She blows a very wet raspberry and laughs, and Tank shakes his head. “Close, kid. You’re getting close.”
I wave at him and head through the parking lot to where I see Poppy standing in front of one of the shops. She’s waving excitedly and rocking up and down on her heels.
“Claire.” When I get close enough, she opens her arms. I set the detachable part of Aurora’s car seat down on the concrete so I can give Poppy a full-body hug. “Hi, friend. How are you?”
I smile, her beauty and poise no longer a source of shame. I may have very little, but I’m clean. I’m trying. That’s all that matters.
“I’m great,” I tell her. “But what’s going on?” I check the time on my burner phone. I’m supposed to meet Savage back at the compound around six.
“So…” Poppy smiles. “I hear today is a big day for you, and I wanted to start things off in style. Give you a little moving-home present just from me.”
I shake my head, confused. “You’ve done so much. What on earth do you want to do now?”
She holds the door open and motions me to go ahead of her. As soon as I get inside, Holly and Daisy,Poppy’s stepdaughters, jump up from the gorgeous leather couch in the waiting area.
“Aurora.” They shriek in unison and run toward me. “Hi, Claire. Hi, Claire.” Their voices carry over each other, and I laugh.
They’ve come to the compound to visit their dad and play with Aurora just a couple of times, but they are really sweet, loving girls. They take turns giving me huge hugs, like I’m a long-lost aunt they are absolutely thrilled to finally see again. At first, the affection feels overwhelming, but when I see Poppy’s encouraging smile, I accept their hugs and relax a bit.
These are genuine people. I was a good person once. And I’m slowly, slowly crawling my way back. Someday, I’ll be able to repay every one of these people for their kindness. For now, I feed on it, sucking it in gratefully and doing what I can to give it back.
“You two are the sweetest,” I say, looking from older sister to younger. They are so different from each other—Holly, the older, more sensitive and reserved one, and Daisy, all sass and colorful hair. She’s got a vibrant strip of blue in her hair, and I motion toward it.
“Is that fresh?” I ask. “You look amazing.” I turn to Holly. “And I hate to say it, but if I’d known you in high school, I would have been so jealous.” I touch the soft ends of Holly’s hair, curled in perfect, beachy waves. “You’re like teen models.”
They laugh and shake their heads, too excited about whatever they have planned for compliments. Daisy shows me a huge backpack.
“So, Ma said we could bring a few things.”
“A few,” Holly teases. “And then of course Daisy wanted everything.”
“Shut up,” Daisy snaps, but then she makes eyecontact with her mom and says, “I mean, come on, Hol. We needed all this.”
They pull out an assortment of toys and books, as well as a small blanket that they unfold and spread out on the pristine floor of the empty waiting area.
“What is this?” I ask.
Poppy claps her hands. “Spa day. I’m going to give you a fresh look while the kids take care of Aurora.” She points to a chair not far from the waiting room. “My station is right there, so you’ll be able to see them the whole time.”
I shake my head. I can’t accept this.
I feel the ends of my hair. I’ve been trimming my own hair with scissors for over two years. It’s long, like waist-length, but I keep it as healthy as I can under the circumstances. I wouldn’t even know what to ask for.
“Poppy, this is your business. I can’t?—”
“My treat,” Poppy says. “It’s a housewarming gift. And besides, I’m going to be going on maternity leave soon, so I wanted to give you something a little special before I’m off duty for a few months.”
“Okay,” I whisper, not wanting to be rude.
I leave Aurora with Daisy and Holly, and I can’t help but feel impressed and relieved at the same time.
If I end up getting a job again, childcare is going to be a very real concern. For now, Aurora getting used to new people, more than just me, is a process for me too. I’m grateful to have these safe and small steps to move us both forward through the past.
Poppy starts me off with a consult, and we talk about hairstyles and length.
“Hear me out,” she says. She takes a small amount of hair from the front and bends it over my forehead. “Have you ever had bangs? I am seeing a gorgeous wispy fringe to set off those gorgeous green eyes.”
My eyes sting with tears as I picture my mom. Dawn always had long, wispy bangs. It was a hairstyle that I associated with her and truly could never see on myself. But in Poppy’s chair, her soft scent filling my nose, the happy sounds of music and chatter echoing through the salon, I find myself unexpectedly open to anything.
