“Really?”
I shrugged, my arms full of clothes. “Really, really.”
She squealed, grabbing my elbow and towing me farther inside the store. Several hours, countless hundreds of dollars later, we strolled farther down the street. Madeline was sandwiched between Church, who turned out to be quite an entertaining shopping partner, and me as we neared our final stop.
I groaned. “Can’t we just do a barber? This place looks over-the-top expensive.”
Madeline appeared to not hear me, rubbing her hands together with gusto. “Okay, so here we go, the final step.” That was all the warning I was given before we tumbled into the sleek, freshly scented salon. Madeline guided me straight to the reception desk.
“Neal Crowe, I’d like you to meet Zach, Church’s husband. He owns the whole salon.”
An attractive redhead, slender and smiling, approached. I shook the man’s hand, reaffirming the introduction before Zach stepped around me to press a kiss to Church's stern-looking jawline.
“It’s a pleasure to help, Mr. Crowe. When JR told me about what happened to you and Penny—well, I’m just so grateful to hear you’re feeling better.”
“Me too, I guess,” I said, feeling the iron-clad grip of the salon owner as he ushered me back towards his chair.
Flipping a black liner over me, Zach caught my horrified look in the mirror and grinned widely. “You leave the rest of this to us. We’re going to get you all set up, hero-style.”
“I’m no hero.” I stated dryly.
Zach looked at me sharply. “Whatever you say, Mr. Crowe.”
And so, I was brought into the strange inner workings of the Madeline Media family, sitting in the styling chair for well over an hour as I was trimmed, shaved, styled, and polished from a variety of hands and voices. Madeline was there, answering some questions about her most popular video blogging channel that she still ran alongside her normal schooling. Zach and Church chatted occasionally, the bigger man finally calming when it seemed that I had given up and was going to let the youngest Dougherty make all the choices today.
I was clearly no danger to her while pinned down and half-shaved.
And while I was obviously on the outside of this group, there was something so calming about the easy companionship. It had been such a long time since I was a part of anything so wholesome that my chest ached, and I found myself almost disappointed as I stood up from the chair.
Madeline started, her mouth an O as she stared at me. “Holy shit.”
“Language, young lady,” Zach reminded her, jabbing the air with a comb before stepping forward to brush some rogue strands of hair off my shoulders. “But you did have the right idea. Holy shit, Mr. Crowe, you’re a total fox.”
I frowned, and they all laughed, even Church.
“Look in the mirror, Neal.”
I ducked, leaning into the chair once more so I could look into the mirror that they’d used to get me to this point. The face staring back was shockingly familiar and strange at the same time. There were the same dark eyes, the same dimple, but they were easier to see now that the layers of overgrown beard, the too-long curls were gone.
I was me again. The me from before everything happened. And for a long moment, I waited for the fear, the grief to kick in, but it didn’t. Only a strange excitement. Something new was happening, and for the first time in a long time, I couldn’t wait to see what happened next.
***
Penelope
I bit my lip, staring down into the swirling steam. I’d been waiting all day for this bath, and I was almost bouncing with excitement. Moving my wineglass to the bamboo tray situated across the tub, I dropped my robe.
Whatever Madeline had cooked up for Neal and Church was taking forever. She’d texted me a few minutes ago saying that they were running even later than expected, quickly followed with a myriad of emojis and exclamation points that I took as she was enjoying herself. Knowing I had more time to soak in a little bit of extra peace, I had headed straight to the tub. I swung my legs over, hissing at the heat of the water. Just me, my favorite chardonnay, and vanilla-scented bliss.
I leaned back, balancing a little precariously as I reached for my neck pillow. Snagging it, I wobbled and realized I’d made a horrible miscalculation. With a splash, I slid into the water, and before I could stop myself, I shrieked out a protest, the hot water shocking my skin and sending me flailing. My towel fell to the floor, and my glass of chardonnay tumbled to the marble and shattered.
I gasped, rolling over in the tub and stared, groaning, over the edge at the mess I’d made. “God, I’m such a mess sometimes.”
“Penny,” the rasped word was enough to send goose bumps flying down my skin. I forget about everything else around me. My entire focus was on the man who was standing in my now-open bathroom door. My heart fluttered, hard. It was Neal, but not quite the Neal from this morning.
This man had freshly styled hair, the silver and black hairs blending together, the slight wave to them still evident. His chest was heaving under a fitted black button-down and light-gray slacks. A pair of black boots made a solid noise as he stepped into the bathroom. He watched me, eyes dark and worried.
“Neal…” I swallowed, dropping farther into the water. I knew he couldn’t see everything from his perspective, but still, my skin tingled as his Adam’s apple bobbed. He couldn’t seem to look away.
