A Mother's Homecoming(57)



She slipped the card into her pocket. “Is it all right if I put these on the front desk for everyone to enjoy?”

“Well, there is a strict salon policy that says you can only display personal gifts and bouquets if you tell your coworkers who they’re from,” Dawn deadpanned.

Pam nibbled at her lower lip. Dawn was a dear, longtime friend—who better to confide in? But for the first time in her life, Pam was afraid of being in the spotlight, superstitious that if she invited outside speculation, things might fall apart before they’d even begun.

“Oooh, flowers.” Nancy strolled into the salon, her interest piqued. “I don’t suppose they’re for me? Clive and I had a bit of a spat, and it would be just like him to apologize this way.”

“Sorry, they’re Pam’s,” Dawn said with exaggerated sweetness. It was unlike her to be vindictive, but she’d made it clear on several occasions that she didn’t approve of the way Nancy treated Pam.

“Oh,” Nancy said flatly. She rolled her eyes. “You and Nick haven’t changed since high school, always so eager to flaunt your relationship in front of everyone else.” With that, she stomped toward the ladies’ room at the back of the salon.

“She’s crazy,” Dawn pronounced. “That was years ago. You and Nick aren’t … Are you?”

“I’m not sure,” Pam said. Although the flowers seemed like a pretty positive indication.

“When did this happen?”

“I’m not sure about that either.” Sometime between when he’d first shown up at Trudy’s to let Pam know she wasn’t welcome in Mimosa and when he’d entreated her to meet their daughter, between his calling her after that meeting to make sure she wasn’t tempted to drink and his making her lunch.

To say nothing of the wicked things he’d done to her on her couch.

“So what does this mean? Are the two of you back together?”

With a sigh, Pam carried the broom and dustpan into the storage closet. “Dawn, you can keep asking questions, but they won’t do you much good. You’ll notice ‘I’m not sure’ is the running theme here.”

“Hmm.” Dawn glanced toward the front door, which Pam didn’t have a clear view of from inside the closet. “Do you think his family might have some idea of whether you’re dating?”

“What do you mean, his family?” Oh, Lord. His mother decided she couldn’t afford a hit man and is coming to do me in herself. It was more likely Faith who was visiting, although Pam would be disappointed in the girl if she disobeyed her dad again.

Pam poked her head out of the closet just in time to see Leigh Shepard—Pam couldn’t recall her married name—enter the salon. The woman was carrying a basket on her arm as if she were stopping by on her way to grandma’s house.

“Afternoon, Dawn.” Leigh flashed the woman a genuine smile. “Got time to squeeze me in today? Thought I’d get a trim and drop these cookies off for Pamela Jo.” She glanced past Dawn, and the smile wobbled slightly when she spotted her former sister-in-law. “They’re sort of a housewarming gift, I guess. I understand you had furniture moved out to Mae’s old place this week.”

“Thank you.” Pam was touched. And deeply suspicious. Maybe she should have a lab in one of the bigger cities test the cookies before she ate any.

“Come on back,” Dawn invited Leigh. “You want a shampoo first or are we doing a dry cut?”

As Leigh explained what she was in the mood for today, Nancy returned to the front of the salon, belting her smock over her black jeans and black turtleneck sweater. “What smells so good up here?” she asked no one in particular. “Beth back with the food already?”

“Actually,” Pam replied, “Leigh brought me homemade cookies.”

Nancy’s lips compressed into a thin line that ruined the effect of her pout-plumping gloss. “What, is it your birthday or something?”

Pam studied the bright bouquet and aromatic basket of chocolate cookies and grinned from ear to ear. “Or something.”

“DID I CATCH YOU hard at work?”

Even though Pam knew the caller was going to be Nick before she answered—the number had flashed on the cell’s display screen—hearing his voice still sent a thrill through her. “Not exactly.” She’d actually been in the middle of a break, sitting out on the front step, listening to the cacophony of crickets and frogs and night birds now that dark had fallen. The sun was setting earlier and earlier each day, a clear mark that summer was behind them.

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