Page 19 of The Caretaker
“Are you sure you can do this?” I eyed the scissors in Solace’s hands as he drew closer. He’d asked if he could cut my hair after our talk in the living room, and I’d responded with an emphatic no before striding for the kitchen. He’d worn me down over breakfast, though.
“I used to trim Gavin’s hair all the time,” he said, as if that would make me feel better.
“My hair’s a little more challenging than his. You can’t really go wrong cutting a head full of curls. What I’ve got going is a mishmash of textures. You’ve got to be an expert to get this right.”
Solace shrugged. “What’s the worst that can happen? It’s hair. It’ll grow back.”
“Well, when you put it that way,” I said, giving in and getting comfortable in the seat he’d dragged over from the breakfast table. I caved because of the sweet thrill shining in his eyes, but he didn’t need to know that.
He wrapped a towel over my shoulders before sectioning my hair, stopping to touch the raised scar where the hair grew thinner.
“Where were you both headed?”
“Home. I think. I’d picked her up from the airport. She’d been gone for three months on a humanitarian trip. After all that time apart, I must have been beyond happy to see her,” I said reflectively. “I often create stories in my head about what our reunion must have been like. They all start with her running into my arms and me kissing her in the middle of the airport baggage claim. Letting my imagination run wild helps, believe it or not.”
Solace didn’t answer as he continued to prep me for the haircut. I was glad for it. I needed a break from missing her.
“No swimming pool?” I asked, staring into the backyard. There was more than enough room for one.
“No swimming pool,” he said without further explanation before he got started.
I was afraid to speak as he worked. I didn’t want to steal an ounce of his focus away, but not talking meant I was stuck inhaling his scent of cedarwood and sage and then having to think about how that scent made me feel. Risking a botched haircut seemed safer.
“Why were you so upset when I bumped into you at the tavern?” I asked. He paused to ponder my question, maybe deciding if he’d even answer it.
“I go there a lot.” He worked as he spoke. “Each time I go, I tell myself it’ll be the last time, but then I find myself back there again. Waiting again,” he murmured. “Being there brings back memories.”
“Of the guy you lost?” I hedged, wondering how anyone could walk away from Solace. It couldn’t have been willingly.
“Yeah. We were supposed to meet there a while ago, but he never showed.”
“He stood you up?”
“You could say that,” he answered noncommittally. “You sound offended on my behalf.”
“I am. I’m gonna track him down after the haircut,” I joked.
“It wasn’t his fault,” he whispered. “The universe had other plans for us.”
“You loved him,” I said gently.
“With all of me. He came into my life at a time when I had both feet off the ledge. He caught me as I was falling.”
It felt wrong for me to experience the raw, palpable love in his tone. It felt like the love that filled every fiber of my body, the one I associated with Stacey. “Maybe you’ll find each other again, work things out. Maybe it can be like it used to be.” My body tensed, as if rejecting the idea, even while I wanted nothing more than for him to be happy, whatever that looked like, whatever it meant.
“I used to want that more than anything,” he said, coming around to work on the front of my hair. His tongue peeked through the corner of his mouth as he concentrated on the task. Another thing to add to the list of what made him adorable.
“And now what do you want?”
“A second chance,” he said, now looking at me directly. “It doesn’t need to be the same, doesn’t need to be exactly as it used to be. I’d settle for a second chance at loving him. At being loved by him. In fact, it wouldn’t be settling at all.”
My heart constricted as his words worked their way through me, as they made me consider another possibility. Could I move forward without regaining what I’d be leaving behind? I’d been searching for a second chance at my past, and now I wondered if a second chance at life, at love, would be even better. Solace made me consider it. I had a feeling he could make me consider anything.
“All done,” he said with pride, brandishing a handheld mirror in front of me.
“Not bad.” I accepted the mirror from him. The sides were short but not shorn, and he’d left the top long enough to comb back.
“Not bad?” he scoffed. “You look handsome.”
