Chapter 11
Kim
“I TOLD YOU so,” Chris says after I tell him about what’s been going on between Sage and me.
I ignore his words and focus on cutting his hair and not my fingers.
“Told who what?” Ellie asks from the sinks, where she’s cleaning up after her last client. Looking at Chris through the mirror in front of us, I silently tell him to keep his mouth shut, because no one likes a know-it-all.
“Just told Kim something, and I reminded her I retained the right to say ‘I told you so’ when she realized I was right.”
“Oh, like when she finally realized she and Sage are perfect together?” she asks, coming over while wiping her hands on a towel.
“Exactly.” Chris swings his chair around to beam at her, causing me to almost cut off my finger. “They’re meant to be together. Everyone can see it, can’t they?”
“They are perfect together,” Ellie agrees softly, holding my gaze, but then her expression shifts to worry. “Have you told him about….” Her words trail off, not that I need to hear them. I know exactly what she’s referring to, and the thought causes my heart to squeeze painfully in my chest. I know realistically that I’m running out of time to tell him about my illness, but every second we spend together, the scarier the idea of confessing gets.
“Not yet.”
“Fuck me,” Chris growls, and I tip my head down to look into his disappointed eyes. “Kim, what the hell are you waiting for?”
“I….” I have no excuse except fear. The truth is like a big dark cloud that I can see off in the distance, but right now it’s okay, because above me are blue skies and sunshine. Unfortunately, that cloud keeps getting closer, and I know when it’s overhead I’m liable to drown in its downpour.
“You really should tell him,” Ellie says, sounding as disappointed as the expression on Chris’s face looks.
“I will. I’m waiting until the right time,” I murmur.
“Dude, you’ve read as many romance books as I have. You know this is not going to end well if he finds out and you didn’t talk to him about it first,” Chris adds, shaking his head.
“Except this isn’t a book. This is real life. I need to find a way to tell him that will ease any worries he may have so I don’t end up—”
“Broken,” Chris cuts me off, reaching out to take my hand. “I know you’re still trying to protect yourself, but, baby girl, you need to do the right thing. You need to tell him, so you guys can move on from it and start on your happily ever after. You’ve been doing good. You haven’t gotten sick since you met with your new doctor, and your last test results showed that your kidney function is holding steady. Those are good things, positive things.” He is right. They are good things, but I’m still sick so it’s actually not a good thing. “Please, for your sake, tell him.”
“I will,” I agree, leaving out the other words in my head. I’ll tell him when I’m brave enough to face his reaction.
“Lord Jesus, I can see it in your eyes that you’re not going to,” he mutters, and I sigh. Having a best friend you’ve known practically your whole life is awesome on occasion, like when you’re having a bad day and they know without asking to bring over ice cream and one of your favorite movies. Times like now, not so much.
“I’m going to tell him. I swear.”
“I hope so, and don’t think I missed your nose twitching, because I didn’t.”
“Whatever,” I grumble, and he smiles at me and I smile back. “Now come on. Let me finish your hair. I’ve got a client coming in, and if you don’t stop talking, I’m leaving you exactly like you are.”
“You would never.” He presses his hand to his heart.
“I will if you don’t stop yapping.”
“Fine, hurry up. I need to leave soon anyway. I have a date.”
“Is Dale coming into town?” I ask, turning him around to face the mirror once more.
“No,” he says, and I frown.
“Are you going to Florida?”
“No, I have a date with a guy I met at work.”
“You have a date with a guy you met at work?” I repeat, staring at him and feeling my eyes widen.
“Yes.”
“Who is he and why am I just now hearing about this?”
“His name is Fresco. I didn’t tell you, because you have your own stuff going on. I didn’t want to bother you with mine.”
“Are you kidding me right now?” I ask, swinging the chair around to look at him.
“No.”
“What the hell is going on with you and Dale?”
“We’re not together. You know that. And I’m not feeling the whole long distance thing anymore.”
“But you love him,” I whisper, and his face changes ever so slightly, causing the mask he’s obviously been keeping on for my sake to slip, showing me that he’s hurting.
“I do love him, but me loving him isn’t enough of a reason to keep my life on hold anymore. I want more than he’s willing to give me. You know I want a husband and kids, and I know I won’t find those things with Dale, so I’m moving on.”
“Chris.” I fall into him, wrapping my arms around his cape-covered shoulders. “I’m so sorry.”
“Me, too, but this is life. Sometimes shit sucks for a while, and then later on, when you’re feeling good and happy, you realize why you had to go through what you went through. You realize if you hadn’t, you wouldn’t have had a chance at that happiness you’re feeling.”
