.” She shrugs, handing Anna a pencil with a fluffy pom pom on top.

Anna opens a massive scheduling book, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I didn’t think you’d actually come.”

I note that she hasn’t looked me in the eye yet, and I don’t miss the titch of pink that blooms over her cheeks and nose.

“I said I would.”

Does she think I’m that unreliable?

“Let’s see…” she scans the book. “I can fit you in a week from Thursday.”

“NextThursday?” I raise my eyebrows.

“Is that a problem?” She finally turns her hazel eyes up from the paper.

She’s trying, and failing, to prevent a smirk. Those eyes shine with amusement and it lights me up inside.

“I’ll look again.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

Her glossy fingernail meanders down the page, making a show of turning a page ahead, then back.

I lean my elbows on the glass, “Are you busy right now?” I give her my best pleading look.

“Right now?” Her voice is high.

“If you won’t take him I will,” says another of Anna’s coworkers while she puts what looks like tinfoil in someone’s hair.

Anna shoots her a look as sharp as her scissors.

I gesture to one of the empty hairdressing chairs, the one I assume is hers because of flowers on the narrow live-edge wood shelf below the mirror. It’s the type of bright, wild looking bouquet that Ashlyn makes.

“Can you do it right now?”

“Technically, yes, but-”

“Great, because Itechnicallyneed my hair cut right now.”

I reach her chair in a few strides and plop myself down without waiting for an invitation. I toss my hat on thecounter next to the glass container of Barbicide and a plethora of corded mystery tools. Polaroids are taped neatly along the edges of the large rectangular mirror in front of me. One shot features a very youthful looking Anna and Ashlyn at an airport departure gate, arms around each other and grins on their faces. Watching her in the mirror, she tightens her already perfect ponytail as she walks to join me. She kicks the pedal on the bottom of the chair, and I’m lowered abruptly with a loud clunk.

“Don’t usually have someone so tall in my chair.”

I resist the urge to inhale and sit up taller.

“May I?” Her hands hover over my shoulders.

When I nod stiffly, she runs her fingers from the nape of my neck to the crown of my head. I let out my breath at the contact, pressing my lips together and working to keep my heartbeat steady as she examines my head of hair. While she’s busy examining my hair, I’m taking the time to notice the soft swoop of her nose, her cheekbones, and almost-almond shape of her eyes. Features I should have catalogued before because they make a very pretty picture.

---