Alicia

Time passes as the days grow colder and snowier. February is upon us and while most think January is the worst for the winter, February is the one that knocks you on your ass.

It’s snowed every day for the past week and the temperatures drop to below zero at night.

Makes someone want to become a hermit, holed up all day in their warm bed.

Which I’ve pretty much become. Besides work and taking care of my mom, I don’t do much else. Ruby and I used to fill our weekends with things to do or I’d be booking gigs.

Now, I fill my weekend with taking care of my mom and running errands.

Ruby’s loving New York. She fell right in with the lifestyle as I knew she would. Her apartment is gorgeous. I couldn’t help drooling when she gave me the official FaceTime tour. I’m beyond jealous of her.

She’s invited me down for the weekend in a couple of weeks, but I’m afraid if I go, I’ll like it too much. Plus, I can’t leave my mother for too long.

I’ve thought about calling up some of my old friends, ones I’ve lost touch with. I’ve thought about going on dates, putting myself out there.

But I never follow through. I’d rather stay in my safe bubble.

At least my day job has gotten better. I keep busy and they do a good job at keeping my schedule full. They haven’t hired anyone else, but I’m not complaining. I like keeping busy as it makes the time go by.

My boss has backed off me since my first day, but that doesn’t mean he stops watching me.

I try to ignore it, but it’s getting on my last fucking nerve.

I’m debating asking for my hours to be cut. My mom needs me, and she can’t afford a full-time nurse. I’ve saved enough money that could sustain me while I work less. I can always add more hours later.

My tires slide on the icy side roads, the snow coming down harder as the morning ticks by. I told the shelter I’d volunteer today and even though it’s snowing like a bitch I didn’t want to cancel.

The wipers don’t do much for the flurries of snow pouring from the sky, and I squint my eyes as I look for the street. I’ve come a few times already, but I always miss the damn street.

“Ah!” I see it up ahead and as I slow down to turn my tires slide and I feel the car slip. A rush of panic runs through me as I lift my foot off the gas.

A few seconds later the tires grip and the car straightens out. My heart pounds in my chest, the beats louder than drums in a marching band.

“At least I made the turn,” I mutter to myself.

A car horn sounds behind me, and I jump. Glancing in my rearview, I see a big guy in a cruiser type looking car.

Who is that?

I pull into a spot, the car pulling in beside me. A knock sounds on my window a moment later.

Damn, that was quick. Who in the hell is that?

When I look up I see the man who confronted me before. The one demanding answers in the shelter.

I turn away and gather my things without bothering to open the window. He can wait.

I open my door and step out, coming face-to-face with one gorgeous piece of man. My breath catches in my throat, and I take a step back.

“What’s wrong? Alicia, is it? Remember me? I knew I made an impression on you.” He smiles, showing me a set of pearly white teeth.

Damn, they are white. Almost blinding.

I chuckle to myself. He’s a cocky one, isn’t he?

“An impression?” I bite my lip to stop my grin.

He nods as he takes a step closer, closing the gap I put between us. His tall frame towers over me and even as the snow swirls around us and the cold bites at my cheeks I’m not cold. I’m flushed, my skin burning inside my coat, his gaze lighting my body on fire.

It throws me off and stops my giggling. I want to shrink back into my car and hide until he’s gone.

“It’s all right, Alicia. You don’t have to admit it. I wouldn’t want to admit being infatuated with a stranger, but hey, it happens. A lot of women want a piece of me.”

His words have my blood boiling. The playful chemistry I was feeling mere moments ago evaporates in an instant as his smug words settle in my head.

“Don’t flatter yourself. The only impression you’ve made on me is your bad attitude. Now if you’ll excuse me I need to go inside.”

I step to the side and move around him, but he grabs my arm. “Wait.”

I pull my arm away, but I stop and turn to face him. His gorgeous looks throw me off, making me want to forget his arrogant, bad attitude. But then he opens his mouth and reminds me.

“Can I just ask you a few questions about this place? I’m looking to adopt and need as much info as I can get. I thought you seemed friendly enough.” He crosses his arm and glares at me. “Now I’m not so sure.”

I squint my eyes at him, the snow coming down harder now.

He’s adopting a child? Damn, I hope his attitude changes before then. I study his features as I contemplate whether to answer him. Why me? Why not ask the staff? Like, the director? Someone who has been here way longer than me.

“I can’t really help you. I haven’t been volunteering that long. Why don’t you ask the staff?”

I don’t wait for an answer. I march to the door and it takes everything in me not to turn back and check if he’s watching me or following me. Why? I don’t fucking know. I’m a glutton for punishment maybe.

Or maybe because this complete stranger has gotten under my skin and I don’t know why.

When I reach the door, I look, a small part of me hoping he’s standing there watching me. But all I see are swirls of snow.

* * *

Kayla isn’t herself today. Her face carries a permanent scowl.

“Want me to give you a facial and cut your hair?”

She shakes her head, her eyebrows pulling together.

“Okay, nails then?”

Kayla crosses her arms and turns away.

I guess I’m not getting through today.

“Okay, sweets, when you feel like talking or hanging out, let me know.” I pat her knee and swallow over the lump forming in the back of my throat. I wish I could take all of her sadness and get rid of it. So young to be so sad. Unfortunately, I know exactly how it feels.

I head to another common area, deciding to set up a few things in hopes a few wander over here to hang out. I don’t like to push myself on anyone, and I find it’s better to make myself welcoming and have them approach me.

“Excuse me?” a sweet voice calls behind me.

