JENNIE
"Where are we going?" I asked Lisa as we left Richmond in the rearview mirror.
"Are we going shopping?" Eleanor asked hopefully from the backseat.
She'd taken the news that we were temporarily moving into Leila J's well. Of course, I'd flat-out lied to her, telling her there was a bug problem at the cottage and that we'd be staying with everyone at Leila's for a few days. Eleanor was thrilled for the extended sleepover.
My parents, on the other hand, were struggling. Not with having us all under one roof. That part had them in near ecstasy. But Lisa had insisted I spill the truth. The whole truth, beginning with why I'd run out on Mino.
While my mother wrote a strongly worded message to Mino's mother on Facebook at four a.m., Lisa had to physically restrain my father from leaving to go after Mino.
Dad calmed down considerably after Bogum assured him that Lisa had not only mopped the floor with Mino, she'd also broken the man's nose.
The truth hurt, as I'd expected it to, which was why I hadn't shared in the first place. But my parents had stood up under its weight.
Over Mom's anxiety pancakes, we'd talked until nearly five a.m. before I'd fallen into bed with Lisa in her childhood bedroom. I was certain I'd never be able to sleep, but with her heavy arm anchoring me to her side, I'd fallen into a dreamless oblivion and stayed there until ten.
When I woke up, I was alone because Lisa had driven into town to pick up Eleanor from her sleepover.
I'd taken my gigantic vat of coffee on the front porch and waited for them, thinking about how Lisa just kept blurring the lines of our agreement. And when they returned, when Lisa put her hand on top of Eleanor's blonde head, ruffled her hair, and gave her an affectionate shove.
I realized just how blurry those lines in my heart were getting. I was in trouble. And it had nothing to do with a break-in or a criminal sister or an ex-fiancé.
I was falling for the one I'd sworn I wouldn't. But Lisa made it impossible not to. She made it inevitable.
Unfortunately, at that moment, the caseworker had shown up ready to do the home study that I'd completely forgotten about. I was not imagining the look of surprise on Mrs. Suarez's face when I tried to herd Eleanor's into Leila's house while issuing a vague excuse as to why we were unprepared for her visit.
Thankfully, Lisa had stepped in once again, ordering Eleanor into the kitchen to get us coffees for the road. When she was out of earshot, she was the one who explained the situation to Mrs. Suarez.
I did not have a good feeling about what this meant for the custody hearing.
"We're not going shopping," Lisa told Eleanor as she took the on-ramp for the highway.
"What's all the stuff in the back for?" Eleanor asked.
Between freaking out over what our caseworker thought of me allowing multiple break-ins to happen, I was curious too. Before she'd closed the cover over the truck bed, we'd spotted more than a dozen shopping bags.
"Supplies," she said mysteriously.
Her phone rang, and I saw Bambam's name on the screen.
"Yeah," Lisa said by way of a greeting.
The woman was not one for small talk.
"We'll be there in about forty-five," she said into the phone. "Yeah. See you there."
"There" turned out to be Hannah's Place, a homeless shelter on the outskirts of Washington, D.C.
It was a newer brick building on a large fenced lot. Lisa pulled the truck through the gate and swung it around toward the entrance, where I saw Bambam standing under an awning.
"The second string has arrived," Bamban said with a grin as we piled out. "Great 'do, Ellie."
Eleanor proudly patted a hand to the little French braid she'd worked around her head like a crown. "Thanks."
The woman beside Bamban was short, stocky, and very, very brave because she charged right on up to Lisa and wrapped her in a hard hug.
"There's my second favorite barber," she said.
Lisa hugged her back. "How did I lose the top spot this time?"
She leaned back and grinned wickedly. "Bam brought me two hundred rolls of toilet paper."
"We'll see how you feel about me after you see what I brought," Lisa said.
"I see you brought me two new volunteers," she said.
"Shirley, meet Jennie and Eleanor," Lisa said. "Shirley left a seven-figure corporate gig to run this shelter."
"Who needs boardrooms and corner offices when you can spend your days doing good?" Shirley said, shaking my hand and then Eleanor's.
"It's so nice to meet you," I said.
"Likewise. Especially if you've got two working hands and don't mind stocking shelves and packing boxes."
"Ready and able," I said, elbowing Eleanor, who was looking a little morose.
"Put 'em where you want 'em," Lisa said. "I'll set up shop, and we can get started."
Eleanor and I followed Shirley as she led the way inside.
"I'd rather be shopping," Eleanor whispered to me.
"Maybe we can find a mall afterwards," I said, giving her shoulders a squeeze.
One thing was for sure—Lisa Manoban was full of surprises.
"I guess it's kinda cool they do this," Eleanor said as we watched Lisa and Bambam run their makeshift outdoor salon through the tall windows.
While we had spent two hours sorting food and clothing donations with other volunteers, Lisa and Bambam had entertained an endless stream of shelter residents in their chairs under the awning on the sidewalk.
It was a beautiful day edging toward fall, and the mood was festive.
The staff, volunteers, and residents had formed a kind of large, unruly family making something as bleak as homelessness feel like a challenge to be conquered. Not a stigma to be reinforced.
Together, Lisa and Bambam transformed ignored, unruly, disheveled hair into sleek, stylish looks. And in doing so, I realized they were also changing the way each client saw themselves.
