Winnie laughed. “I’m a single mother. Everything I do is with Katie in mind. She’s not going to end up like me, that’s for sure.”
I started to gesture around the salon, then realized excessive movements when someone was wielding scissors and hair dye around me was a bad idea. “You seem to be doing pretty well for yourself. This place is way nicer than the salon I remember back in high school.”
She wrapped foil around the dye-covered hair and swiveled the chair around. “You can open your eyes now. I’m going to grab the heat lamp and you’ll need to sit under it for about thirty minutes. Be right back.”
She switched her soiled gloves for clean ones, then hurried to the back and came out dragging what looked like a bunch of spotlights glued together. She plugged it in and directed all the lights at my hair. “Better make yourself nice and comfortable, Lila. Do you want a drink while you wait? We got coffee, tea, wine, and mimosas.”
Might as well go full-on Treat Yo’ Self. “I’ll have a mimosa, please.”
“Coming right up. Katie!” she called. “We need a mimosa over here.”
“Isn’t Katie underage? You let her serve the alcohol?”
She shrugged. “Not like she’s drinking it. Besides, you think the cops care?”
From her tone, they clearly did not. It’s like every time I thought the Shady Palms PD couldn’t get any lazier, they were like, Hold my beer! But in this case, they were saying it to a minor.
Katie appeared a few minutes later with an icy champagne flute. “Here you go, Lila. Mom, Mr. Weinman is here again. Says he needs to talk to you.”
Winnie groaned. “You think he’d get a clue. Sorry, Lila, this’ll only take a minute.”
I held up my mimosa. “No worries. I got my drink and another twenty minutes to go under this heat lamp.”
“And I’ll stay here to keep her company,” Katie said.
“See, I’m in good hands.”
Winnie smiled at that and went out in the parking lot to talk to Mr. Weinman.
“So, he comes by a lot?” I asked, sipping my drink. Wow, it was made with fresh-squeezed orange juice. Way better than I thought it’d be. Must remember to do this self-care thing more often.
Katie shrugged. “He’s always had a crush on Mom, and now that his wife left, he seems to think this is his chance. Poor guy.”
“She’s not interested?”
Katie shook her head. “If she wanted another man in her life, he’d have to be able to take care of both of us. Like, with money or whatever. Mr. Weinman can barely keep that store open, so he’s a waste of time, in her mind.”
“I wouldn’t think money was the most important thing in a relationship.”
“Love doesn’t last. Security is what’s important. That’s what Mom says anyway.” Katie frowned. “It sucks but it’s true. All the relationships I’ve seen end pretty fast. It’s not like in the movies.”
I laughed. “Nothing’s ever like it is in the movies. They’re not meant to reflect real life.”
“Then what’s the point?”
“Other than entertainment?” She nodded. I thought a moment before responding. “A sense of hope, I guess. That you can move past this. That good things are waiting for you.”
She rolled her eyes. “Doubt it.”
“Katie, not to be that person, but you’re only sixteen. I’m almost ten years older than you and even I still have so much to look forward to. High school isn’t all there is to life.”
Katie studied me. “I guess that’s why Joy likes you.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think she kinda sees you as a sign of hope. That she can get out of Shady Palms. And that even if she comes back, it’ll be OK.”
It hit me then: These girls saw me as a role model. I knew Valerie had gone on about me and Sana being inspirations in her opening speech, but I thought she was being pompous. That there was no way someone would look at me and see anything but failure. It’s what I saw every time I looked in the mirror lately. Which was why I needed the Brew-ha Cafe to be a success. I needed to prove to myself that I’d finally made it, despite having to come back home. Despite having to go into business with partners instead of flourishing on my own.
Despite never achieving the things my mother wanted me to achieve.
“Is that why you entered the pageant? To get away from Shady Palms?” I asked.
She nodded. “Mom said there’s nothing for me here. I think she secretly hopes I’ll marry a rich guy and make it easier on all of us, but I don’t want to live like that.”
“Married to a rich guy?” I thought of all the Cinderella story–esque romances I used to read (oh, who was I kidding? I still read them) and imagined all the ways I’d expand the cafe if I had a rich spouse to foot the bills.
“Waiting around for a guy with enough money to take care of me. I want to be able to take care of myself,” Katie said, showing more integrity than I could muster as I daydreamed about a professional-grade mixer, maybe even a blast chiller and soft-serve machine.
“That’s the goal, Katie,” Winnie said, appearing behind Katie and tossing an envelope on her workstation.
Katie hopped out of the seat next to me. “Mom! How much did you hear?”
“Enough.” Winnie frowned at her daughter. “When I told you to use your looks to get ahead, I didn’t mean so you can go off to college and get your Mrs. I meant beautiful people have special advantages and you should use them. Never rely solely on a man.”
“But you said—”
“I said money helps. But don’t get invested or plan your life around a guy. They don’t stick around.” Winnie’s voice was matter-of-fact, but I caught the bitterness that swept across her face before she sighed and kissed her daughter’s head.
Katie eyed the envelope on the table. “So, what did he want?”
“The usual. There are tickets to a concert in Shelbyville in there for both of us. He’s trying to butter me up by including you.”
“Eww, he wants me to come along on your date? No thanks.”
At the look her mother gave her, Katie said, “Oops, I think I’m needed in the front. Talk to you later, Lila!”
After her daughter left, Winnie started unwrapping the foil pieces around my face. “Let’s see how we’re doing . . . Yes, I think it’s ready. Let’s go wash this out and we can finish your cut.”
“Ooh, another head massage?”
She laughed. “Just a quick one. To get all the gunk out of your hair. No peeking!”
I finished out the rest of the cut with my eyes squeezed shut as she snipped and shaped my hair. “All right, just a quick blow-dry and we’re done.”
The firm bristles of a diffuser scraped against my scalp as she ran the blow-dryer and I tried not to fall asleep. The calming pressure of the bristles combined with the heat from the dryer was oddly soothing.
The hum of the dryer stopped, and before I could open my eyes, I heard Elena say, “Oh, Lila, you look wonderful!”