took the plate and glass of milk from Laurel, then turned and delivered them to a startled Marilyn.
“Enjoy your lunch,” Ben said, then went back to where a stunned Laurel was still standing. “Do you or do you not accept my apology for speaking out of turn about you cutting your hair?”
“No, I don’t,” Laurel said, planting her hands on her hips, “because Cadillac and his buddies are going to have a field day with what happened in here. The whole thing is going to be blown way out of proportion by the time it gets passed from person to person.”
“Well, yeah, but…”
“And to add to the mix,” Laurel continued, “if I cut my hair, it will appear that I’m throwing a tantrum because you said I shouldn’t. If I don’t cut it, it will be perceived that Laurel Windsong is doing what Ben Skeeter told her to, obedient thing that she is.”
Ben grimaced.
“I could take a couple inches off your hair, Laurel,” Marilyn said from where she was sitting. “That might muddle the minds of the general populace of locals. You got a haircut, sort of, but then again, you didn’t. So? How’s that?”
“I’ll give it some thought,” Laurel said.
“Eat your lunch, Marilyn,” Ben said, frowning.
Marilyn laughed. “You’re getting crabby, Ben Skeeter. You’re the one who caused this whole fiasco. I’m just trying to be helpful.”
Ben’s handheld squawked, and he nearly hugged it for ending the conversation.
“Gotta go,” he said. “See ya.”
As Ben hurried out the door, Laurel watched him go, then began to clear the dishes from the booth where he’d been sitting.
“Well, it took four months or so, Laurel,” Marilyn said, “but you and Ben finally said more than three or four words to each other. Interesting. Very interesting.”
“Eat your lunch, Marilyn,” Laurel snapped, which caused the owner of the beauty shop to dissolve in laughter.
To Laurel’s amazement, the following hours went quickly and she was actually able to blank her mind due to the fact that they were extremely busy at the café. She and the other two waitresses hustled back and forth. Jane and her assistants in the kitchen never stopped preparing meals as well as afternoon snacks of May’s homemade pastries.
During the lull before the dinner crowd began to appear all the tables and the counter were given a scrubbing, the floor was swept, salt and pepper shakers filled, and on and on.
It was only when Laurel had to replace the ketchup bottle that Ben had nearly emptied onto his lunch that the entire episode began to replay, frame by frame, in her mind.
Ben didn’t want her to cut her hair, she mused as she checked the supply of napkins in the metal holders. He’d even said that her hair was beautiful and that he could remember how it had felt when…
Laurel sank onto a stool at the counter, plunked her elbow on top and rested her chin in her palm as she stared into space.
Goodness, she thought, this was so confusing. Why should Ben care one way or another what she did with her hair? And why had he been able to remember so quickly how it had felt when… This didn’t make sense at all. Ben Skeeter despised her, saw her as the person who had broken his heart by breaking her promises. So why…
“You look deep in thought,” Jane said, sliding onto the stool next to her daughter. “We’ve been so busy we haven’t had a second to talk all day. Are you all right after your…encounter, shall we say, with Ben?”
Laurel sighed. “I guess so. The whole thing was…confusing. That’s the word my mind keeps coming back to because it describes it the best. Confusing.” She paused. “Thank goodness that the majority of the customers today were tourists and I didn’t have to deal with the locals staring at me like a bug under a microscope.”
“That will come,” Jane said, laughing. “People have been watching you and Ben ever since you came home, and something finally happened between the two of you. Ben Skeeter definitely does not want Laurel Windsong to cut her hair. I imagine that news flash has been delivered through town and out to the rez by now.”
“Great,” Laurel said glumly. “What would we do without Cadillac? We have him, so we ought to do away with telephones.”
“All you can do is hope some fresh gossip comes along very quickly,” Jane said. “Like…oh, I don’t know…someone robs the bank.”
“Not going to happen,” Laurel said.
“Nope,” Jane said. “You’re just going to have to grin and bear this until people get tired of talking about it.” She stared into space. “You could have knocked me over with a feather when Ben hollered that you were not to cut your hair. That man certainly has a strong opinion on the subject, doesn’t he?”
“Mother,” Laurel said, sitting up straight on the stool, “you’re doing what everyone else is doing by now. You’re speculating about what happened and enjoying every minute of it. Shame on you. Where is your loyalty to your only child?”
“Well, honey,” Jane said, smiling, “you must admit it was quite a show.”
“It was a confusing show, that’s what it was,” Laurel said, sliding off the stool. “And I don’t wish to discuss it further, thank you very much.”
“Yes, dear. I understand,” Jane said. “Well, I’m going home for a while and put my feet up before it’s time for the dinner crowd. Everything is under control here. Do you want to come with me?”
“No, I feel edgy, restless,” Laurel said. “I think I’ll go for a walk and—oh, that’s brilliant. If I stroll down the sidewalk, everyone will pounce on me. Yes, Mother, I’ll drive home with you. And once I get there, I’m going to hide in my closet.”
Chapter Two
At the small house where Jane and Jimmy Windsong had lived during their entire marriage, Jane decided to walk down the block and check on an elderly woman neighbor who had been a bit under the weather.
Laurel wandered into her bedroom, slipped off her shoes and stretched out on the bed, hoping to take a nap for no other reason than it would give her a reprieve from replaying in her mind yet again what had happened with Ben at the café.
After staring at the ceiling for fifteen minutes, she sighed, gave up the attempt and sat up on the edge of the bed to look out the window facing the tiny backyard. A playful breeze chased a colorful autumn leaf across the expanse, swirled it around then picked it up and carried it away to yet unknown adventures.
Ten years ago, Laurel thought, she had been like that leaf. She’d left the familiar, this bedroom in the home where she’d grown up, the charming town of Willow Valley, her mother, friends and…and Ben. She’d traveled across the country to Virginia to attend the college that had awarded her a scholarship, obtained her degree then begun her career as a high school psychologist.
She’d been brimming with optimism and enthusiasm, had been convinced that she was going to accomplish great
