Your'e Still the One Read Free

she stepped up to the counter where Sally leaned a plump hip.
    Rachel remembered something. “Do not ask for a pedicure,” she told Jamie low enough not to be overheard.
    Sally stopped blowing on her red glossy nails. “What can I do for you young ladies?”
    Jamie hesitated, then frowned at Rachel. “Seriously?”
    “Trust me.”
    Sally’s fake brows lifted in question. They’d been plucked clean and penciled back in to match her big blond hair. The ’do was really something. Each year she seemed to tease the crown a bit higher—probably her version of a facelift—and poor Jamie, since laying eyes on her up close, seemed to be having trouble breaking contact.
    Rachel bit back a grin. “I’d like a shampoo and blow-out, a manicure, too, if you have time.”
    “Sure, we do.” Sally gave Jamie the once-over. “What about your friend?”
    “Same for me.” Jamie smiled, and subtly nudged Rachel. “And streaks. Just one for me, blue if you have it. Rachel?”
    Sally straightened, a twinkle lighting her eyes. “You want a streak in your hair, Rachel?”
    “Oh, why not? What color choices do you have? Purple would be good.”
    Roxy moved in next to Sally, her eyes wide under her mousy brown bangs. “Your mama’s gonna have a cow.”
    “Guess what?” Rachel leaned over the counter. Excitement shining in their faces, anxious for any tidbit, both women met her halfway. “I’m twenty-six years old.”
    Sally drew back with a humph. “You saying you don’t listen to your mama anymore?”
    “Nope.” Rachel smiled. “I’m saying she hasn’t told me what to do in a long time.”
    Clearly disappointed, Roxy shuffled back to her workstation. Anyone who knew her could pick out which spot was hers by the Elvis photos outlining the wall mirror. He’d passed away before she was born, but she’d been in love with him since the eighth grade.
    “Give me a minute to get ready for you.” Sally hustled toward the back station with the turquoise shampoo bowl.
    Rachel knew the wait would be a bit longer so Sally’s nails could dry. She turned her back on the shop so only Jamie could hear her. “The place looks old-fashioned but Sally isn’t a bad stylist. She keeps up on trends. Even tried jazzing up the place to keep the younger women from going to Kalispell for their haircuts, but the older clientele complained.”
    “Where do you get yours cut?”
    Rachel smiled wryly. “Kalispell.”
    “Okay, next time you go...”
    “Yep, I’ll let you know.”
    Jamie picked up a hairstyle magazine left on the counter and flipped through it. “So what’s the deal about not asking for a pedicure?”
    “I doubt Sally is set up for it. Around here goats and horses have their hooves trimmed, and women cut their own toenails.”
    “This is sad. I don’t know when you’re kidding anymore.”
    “Sometimes it’s an adjustment for me, too. I lived in Dallas for over six years, remember.”
    Jamie sighed. “Then I guess I shouldn’t ask for a Brazilian either.”
    Rachel laughed loudly enough that Sally and Roxy both sent her curious looks. Sally waved them back to her station, and before Rachel took the lead, she murmured to Jamie, “I dare you.”
    “I’m not worried. They’ll be too busy talking about you and your purple streak, Miss Goody Two-Shoes.”
    “Oh, they’ll be whispering all right...about what a horrible influence you are on me.”
    This time Jamie burst out laughing. “I’m screwed either way.”
    Sally motioned for Rachel to sit in her chair. “You ladies are in mighty fine moods. You just wait till you’re looking down the barrel of forty -six and see how chipper you are.” She shook out a plastic pink cape and draped it over Rachel.
    “What would you know about that?” Rachel lifted her hair so Sally could tie the strings. “You can’t be a day over thirty yourself.”
    Sally chuckled. She’d been telling people she was thirty-nine for so long, her age had remained a true mystery. But