A Mother's Homecoming(39)

“I used to be a friend of your mother’s,” Martha added. “Well, social buddy anyway. I spent so much time at Wade’s that I had my first wedding there! Guess it wasn’t such a shock when that didn’t work out. I’m remarried now. And I don’t go down to the Watering Hole anymore.”

“Good for you.”

“Yes, it is. I won’t say it’s been easy, but it’s been worth it. Keep that in mind for yourself, dear. I realize you’re dealing with some difficult personalities—” she fluttered her fingers in the direction of the salon “—and probably some difficult personal situations. But hang in there. One day you could be the almost-to-a-decade nosy old lady butting into something that’s none of her business.”

Pam laughed. “I look forward to it.”

After her chat with Martha, Pam’s spirits were restored enough that she walked back into the salon with a smile on her face. She even managed to keep it there when she saw that Faith was in Nancy’s chair and that the stylist was egging on the girl’s rebellious moment. Her hair was a good six inches shorter! When the cut was finished, Pam watched Faith stare into the mirror, eyes wide as she considered what she’d done.

To keep her heart from sinking, Pam reminded herself that hair grew back. Eventually. Besides, maybe this would teach Faith to be more judicious with her actions. It wasn’t even that the cut looked bad—if Nancy wasn’t a stellar human being, she was still a decent stylist—but the new length was something of a shock. She looks older. Faith’s features were highlighted differently. One no longer saw a pretty girl with a fall of long hair; one glimpsed the young woman she was on her way to becoming.

Pam had the oddest urge to give the girl a hug, feeling almost maternal in that split second. But she squashed the instinct. Pam could just imagine Nick’s outrage if she encouraged Faith … and he’d be right. It wouldn’t be fair to raise the girl’s hopes that they could have a normal mother-daughter relationship. Not that Pam even knew what that was.

At the register, Pam took a collection of one- and five-dollar bills from the now subdued girl, the wad of cash making it clear that this was accumulated allowance. Nick would have simply handed her a twenty.

“Wait,” Nancy called, “don’t forget to apply the firsttime customer discount. I’ve never cut her hair before.” Since stylists liked to build their client base and end up with loyal, repeat business, it wasn’t uncommon to use such discounts. But Pam suspected Nancy’s offer came more out of guilt for taking the kid’s money.

Pam handed back a five. “Here. Are you going to be able to get home okay?”

Faith rolled her eyes. “Got here just fine, didn’t I?”

“About that. Faith, I work here. I’m sure you don’t traipse onto your dad’s construction sites in the middle of his projects. If there’s an emergency, that’s one thing, but …”

“Right. I get it. You don’t want me around.”

Yes, I do. More than I should. The girl’s wounded expression triggered guilt so sharp that Pam swallowed, suddenly thirsty. She missed the days when she could have a drink to blunt the razor edges of unwanted emotion—but it had never only been one drink and the painful emotions had always been there when she was sober again.

If she couldn’t make herself feel better, she could at least try to lessen the sting of her rejection for Faith’s sake. “I don’t want you at the salon,” she clarified. “Not in the middle of my shift, anyway. It’s unprofessional.”

“But other times, when you’re not at work?” Faith pressed. “Because there was something I wanted to talk to you about. Can you teach me to play guitar?”

Pam rubbed a hand against her temple, torn. It was so tempting, to seize the opportunity to spend more time with the girl. Why doesn’t she hate me? That would almost be easier. “I’m only in town for a matter of weeks. Wouldn’t you rather find a regular instructor who can keep working with you after I’m gone?”

Faith’s shoulders hunched. “I guess. There’s a guy my friend knows who might be able to help.”

“There you go!” Pam smiled encouragingly. This other teacher would be for the best. Even though Pam periodically tuned her guitar, it had been a couple of years since she’d really played.

Faith didn’t return the smile. Instead she glared as she pocketed her change. “See you around.”