Page 76 of Home Sweet Home

“How do you always know? And use your inside voice, or they’re gonna hear you.”

“You turned a shade of red never before seen by the human eye,” Kayla said with a grin. “Even Pantone has never seen that color. And don’t worry about Polly. That thing is like a wind tunnel. She can’t hear a goddamn thing.”

“And your extremely impressionable seven-year-old?”

Kayla shrugged. “She’s watchingDoc McStuffins. It’s like kid catnip.” Kayla swiveled on her stool toward Ryleigh. “Ryleigh, want to get ice cream?” Ryleigh didn’t move, her body as still as a sculpture, eyes wide and focused on the screen. “See? Now spill.”

Evie told her everything in the lowest voice she could manage, because no matter what Kayla said, she didn’t want Ryleigh or Polly hearing. She tried to be vague, but Kayla had a way of pulling the specifics out of her, and by the time she’d finished, Kayla was fanning herself with a magazine.

“Damn,” Kayla said. “Homeboy’s got skills.”

Evie opened her mouth to agree, but then she remembered the rest, the conversation afterward and the timer counting down the seconds until he was gone, and the warm feeling she’d carried around with her all day dissolved like sugar in hot water.

“I shouldn’t have slept with him,” Evie said.

“Why not? You’re both adults, you like each other, and you had fun.”

“It’s gonna make it harder.”

Kayla’s brows pulled down toward the spot at the top of her nose.

When Evie spoke, her voice was a whisper. “I don’t want him to leave.”

“Have you told him that?”

Evie shook her head. “It’s not that simple.”

“It’s six words, and you literally just said them. Change the ‘him’ to ‘you,’ and you’re good. Dude hasmanytalents”—Kayla waggled her eyebrows—“but mind reading isn’t one of them. You need to tell him what you want. That’s how relationships work.”

The wordrelationshipthrew Evie off, like it was the wrong way to describe it. “What if he doesn’t want the same thing?”

Kayla shrugged as though Evie had just asked her what she wanted for lunch. “Then he’s not right for you.”

“I don’t think I could handle it.”

“One.” She snapped one finger in the air, the light glinting off her lime-green nail polish. “You can handle it because you’re enough, and what he thinks about the subject doesn’t change that. Two.” Another finger snapped up. “You’re focusing a lot on him saying no, but what if he says yes?”

As Evie thought of the anxiety that had swelled within her the night before as she’d thought about saying those words to West, she realized she hadn’t allowed herself to consider it. But Kayla’s words gave her pause. It was hard to imagine a world in which she got what she wanted, that all she had to do was ask for it, but what if it really was that easy?

The door to the salon opened, and a familiar face walked in.

“Gloria told me you’d opened this place, Kayla,” Mrs. Jenkins said, fanning herself with a folder, her gray curls frizzing out around her head in a halo, as she looked around the salon. “I had to stop by and see for myself. Gotta say, I’m very happy not to have to make the drive to Bend anymore to tame this lion’s mane. Any way you can squeeze me in?”

Kayla grinned, getting up from her seat. “Of course. Have a seat here next to Evie, and just give me ten minutes to check on Polly’s highlights.”

As Kayla left, Mrs. Jenkins took a seat next to Evie.

“Hi,” Evie said.

Mrs. Jenkins gave her a wide smile, her front teeth still crooked as they had been for as long as Evie could remember. “Hello there, Evie.”

Mrs. Jenkins had been Evie’s English teacher her senior year of high school. She’d written Evie’s college recommendation letter, helped Evie write her essay, and generally encouraged Evie in all aspects of her life. It wasn’t the first time Evie had run into Mrs. Jenkins since she’d left school, but each time, it felt awkward. The knowledge of what she’d given up always hung over their heads.

“How’s your summer break going?” Evie asked, trying to make conversation while she waited for Kayla to come back.

“Wonderful,” Mrs. Jenkins said, nodding. “I’m recharging the old batteries before I have to teach Fitzgerald to a new crop of rascals in August.” She paused, before adding, “How’s Josh doing?”

Mrs. Jenkins’s expression had shifted, her smile warping into pointed concern, and Evie knew she hadn’t asked the question casually.

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