Currently, Bambam was working a hand razor over a little boy's dark hair keeping him in an almost constant state of giggles. The man in Lisa's chair had sat down with a long, scraggly beard and wispy gray hair. His tan face was deeply lined, his thin shoulders stooped. He wore clean sweatpants and a long-sleeved t-shirt, both a few sizes too big.
His eyes were closed in what looked like a moment of unguarded bliss as Lisa draped a hot towel over his face and readied her shaving supplies.
"Yeah. Kinda cool," I agreed, stroking a hand over Eleanor's hair.
"Those two have been doing this once a month for years," Shirley said, appearing next to me. "Our residents get a kick out of having $200 haircuts, and it sure changes the way other people see them. We consider ourselves pretty dang lucky to have caught Lisa Manoban's attention with our work here."
I wondered if she had her name on this building too. And if she did, did it bother her less than the police station?
I watched her remove the towel with a flourish, making the man in his chair grin.
--
"Grabbed you a coffee."
A huge to-go cup materialized before my eyes as I straightened from the table where I was folding t-shirts.
Lisa stood there, holding a second, smaller cup with the kind of look in her eyes that made my heart somersault in my chest.
The woman had played hero to two dozen people today—not counting me—and then she'd run out to grab me a cauldron of coffee.
It hit me like a warm, glowing wave that swept my feet out from under me."Thanks," I said, going misty-eyed.
"The fuck, Daze?"
Of course she noticed I was about to cry over caffeine. Because she noticed everything.
"Baby, what's wrong? Someone say something to you?" She was glaring through the window as if looking for someone to blame.
"No!" I assured her. "I'm just… This is…amazing, Lisa. You know that, right?"
"It's a haircut, Jennie," she said dryly.
I shook my head. As a woman, I inherently understood that a haircut was rarely just a haircut. "No. It's more than that. You're changing the way the world sees each one of these people. And you're changing the way they feel about themselves."
"Shut up," she said gruffly. But the corner of her mouth lifted, and then she was plucking the coffee out of my hands, putting it on the table next to the stack of shirts, and pulling me into her chest.
"You shut up," I said, planting my hands on her shoulders.
"Where's Ellie?" she asked, those blue eyes searching for her.
Damn it.
That stupid golden glow was back and threatening to burst out of my chest. The woman had spent the day giving homeless men and women haircuts. Then she'd brought me coffee and was now on alert, making sure Eleanor was safe. She was as protective of her as she was me.
I was a goner.
"She's over there with Shirley," I said, pointing in the direction of the playground where Eleanor was pushing a little girl on the swings while Shirley led some kind of game.
Eleanor spotted us watching her and waved.
I waved back, that glow in my chest refusing to budge now.
I needed to get out of here. Away from those strong arms so I could remind myself why we wouldn't work. Why we weren't really together. Because Lisa didn't want to be. Because when it came down to it, no one ever really chose me.
That mean little voice did the trick, popping my pretty little balloon of hope like a dart.
Lisa tensed against me, her hold tightening.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
"Got yourself a girl, Lisa?" a thin, reedy voice asked.
I turned in her arms to see the man who'd been in Lisa's chair earlier.
Now rather than looking like a lost soul, he looked years younger. A silver fox with his hair cut short and swept back from his face. His beard lay neat and gray along his strong jawline.
Lisa's arms tightened around me, holding my back to her front.
"Two actually," I said with a smile, pointing over to where Eleanor was giggling at something a boy her age said.
"Pretty," the man said. "Just like her mama."
Technically, I could have corrected him. But since Eleanor's mom was my identical twin, I decided to just pocket it as the compliment it was intended. "Thank you," I said.
"Aren't ya gonna introduce us?" the man asked Lisa as he scratched at his forearm. There was a subtle unsteadiness to his movements.
There were a few beats of awkward silence, which I was compelled to interrupt.
"I'm Jennie," I said, holding a hand out to the man.
"Jennie," he repeated. "I'm—"
"This is Duke," Lisa interrupted.
Duke nodded, looking down at his feet for a second.
"It's nice to meet you, Duke," I said, my hand still extended.
"Then the pleasure is mine," he said finally. He accepted my hand, his palm rough and warm against mine. He had striking eyes the color of sterling silver.
"Take good care of 'em, Lisa," he said finally.
Lisa grunted in response and pulled me back a step, my hand sliding out of Duke's. The man shuffled off in the direction of the big commercial kitchen.
"We're leavin'," Lisa announced. "Go get Ellie."
Something had crawled up Lisa's ass. Good. It would keep me from falling head over heels for the woman.
Wordlessly, I picked up the coffee she'd brought me and headed outside to collect Eleanor.
I coaxed her off the playground, telling her that it was time to go home.
As we were saying our good-byes, I spotted Lisa by the truck with Duke.
She was handing over a backpack that looked as though it was stuffed full. They were having some kind of discussion that looked intense. Duke kept nodding while looking at his feet and scratching absently at his arms.
He didn't look up until Lisa held out a white envelope and said something.
"Who's Lisa talking to?" Eleanor asked.
"A man named Duke. She cut his hair earlier."
"Is everything okay?"
I didn't know if she meant for Lisa or Duke. "I don't know, honey."