Shannon looks up at me and says, “Awww. That’s so sweet. You brought all that for Angie?”
I nod, turning my eyes back to Angie. I don’t walk over to her yet. She’s still sizing me up—and the basket. She’s definitely curious.
Mrs. Barnes’ conversation fills the silence in the salon. “We’re swimming with actual stingrays. I still don’t know if it’s safe, but Steven assured me they wouldn’t have it as an attraction if tourists got killed doing it. And, if I’m going to have a death by stingray, at least I’ll have those darling pineapples on my toenails when I do!”
Shannon giggles lightly. “You’ll be coming back here in one healthy, tanned piece. Pineapple toes and all. I can’t wait to hear all about it.”
They must be going on vacation. I’m sure I’ll hear all about it soon enough.
I take a breath and walk over to Angie, lugging the basket that might weigh twenty pounds.
Okay. Okay. Maybe it is doing too much.
“What’s in there?” Angie asks softly.
A few of the customers are honed in on us, but Mrs. Barnes is chatting up a blue streak with Shannon, and Laura’s back to focusing on cutting Starla’s hair.
“Bath stuff,” I say, holding the basket out in her direction.
She takes it, and her body sags with the weight. I put my hands back under it, taking it back from her and setting it in her empty chair.
“There’s enough stuff in there that my boys won’t fit in the bath!” Angie says with a smile.
“It’s not all for one bathtime. I read online that rotating toys keeps children from getting bored. And the end of the day is a time when they’re less patient and more likely to give you a hard time. So, I got you a rotation.”
“You went online to look that up?”
“Is that not the best source for parenting intel?” I ask her.
“Parenting intel,” she echoes, laughing lightly at my word choice. “It can vary. But what you read is true.”
“Good,” I say, making a show of wiping my hand across my brow.
“Do you want to check it out?” I ask her, eager to see her reaction to the squeezy firetrucks that float, the toy Dalmatians, and the towels that look like turnouts with hoods that look like firefighter helmets.
Okay, so I themed my gifts.
Overnight shipping was my friend.
“This is unnecessary,” Angie says, eyeing the basket.
“I beg to disagree.”
“Really. I already know you're a good man, EJ. You've shown me that you care.”
I lower my voice, stepping nearer to her even though most of the salon has resumed whatever they were doing before I showed up.
Shannon’s at the door, seeing Mrs. Barnes out and saying, “Enjoy Aruba!”
I look Angie in the eyes. “That gossip rocked your world. My lack of clarity didn't help. I want to scrub all that clean.”
I almost reach out to touch her. I would. But not here.
Instead, I hold her gaze with mine, hoping she feels my words as if I’m whispering them to her in the privacy of my truck bed while I’m holding her in my arms.
“I want you to be so convinced of my intentions no one can ever sway you. You’re going to know all the way to your bones how all in I am.” I pause and add, “For youandthe boys.”
She steps closer, still looking up into my eyes, and pulls me into a hug, right in front of everyone.
