Page 3 of Reaching Roland

In the mirror, I saw him squeeze his eyes shut tightly. “Except for when I was little, the only person who ever washed my hair for me was Rhonda, my wife. Since she's been gone…” His body shuddered. “I don't know. It feels like something special that was between us.”

Damn. What did I say to that? I hadn’t meant to poke his pain. The man had just told me this was the highlight of his week,and I’d made it weird. “I’m sorry for your loss. She must’ve been special.”

He met my gaze in the mirror. “Honestly, she was the best. I don’t know how I got so damn lucky.”

Considering I thought he was pretty amazing, and his sons and their friends all thought he walked on water, I didn’t think luck had a whole lot to do with it. Since the only colorist working was on the opposite corner, and most of the other employees still here were upfront or in the balcony area above, I asked, “Would you like to tell me about her? You don’t have to, but I’m a good listener.”

He cocked his head. “Really?”

Planting both hands on his shoulders, I squeezed. “Absolutely. Instead of listening to me babble, tell me how you met. I want to hear the story of your great romance.”

He huffed, but his blue orbs softened as he began to speak as I worked on his hair. Slowly, haltingly at first, he told me about their teenage romance that developed and blossomed into true adult love. Like an epic love story straight out of a romance novel. A small smile played at the edges of his mouth as he spoke about his son, Cameron, how much they’d wanted him, and how devastated they’d been when they realized that giving him a sibling wasn’t in the cards for them. He hesitated there, like his mind had traveled back in time.

“What was she like?” I prompted, done with his hair but eager to hear more about this woman who’d elicited so much love from this big man that he still clung to her memory like a life raft all these years later without moving on.

“Rhonda…” He huffed, shaking his head. There was so much reverence in his tone that I found myself swallowing back emotion. I didn’t even know her, but the way he whispered her name made me mourn the missed opportunity. He visibly swallowed, then sniffed, before continuing in a stronger voice. “Rhonda was special. Even when we were younger, she loved so hard. She wasn’t catty or bitchy like so many of the other girls.” He grinned. “Not saying us guys were any better. Let’s face it, teenagers are all a jumble of hormones and insecurity with a false sense of maturity. But she overlooked that. Our friend group was strong because she was the center of it. Not that she’d ever have admitted that. She was humble. Don’t get me wrong, though. Her brand of love could have a bite.”

He barked out a laugh. “And she was bull-headed. The woman knew what she wanted, and she didn’t back down. If it had been up to me, we probably wouldn’t have married right out of high school. I’d have waited another ten years because I was so damn scared I wouldn’t be able to provide for her the way she deserved, but nope. Rhonda wouldn’t have it. She said we were a team, and it wasn’t all on me to figure it out, anyway. We’d do it together. And we did.”

I swallowed back the lump in my throat. Pissed at myself for the green-eyed jealous devil inside me who bemoaned that no one had ever spoken about me that way, loved me that hard. How did that even feel? “She sounds like a beautiful person.”

He smiled tightly. “I didn’t have her for long enough, but I cherish every minute we had together before she passed. Not everyone meets their soulmate, and I was lucky enough to have mine by my side for over half her life.”

Since it was time to shave him, and I wanted him to relax without being locked in his head, I said, “Okay, Daddy, answer another question,” as I tilted his chair back.

The skin around his eyes immediately crinkled with amusement like I’d hoped. “You and this Daddy. Maybe I should give you a nickname since you won’t give that a rest.”

I shrugged one shoulder and waggled my eyebrows. “Maybe you should…Daddy,” I ended on a whisper.

Roland barked out a laugh. “I’ll have to think about that. So what’s your question?”

He liked an old-fashioned straight cut, so as I lathered him up, I asked, “What do you do for fun these days?”

He snorted dryly. “I’m old now, Kenny. My days of running with the old gang are over after…” He trailed off for a second, but I was friends with his kids and had an idea of the fuckery that had gone down with his chosen son, Indie. After clearing his throat, he continued, “So I spend a lot of time in my workshop in the garage, restoring old furniture or helping out some of the elderly over at Takoda’s Senior Housing South.”

That sounded… awful. Like I’d told Michaela and Austin, there wasn’t anything ancient and decrepit about Roland. He was in good shape, not just for his age, but for a man of any age. He was definitely easy on the eyes, and I enjoyed his company. They weren’t wrong in accusing me of treating him a little special. But he was, and he needed to get back out there and live. Since I wasn’t sure how to convey it, and it really wasn’t my place anyway, I huffed out a puff of air. “Well then, old man. How about you close your eyes and lay back and enjoy your shave.”

After I was done, as he stood up, Roland smiled at me softly. “Thank you for letting me drone on and on about my wife today, Kenny. You really are a good listener.”

“It was my pleasure.” And it was. I’d always wanted what he’d had with his wife, but so far, it hadn’t been in the cards for me. Most of the time, when I was with my friends or saw happy couples, I fought to suppress twinges of jealousy, but it made me happy to see that sappy expression on his face while he spoke about the love of his life. She’d died too young, and they’d deserved all the happiness.

His gaze dropped down, and he pointed at my purple combat boots. “But you still have crappy taste in shoes. You’re on your feet all day. Take it from me, you want to invest in some proper footwear, or your feet are going to give you hell when you’re older.”

I’d received the same lecture weekly since his second or third visit. “Yeah, yeah.” I waved him off. “And you know this because you’re so old and wise, I know. You don’t have to keep reminding me.”

“Apparently, I do.” He smirked. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep saying it until you listen.” Then he turned and strolled toward the front with a, “See you next week.”

I watched his tall, delicious body, with strong, broad shoulders that looked like they could carry the world, and hoped that the next week passed quickly.

Chapter Two

ROLAND

Kenny pulled aBlow Popout of his mouth as I approached his workstation. “Hello, Daddy.”

The day behind me fell away at his teasing greeting. His little bit of ridiculousness had become the highlight of my week. It wasn't that I hated my job or my life in any way, but Kenny was bright and happy, and it lightened something in me just being in his presence. The cut and shave didn't hurt either, but really, it was the sparkling young man who drew me back to the salon for a weekly appointment. “Are you ever going to stop calling me that?”

“Now where would the fun be in that?” He pointed toward the hook, and I obediently shook off my suit jacket, which I’d forgotten to leave in the car in my haste to get inside. The weather was changing, getting warmer, and it had become an unnecessary accessory once I left the office for the day. We went through the rest of our routine, and I settled into the comfortable chair in front of the mirror.

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