MacKenzie Fire(100)

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the galavanting Sally back to grace us with her presence,” Mildred says, looking up at me through her Coke-bottle-thick glasses.

“Hello, Mildred. How have you been? I’ve missed you.” I kiss my hand and wave it at her. She’s not much for physical touching but she suffers through my air-kisses.

“Same as always. Not dead yet but one foot in the grave.” She shifts her gaze to Ian. “And what, pray tell is this?” She gestures with a boney finger in Ian’s direction.

I put my hand on Ian’s arm and smile. “This is Ian. I brought him back with me from Oregon.”

“What for?” Mildred squints up at him, staring at his hat. “You gonna marry him?”

My jaw drops open and my face burns red. “Uhhh …” Ian and I haven’t talked marriage. Yes, we’ve discussed him living out here, but that was it. I’m so embarrassed right now it’s not even funny. I wish I could turn back time and bring Ian in here on a day that Mildred wasn’t going to be around.

Ian walks over and takes a seat in the chair next to Mildred. “Maybe. If I can convince her it’s a good idea.”

Mildred snorts. “Good luck with that.” She turns her attention to the manicurist. “Hey! Watch it there, girl. I have sensitive cuticles, you know.” She looks over at Ian. “It’s so hard to find good help these days. The incompetence is everywhere.”

Ian leans over and looks at Mildred’s toes. “They look pretty good to me.” He points at the heel of her foot that’s the current work in progress. “What do you call that?”

Mildred leans over and looks at her feet. “What do I call what?”

“What she’s doing to your foot there. Looks like she’s got a cheese grater in her hand.”

Mildred cackles. “Sure does, doesn’t it? Never thought of it that way.”

Ian looks worried. “You sure you want her cheese-gratin’ your feet?”

“Feels good. Leaves ‘em baby smooth. You should try it. Bet you’ll like it.”

Ian shakes his head. “No, ma’am. I like my feet where they belong. In my boots.”

Mildred waves at Jorge who’s hiding behind me at the entrance. “Hey, twinkle toes! Why don’t you come on in here and do his feet? Bet he could use a little cheese gratin’!”

Jorge’s mouth drops open and he stares at me.

I shrug, completely at a loss.

“You think I should?” Ian asks Mildred. “I don’t know. Looks a little dangerous. She’s got a sharp thing on you now. Better watch it.” Ian points to the cuticle nippers that are working on Mildred’s big toe. She’s prone to hang nails.

“You’re telling me that a big strong cowboy like you ’s afraid to have his feet done? Come on, don’t be such a big puss.”

Ian laughs. “A big puss? Did you just call me a big puss?”

Mildred shrugs and picks up her magazine. “I call it like I see it.”

Ian sits back in his chair and takes off his hat, resting his booted feet on the edge of the foot tub. “Can’t let someone besmirch my good name like that and get away with it.”

“Besmirch. That’s a quarter word.” Mildred’s acting like she’s not paying him any attention, but I know better. She’s just as enthralled with him as Jorge and I are, in her own bratty old-lady way. My heart is melting into a puddle of goo as I watch him work to break down her walls. No one has ever gotten this much conversation out of the woman. And I know her well enough to see that she finds him charming. It’s pretty impossible not to.

He tilts his head to face her. “Will you hold my hand during the cheese grater part?” he asks her.

She cackles. “Get your girlfriend to hold your hand. I’m spoken for.”

Ian looks at me. “Will you hold my hand?” he asks.

I come over and stand next to him. “Sure, babe. I’ll hold your hand.”

He looks over my shoulder at Jorge and winks before focusing on me again. “How about marrying me. Will you do that too?”





Chapter Forty-Eight





I’M STANDING THERE HOLDING HIS hand, confused as I watch him reach into his pocket and dig around.

“What?” I’m sure I don’t understand what he’s saying.

Is this another tease on Mildred that I’m just not getting?

He pulls a black box out of his pocket and flips the top open with one finger. “You heard me. I asked you if you’ll hold my hand during the cheese grater part and if you’ll marry me.”

A diamond ring is sparkling up at me from a bed of black velvet. My heart stops beating.

“OH MY GOD!” Jorge yells in a voice more suited to a game show win. “HE IS PROPOSING TO HER RIGHT HERE IN THE SALON!” Jorge starts jumping up and down like a human pogo stick. “SUNNY! GET YOUR SWEET BUNS IN HERE!”

I’m too stunned to reply. My mouth hangs open but no words will come out. The most beautiful man in the entire world, the one who accepted all my friends and my crankiest client-slash-grandma with open arms … literally with open arms … wants to be with me forever. Am I in a coma, having a coma dream? Did that cougar really tear me apart and all of this has been a fantasy cooked up in my drugged-out mind? Am I really still in an Oregonian hospital being poked and prodded by Nurse Ratched?