Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71303 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71303 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
His eyes brightened before he narrowed them. “What’s the catch?”
“No catch. It would be good practice for me in case a job opportunity arises.”
“Is that man with the dog helping you out?”
“Uh-huh…he’s a friend. So I thought I’d pay it forward.” I fidgeted a little, that guilt returning. “What do you say?”
“I’m game if you are.” He stood and threw his wrapper in the nearby trash can. “Where do you want me?”
I looked around, my eye catching on an overturned construction barrel. “How about sitting on that thing?”
He got himself situated while I pulled the supplies out of my bag.
He washed his hair using the shampoo and water bottle, and then I got to work cutting off his coarse, tangled tufts. I also trimmed his beard, then pulled out a hand mirror and disposable razor so he could shave himself.
“How do you feel?” I asked as he stared at his reflection.
“Like a new person.”
My heart felt full, like I’d done something decent and good.
“Can I be next?” a lady asked from behind me, and when I looked over my shoulder, a line had formed. I could scarcely believe my eyes.
“I’ll try my best, but my hands are messed up, so I don’t know how far I’ll get,” I said to the others. “They don’t hurt that bad yet, so I’ll keep going for now.”
“If you run out of steam, can I at least wash my hair?” asked a familiar young man. Unfortunately, he was addicted to drugs, though I didn’t know what kind. But I recognized the tremor in his hands.
“Absolutely.”
A lady with bushy red hair rolled up with a grocery cart and stood talking to someone in line. She collected scraps and traded them in for cash, which was a smart idea. But the cart was sometimes hard to push when it was overloaded, and one time I’d helped her get over a curb in the snow.
“Did you hear there was another attack?” she told the others in line, and my hand clenched around the comb. “Sprayed in the eyes outside the casino on Public Square.”
I felt sick to my stomach as they discussed the harrowing event, and when my eyes met Darius’s, who was listening avidly from beside her, he frowned and shook his head.
Soon enough, they moved on to the weather report, but it was hard to shake the news that there had been another victim.
I was able to cut four more heads of hair before my hand felt swollen and stiff. The others in line were just grateful to use my shampoo, and one even borrowed my shears to hack away at their own hair under my supervision. I helped the lady straighten her bangs when she got a little too scissor-happy.
“Well, I’m on borrowed time here, so I have to get back,” I said, beginning to clean my supplies.
“Will you come again?” one of them asked.
My stomach felt all wobbly, but I didn’t want to make any promises. “I’ll try.”
On my way to the grocery store, the world around me seemed richer, more resonant than it had in a long while, simply because I helped some people down on their luck feel more human again.
My head was swirling with so many thoughts between the haircuts and the assault, that being inside the crowded store didn’t register much. I made quick work of getting the items from Foster’s list, then trekked back to his apartment.
When I came through the door, Foster was sitting up, looking a bit less worse for wear. Oscar greeted me as I set the bags on the counter.
“I got your note. You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to.” I opened the fridge and started putting stuff away. “How about I make dinner soon?”
“Sure,” he replied around a yawn. “But we could also order in.”
“Nah, I feel like cooking.”
When our eyes met across the room, the corners of his lips tilted upward.
I opened the cupboard near the sink. “Need water. Want some?”
He rubbed at his eyes. “Please.”
I filled two glasses with ice water and padded over to hand him one. “I also went on another errand while I was out.”
“Yeah?” he asked after downing half the glass.
I nodded. “I visited the houseless under the bridge, and I…cut their hair.”
“Did you really?” He set his glass down and reached for my hand, pulling me toward him. “That’s amazing!”
Setting my glass aside, I easily fell into his arms, my face at his neck as I inhaled his spicy scent. “It felt pretty darn good. I know I wasn’t paid, and I need to keep applying for jobs, but…”
“No, don’t do that.” He rubbed circles on my back. “That was more important. We only placed parameters on our living arrangement because that’s what I thought you needed.”
“I did need it.” I drew away to look at him. “I don’t want to impose or get in the habit of—”