C3 (for Cut, Color, and Chat) is a full-service salon with four stylists and one nail specialist. It caters to women and men, technically. Clay has never seen another man in the place when he’s been there. He doesn’t ask if he’s the only man the salon cuts because he doesn’t want Steph to feel self-conscious about the pink walls, abundance of orchids, and magazines that mostly cater to women.Cosmopolitan,Vogue,Elle, and that sort. He wishes he could get his hair cut at the barber shop, but Hank doesn’t do well with longer hair. And he doesn’t seem all that willing to learn. Even Teddy won’t go to Hank. Deb cuts his hair.
Deb has offered to cut Clay’s, too. But Steph does a good job, and Clay enjoys seeing her every couple of months. Clay also likes that it drives Judd nuts, Clay getting his hair cut at a beauty salon. Take your pleasures where you can find them.
Steph shampoos Clay’s hair in the sink. He feels her long nails on his scalp as he breathes in the scent of tea tree oil and lavender. Steph and Clay dated in high school, although they didn’t attend the same school. Steph was the hottest townie. That was according to the other boys at Dorset-Cornwall. They objectified the local girls. And even before Clay could fully understand the dynamic, he felt the Dorset-Cornwall boys’ sense of entitlement over the townies. Like they were there for the taking, the using and abusing. To bow to the boarding schoolboys’ whims in the hopes of being lifted out of obscurity. None of this was said aloud, of course. But it was implied. These guys were Clay’s friends, but he didn’t like it. Nor did he participate in their locker-room talk.
Rather than lecture his classmates, Clay dated Steph and treated her as if she were a Dorset-Cornwall girl. He took her to parties. He made no off-color remarks about her. He didn’t cheat on her.
“You finally ready to get rid of your gray?” says Steph, wrapping Clay’s head in a towel.
“No thanks,” says Clay. “That’s an unwinnable battle I’d rather not fight.”
“Just trying to make you look less distinguished. You got enough going your way.”
Clay responds with a half-smile, gets up from the shampoo chair, and follows Steph toward her station.
Their high school romance seemed perfect on the surface and, in many ways, it was. Clay and Steph lived down the block from each other. They were both occupied with school and extracurricular activities. Steph kept busy with her after-schooland weekend job. Clay’s soccer obligations made it seem like he had a full-time job in addition to his academically rigorous coursework. They found time for each other on weekend evenings.
But the relationship struggled for light in the shadow of Clay’s inevitable departure. He was honest and up-front with Steph from the beginning. He had no intention of staying in Riverwood after graduating. And no intention of returning. There seemed to be no solution. Steph wasn’t headed to a four-year college, and Clay was headed to a top-tier school, or maybe even straight into professional soccer. She wouldn’t go with him. Their romance had an expiration date.
“I’m sorry about Teddy,” says Steph, pulling a comb through Clay’s hair and judging the unevenness of its ends.
“Thanks,” says Clay. “You know Teddy. He’s the best. Until he isn’t.”
“I do know Teddy,” says Steph, and Clay knows she’s referencing the high school years when they dated. He would bring her to Teddy and Deb’s place for dinner rather than home to his father. Those were the worst years between Clay and Judd, when Clay was morphing into a man and making decisions that might cleave him from his father forever.
Clay catches the subtext of her reference to their past and decides to stay on topic. “I’m pretty worried about him,” says Clay. “Do you know if he might have got mixed up in something he shouldn’t have? Any good gossip coming through the shop about criminally active boyfriends or husbands?”
Steph grabs a section of Clay’s hair between her index andmiddle fingers and uses them as a guide to snip off the ends. “I do know about one thing,” says Steph. “And it’s not really gossip. It’s a fact. Last year, I’d just about had it with Wags’s antics so I gave him an ultimatum. One more ruse or pyramid scheme or get-rich-quick idea and I’d leave him. He knew I meant business so he straightened up. Focused on his job at the garage. Didn’t stay out all hours. Then…” Steph grabs another section of Clay’s hair on the opposite side of his head and compares it to the section she’d just trimmed. “He starts getting up at three, four in the morning. Told me they were falling behind with all the brake jobs and tune-ups, so he was getting a jump on his days until they got caught up. Sounded reasonable to me. Every morning. Up well before the sun and out he goes. Home for dinner as usual and early to bed. Mr. Busy Bee, right?”