It’s a young girl, probably only eleven or twelve, her face soft but sad.

“Hi! Want a haircut or some fun nail polish?” I flash her a bright smile.

She nods as she casts her eyes downward, her hands gripped so tight her knuckles are white.

Poor thing is shy and nervous too.

“Come sit. Make yourself comfortable. So, what were you thinking for your hair?” I study her, thinking how a fresh cut with some layers to her face and a nice touch of color will brighten her face. I want to open her face, pull her out of the shyness she hides behind. Or the sadness. I’m not quite sure which yet.

The petite girl sits in a chair in front of me, and I flip to the hair color samples in my book. I glance back at her hair, a dark plain brown that will open up with some blond highlights.

“Do you like this color?” I look back at my book, pointing to the honey blond swatch. “I can add some highlights of this color if you’d like.”

She nods and shifts her eyes down as she grips her hands together, her shoulders hunched and tense. This poor girl. I wonder what her story could be, but all I know is I need to make her feel better. That’s all that matters right now.

I pat her hand and when she looks up at me, I see a small gleam of light. She’s got spirit in there. I just need to get it out of her.

“Let’s get you beautiful, shall we?” I stand and clap my hands together.

Sometimes there’s someone out there sadder, more broken than me. All I can do is try to make them feel better.

If anything, I’ll know I tried.

* * *

The salon has been mysteriously slow, and I’ve been taking more and more days off. It’s weird how it was busy when I first started and now it’s all of a sudden dead. The other two girls I’ve been working with haven’t been around much, their schedules just as empty.

Honestly, it’s a weird fucking vibe. I don’t know what it is, but something nags at me when I’m there. My creepy boss or the dark break room add to the creepiness, and I contemplate if this is the place for me.

I don’t have much choice in the job department besides going back to booking my own gigs, but it’s too time-consuming when having to care for my mom. There’s only one other salon in town, and I’ve burnt my bridge there, so that’s out of the question.

“A? Can you bring me a glass of water, please?”

I put my book down and stretch. The past couple of days I’ve stayed here, my mom needing round the clock care. She’s fighting an infection and since her immune system is compromised right now, it’s running her ragged. All her energy is gone and her fever fights back. Up and down, sweats and chills, the poor thing can’t catch a break. I wish I could take her pain away.

After grabbing a cold bottle of water from the fridge, I climb the stairs and remind myself to make a pot of coffee when I’m back downstairs. I’m already dragging ass and it’s only early afternoon.

“Yoo-hoo!” A loud voice rings through the air.

I smile to myself. It’s Mel, my mom’s best friend.

“Hey, Auntie. I’ll be down in a minute,” I call before bringing my mom her bottle of water. I check her temp. Thankfully it’s staying down for the first time. Let’s hope it stays down.

“Feeling any better, Ma?” I tuck her blanket in around her before I help her sip her water.

“Is death warmed over better than death burnt to a crisp?” she croaks out.

I smile. “Who says death burnt to a crisp?”

“Me, that’s who.”

“Shh, Ma, just sleep. Your body’s been through a lot. I’ll go talk to Auntie.”

“Oh, oh, she’s here? Send her up.”

“I will, Ma. For now, just sleep. We’ll get a good dinner going, something hearty.”

Mom nods, her eyes closing. I tiptoe out and close the door behind me until I hear a soft click.

I hear Mel humming, a habit she’s always had, or more like talent. Even though she’s not my aunt by blood or marriage, she’s the closest thing I’ve had to family. My mom is an only child and my dad never spoke to his family, so there was always Auntie Mel.

She’s mom’s best friend from elementary school and like a second mother to me. She showered me with gifts and lavished me with treats. She babysat me on the nights my mom picked up extra shifts and my dad was, well, who knows where he was.

I round the corner to the kitchen and see Mel filling the coffee pot. She read my mind.

“Hey, Auntie.”

“Oh, Alicia!” She hurries over and envelopes me in a big hug, pressing me tight against her chest. I saw her last week, but it’s been a tough time lately. “Hanging in there? Are you taking care of yourself?”

She pulls back and studies me. I offer a smile. “I’m okay, Auntie. One day at a time, right?”

Mel rubs my arms up and down as she nods. “That’s right, sweetie. You know it.” She winks and then turns back to the coffee as she gathers the sugar and creamer. “How is she doing, really? I know she doesn’t tell me the full truth.”

I sigh as I take a seat at the kitchen table. Mel fixes our coffee and brings the two steaming mugs to the table.

Mmm, the coffee smells divine.

“She’s better now, but that infection was nasty. The fever just wouldn’t let go.” I blow on my coffee before taking a small sip.

“You’re a good daughter, A. You’ve been here this whole time.” She sips her coffee, the heat seeming not to bother her.

“She took care of me. Now it’s my turn.” I shrug, picking at the placemat.

“Well, reach out for help when you need to, okay?”

“I will.”

Aunt Mel rubs my hand. “You’re doing a great job, A. I pray every day for your mom to beat this nasty illness. We have to hold onto the hope.”

I nod and swallow over the lump in my throat. My emotions clearly show too well on my face. I breathe in and out, forcing the tears back. “I know.” Is all I manage to get out. I distract myself with my coffee before grabbing a chocolate from the bowl on the table.

Chocolate. Good for the soul.

I pop the delicious sweet candy in my mouth, savoring its flavor. Mixing the flavor in my mouth with coffee and my problems are momentarily forgotten.

“Okay, A plus girl, what should we make for dinner?” Mel stands and begins to open cabinets, in search of the next great meal.