Page 32 of Love at Teamsgiving
I have no idea what they’re talking about, only who. Junie wasn’t my first kiss. But she was my best kiss. The only one I want to kiss.
“This is going to be a hair salon?” Redd asks.
My hand drifts to my hair. I haven’t had a cut since Junie last took her scissors to it almost a year and a half ago, and it’s gotten long.
“From what I’ve heard, she’s right. You made yourself a real ladies’ man,” Pierre says.
Redd adds, “Trying to get her out of your system?”
Surfacing from my thoughts, I tell them, “We were rivals. I was best friends with her twin brother. Grew up teasing her while she always tried to keep up with the boys and prove herself.”
Grady says, “Looks like you’re the one who needs to prove himself.”
I’m not sure if he’s talking about proving myself to Junie or on the ice. Both?
I’ve never cared much about first impressions because usually, my older brothers did the dirty work for me—for better or worse. But I’m not sure what my new team makes of what I lovingly refer to as the Popovik-Cruz Four-Hundred Twenty-Five-Day War. Yes, I’m counting the days since we walked away from forever.
But they don’t bring it up again. Not when Junie and Margo return with cold drinks for everyone. They also bring some cinnamon rolls and other pastries. I wonder if Shane confessed his cinnamon bun addiction to Erica. There are probably some things I should come clean to Junie about, but my mouth remains closed for the rest of the day.
I won’t give in to temptation. Not even when it’s right in front of my face.
The next day,after a team workout, Pop announces that he and Joey are headed to the salon. Word travels fast, but fiber optic cable has nothing on the Momzilla and Queen Kong wire. Even though I’ve already broken a sweat today, that’s my father’s way of volun-telling me that I’m going to help.
Together, we made quick work of knocking the interior of this place down to the studs, hauling out all the soggy drywall, revealing a hardwood floor, and exposing some wiring that needs updating.
Ma and Mrs. Popovik appear with coffee and cookies from the Busy Bee Bakery—same place as yesterday and I have to say I’m a fan. Knowing them, they probably tried to upstage the owner and each other.
All the while, I notice how Junie tosses her hair, tips her head back when she laughs, and scowls at me out of the corner of her eye.
Eventually, Pop’s work lights fend off dusk as I sweep up the last of the dust from the floor of Junie’s new salon. Granted, it’s little more than a husk, but at least now she has a space to build her dream upon.
A few of the guys from the team drift in to check on our progress. They invite us to head over to the local pub when we’re done.
Everyone clears out, some heading to O’Neely’s Fish Bowl and others to Spaglietti’s—Grady claims they have the best pizza on the planet. I’ll be the judge of that.
Junie appears from behind the bathroom door, arms lifted in the air in surrender. Her twisted expression makes me want to chuckle.
I hold back, instead saying, “Saved the worst for last?”
She looks around the now-empty space and replies, “You might say that.”
“Don’t be angry that we made two days’ work out of what would’ve taken you at least a week, if not more. You could say thank you.”
She grunts. “I owe them big.”
“What about me?”
She looks up at me with those big brown eyes as if measuring who owes whom.
“Looks like Momzilla and Queen Kong picked up where they left off,” I say.
“They had a close encounter with Nancy Linderberg, a standard poodle disguised as a woman who should not parade around town. She’s an anti-welcoming committee. That prompted the moms to form an alliance.”
I chuckle and have hope that maybe things will work out here in Cobbiton after all.
Jaw set, she says, “But we won’t be.”
“Junie, let’s drop the temperature a bit.”
