Page 43 of Weather the Storm

“He has.”

“I feel like there’s a b-but coming.” Hopefully, I’m wrong.

“There is. It won’t be effective until he’s been served.”

“Oh.” I deflate at her words.

“Don’t fret. It’s a small town—if he’s here, they’ll find him.”

§

True to her word, Seraphine drives out to Simon’s bright and early Tuesday morning so we can carpool to work. However, since Simon has a faculty meeting after school today, she’ll also have to take me to pick my car up from Mateo’s garage.

Not gonna lie, I’m excited to get my little Honda back, even if I won’t get to drive it as much, thanks to my asshole husband. God, I hope they find him and serve him soon.

Deep down, I know it’s just a piece of paper, but still, it gives me peace of mind. Maybe it’ll show him I’m serious and he can’t control me anymore. Maybe he’ll get the hint and move on.

Or maybe this will tip the scales and send him over the ledge, the voice inside my brain taunts—the same voice that paralyzed me with fear throughout the course of our marriage, the voice that sounds oddly like my mother.

I’m prepping for my third color of the day—a new client who was referred to me, though I’m not sure by who.

I’m toting my supplies out to my station right as Seraphine walks my client back. “Magnolia, this here’s Mary Katherine.” Her name gives me pause, because one of the many women Grant cheated with was named Mary Katherine. I accidentally saw some of their texts once, and…Stop being silly! You’re in the South—Mary Katherine is a very common name. Breathe and act like a freaking professional, Magnolia!

Extending my hand to her, I say, “H-hey there, I’m M-Magnolia. You can have a seat here.” I gesture toward my chair. “And we can chat a little bit about what you’re wanting to accomplish t-today.”

Seraphine turns and walks back to the front desk, leaving Mary Katherine and me alone—well, not totally alone as Myla Rose and Azalea are both busy at their stations with clients of their own.

Once Mary Katherine sits, I pivot the chair to face the mirror, running my hands through her long, tawny-brown hair. “So, did you b-bring any pictures or anything?”

“Actually, I did.” She fishes her phone out of her purse and toggles open her gallery. All of the pictures she shows me are fairly similar. “I really like this sombré look—or maybe it’s balayage?” Mary Katherine tilts her head to look at me, her perfectly sculpted brow raised in question.

I smile a small, private smile—I may not be comfortable in the real world, but this? Hair? It’s my domain, my safe haven.

“Sombré is a subtle color transition. I typically try to keep the base and ends within two levels of one another. So, with your base being a warm level six, I would take your ends to a really pretty caramel color. Balayage isn’t actually a look, it’s a method. It means the highlights are hand-painted to create a soft, natural look.”

Mary Katherine contemplates my words. “Okay, yeah. I like that, and I know my man will like it, too.”

“Oh, that’s g-good.”

“Yeah, Eddie will love it. He’s so sweet, paying for me to come get pampered today!” Once again, her words have rendered me immobile.Eddie…Grant’s middle name is Edward. Surely this is all coincidental, and I’m just being paranoid. Yeah, that must be it.

I make quick work of sectioning her hair into five deep V-shaped sections and begin painting the lightener onto the hair near her face first. I saturate the ends and feather the product up to create the subtle color transition she’s looking for. I lay each painted section onto a sheet of cling wrap before moving to the next, shifting around the head from left to right and front to back until I’m satisfied.

“Okay,” I say to Mary Katherine as I peel off my gloves. “I’m g-gonna let you pro-process. I’ll check on you every t-ten minutes until we reach the desired level. Would you like some w-water?”

“Water would be amazing,” Mary Katherine replies, dragging out the last word.

I quickly set my timer and grab her a bottle of water. To kill time while waiting, I situate myself at a chair in the dispensary, pull out my phone, and fire off a text to Simon, even though I doubt he’ll be able to check it.

Magnolia: Just wanted to say I love you!

Not expecting a reply, my phone slips from my grasp when it vibrates in my hands.

Simon: Love you too, pretty girl.

Magnolia: Shouldn’t you be busy shaping young minds?

Simon: I’m never too busy for you. Also, they’re taking a test.

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