She looked up at Luke. "Can I?"
"Sure," Luke promised. "And we'll find out a time that works for your mom every week so Cy can put you on a schedule. How's that sound?"
"Usually Wednesdays," she said. "Mom helps with the youth group stuff that day, so she has to leave early, and then I'm home with Brody." Faith hoarked dramatically, making it clear what she thought about that.
"Then we'll plan for Wednesdays starting next week," Cy promised.
"I have to feed the cows at sundown," Luke reminded him. "Means I need to start by six most days."
"I can always take her home," I offered.
"Or I can," Cy said. "Or she can stay until you're done. We'll play it by ear." Then he smiled at Faith. "Bring a bathing suit and we can swim."
"Means we should do some shopping while we're in town," Ash said as he turned into a little shop tucked behind a restaurant. "And we're here."
The group of us piled out and headed in. The salon wasn't the biggest, but it looked nice. I recognized most of the brands offered for sale in the rack at the front. The equipment looked top of the line, and the best part was that the four girls working in there all had beautiful hair. Completely different styles, but none of it was frizzy, over-processed, or poorly cut.
"Can I help you?" a woman said, making her way over.
Ash stepped up. "I made an appointment for the herd of us. I've got a color, cuts for all of us, and a few waxes."
"Right." She opened a book and trailed her finger down the page. "Well, I can start one of the waxes. I think we have a full chest?"
"That's me," Cy said.
"And we'll get to the rest of you in just a second," the lady assured us. Then she led Cy to the back.
"What's that mean?" Faith asked. "Waxing?"
"Like shaving," I explained, "but better and lasts longer."
"But on his chest?"
I nodded. "Those ads you see in magazines? Where the man has his shirt off and no hair? That's how they do it. Guys have to work to be pretty just like girls."
"But Dad doesn't do that," she said.
"And women don'thave toeither," I assured her. "Some of us like the way we look with a little primping; others don't want to mess with it. There's no right answer. It just depends on what works for you, and that doesn't have to be the same as what works for me."
"Did the young lady want her hair cut?" one of the stylists asked.
"Yes!" Faith said. "I want to look like her!"
I laughed at her. "Already do." But I stood, catching Luke's eye to make sure he was ok with me handling this. When he nodded, I followed her back. "She says she wants to do something with her hair. I was thinking long layers at the end, a little framing around her face, and some caramel highlights for accents?"
"How strong?" she asked, proving this woman knew what she was talking about.
"Soft," I assured her. "Like she's spent a little time in the sun. Just enough to bring out her cheekbones through here."
The stylist smiled at me. "You do hair?"
"Nope."
One of the other girls turned away from her client. "Are you the Risqué Lingerie woman?"
From the chairs at the front, Ash laughed. "She is. You should check out her pictures in the fall catalogue. We're going to have a big sale. Fifty percent off daily wear."
The woman working on Faith's hair gasped. "Oh my god." Then she hurried toward the back of the shop to grab something. It was a magazine, and she walked back showing it to the others. "Ashton Walker, owner and CEO of Risqué Lingerie!"