Clay doesn’t answer.
“Well, one Sunday, this was just last month, Wags was back at the garage getting caught up some more, and I was thinking, Riverwood, Minnesota, is a small town. We don’t have a big enough population to back up an auto shop that bad, especially since we have a few garages in town. I started to get suspicious. You know what I mean? Like I didn’t outright think,Oh, Wags is up to something again, but I was getting that sick feeling. Like something’s wrong.
“And you know me, Clay. When something feels off, I don’t sulk. I don’t drink. I like to be as industrious as possible, you know, like I’m a counterweight to whatever bad is going on. So I thought I’d gather up all the old paint cans we have lying around and take them to the toxic-waste place over in Preston. Hell,half of those paint cans came with the house when we bought it. They’re just taking up space. So I start sifting through the storage shed and I find this huge box of metal things. Kind of looked like oval-shaped metal cans but with pipes coming out of each end. I didn’t know what the hell I’d stumbled on. I took a picture of one and did a reverse-image search and do you know what they were?”
Clay shakes his head.
“Catalytic converters,” says Steph. “And believe you me, Clay, I’d heard plenty about those. They’re getting stolen left and right around here. Half my clients have complained to me about it. It’s gotten so bad you can’t park your car outside overnight. Apparently, there’s some kind of valuable metal in them. Palladium, I think it’s called. They sell it to scrap dealers.”
“And Wags is the one stealing them?” says Clay.
“Well, I confronted him, and he tried to deny it. Said he was taking bad ones home from the garage and he was going to weld them into some kind of sculpture. Total bullshit if I’ve ever heard it. He’s doesn’t have an artistic bone in his body. Wags got real nasty about it. Like threatening. So I told him I’d made myself clear. No more chances. No more warnings. I kicked his ass to the curb. And then I told everyone that if anything happened to me or the kids, it would be Wags who did it. I’ve told your dad he’s threatened me. And I’ve told Chief Jensen. And I hired a lawyer and we are into it. Wagner Becker and I are done. Forever this time.”
Clay separates the two pieces of information Steph has just given him. One is that catalytic converters are being stolen and,her implication is, Teddy could be involved by working with Steph’s soon-to-be ex-husband, Wags. It makes sense—it’s the kind of thing Teddy has done in the past. Once he stole a combine from a farmer who’d left it running in the middle of a field. Teddy tried to sell it for parts and, if not for Judd cutting a deal with the farmer not to press charges, Teddy would have served time. Clay’s uncle is also friends with Wags Becker, so that increases the chances of Teddy’s involvement in the catalytic converter thefts.
The other big piece of information Steph just laid on him is that she and Wags are done. Her marriage has always felt like a safety net for Clay. It’s been okay for Steph to cut his hair. It’s been okay for them to feel like friends. But anything beyond that has been squashed by the simple fact that Steph is married. News of that marriage’s demise has the potential to shift the dynamic.
Clay plans on being cautious when it comes to dating in a small town. He’ll only date when Braedon is on a trip with Judd. Hunting or fishing in northern Minnesota. He’ll steer clear of Riverwood. Instead he’ll use the apps to meet women who live in Rochester or even all the way up in the Twin Cities. His romantic life will be discreet. Clean. Uncomplicated.
He makes no assumptions about Steph’s interest in dating again. If she puts herself back out there, he’ll make no assumptions she’s interested in him. The idea of rekindling their old romance jumbles his gut. Clay and Steph have a history together. And history with a person, especially someone you knew growing up, seems to carry more weight the older you get.
Clay says, “Sorry to hear you’re going through that. Must be brutal.”
Steph sighs. “Wags is begging me to take him back. Apologizing all over the place. Says it’ll never happen again. But hey, I’ve heard that before. And now there’s a nasty threat in his voice, like the words are nice, but he sounds anything but nice. So sorry, mister. You’re on your own.”
“How are the kids doing with it?” says Clay.
“They get it. It’s not easy for kids having a dad be just another kid in the house. Especially for Thomas. He’s fifteen. He needs a strong male role model. In a way, it’s kind of more normal now that Wags is out of the house. But still. A family splintering. The whole thing is just sad. Regardless of the why. The kids will have their hard times, but they’ll be okay. I’ll make sure of it.”