“Do you think this new guy will give you that happiness?” I ask, holding onto him.
His arms tighten around me. “I don’t know, but I’m willing to find out.”
“I want that for you,” I tell him truthfully. I know how much he wants a family and kids, and I want that for him. Really, I just want him happy, however that comes about.
“Ditto, baby girl,” he whispers, kissing the side of my head before letting me go and looking at me. “Now seriously, cut my hair. I’ve got places to be and shit to do, and if your next client comes in before you’re done and you try to kick me out of your chair, I will throw a diva tantrum to end all diva tantrums.”
“Oh, all right,” I mutter, giving him a grin before I finish his hair. As he leaves, I make him promise to call to tell me every single detail about his date. Once he’s gone, it’s already 12:30, and luckily my next client shows up on time fifteen minutes later, so I’m able to get her wash, cut, and blow out done before it’s time for Ellie and me to head over to the bank.
Standing with Ellie at the front of the bank, we share a nervous look. I know we’ve been pre-approved, but today we talk to the loan officers and find out exactly what will happen next.
“Hey, guys. They’re ready for you. Follow me,” Christy, the bank manager, says, leading us down the hall toward the back of the bank.
Feeling Ellie’s hand find mine and give it a squeeze, I squeeze hers back before walking into a large office. There are two desks stationed in front of each other and a circular table on the other side of the room, with two women I know sitting on one side with three empty chairs across from them. Seeing the women, I smile. It’s Selma and Sejla, Ellie’s clients from the salon.
“I didn’t know you guys were working on our loan.” Ellie laughs, walking around the table to hug both girls.
“We didn’t know either. Kirk was supposed to handle your case, but he’s been out sick for a few days,” Selma explains as she gives me a hug.
“Have a seat, girls. I think we may have some amazing news for you,” Sejla says, motioning us to the empty chairs.
“You two are in good hands. If you need anything, let me know,” Christy states before she gives us a smile and leaves.
Taking a seat, I watch Selma and Sejla work in sync, which isn’t surprising, because they are twins. I imagine twins, who are as close as they are and spend as much time together as they do, would practically share the same brain.
“You guys have been approved for the loan,” Sejla says with a smile, pushing a paper across the top of the desk toward us.
“You’ll notice we were only able get you approved for your loan amount and an extra thirty thousand,” Selma adds, pointing out the final figure with the tip of a highlighter before running over the number with the hot pink color. “We know it’s not what you were asking for, but hopefully it will be enough to do some renovations. We’re thinking that if you come back in a few months, you should be able to get the rest of the money if you still need it.”
“Holy shit,” I breathe, looking at Ellie’s and my name in black lettering on the paper. “This is really happening.”
“It’s really happening,” Ellie agrees, and I turn my head to look at her smiling face then she throws her arms around me.
“We’re going to own our own salon,” I say, hugging her, and she leans back to look at me.
“Yes, and it’s going to be the best fucking salon in all of Tennessee by the time we’re done with it.”
“It is,” I agree as she takes her seat once more.
“Have you thought of a new name, or are you keeping it the same?” Selma asks, looking at the two of us, and I shake my head. I still can’t believe this is real. I don’t think I’ll be able to think about a name until my new reality hits me.
“Color Me Wild,” Ellie says, and I swing my head in her direction.
“Color Me Crazy.”
“Yes!” She laughs, throwing her head back. “Color Me Crazy, that is so perfect.”
It is perfect, and this is really happening. Ellie and I are going to own our own shop. Holy shit! I want to call Sage and tell him my good news.
“All right, now that the exciting part is done, we need to sign papers,” Sejla inserts as she pulls out a stack of papers from a folder.
“That can wait a second,” Selma states, looking at me. “First, tell us what is happening with you and your guy.”
Laughing at that, I tell her and Sejla about Sage and me, and by the time I’m done, they are both wearing smiles that match my own.
Sage
PULLING UP NEXT to Kim’s car in front of my house, I park and head up the walkway, carrying the bottle of champagne I picked up on the way home. Kim called this afternoon, yelling into the phone that she and Ellie had gotten approval for the loan for the shop. As happy as I was for her news and the fact she called me before anyone, I couldn’t really talk, so I told her we’d celebrate when I got home.
I unlock the door and push in and am instantly assaulted with the smell of garlic and something else I can’t make out. Dropping my keys to the table, I head down the hall toward the scent, and the sound of Ed Sheeran playing in the background along with Kim’s horrible singing over the top of it. Stopping at the threshold where the kitchen and hall meet, I stop to enjoy the show.
Kim is in the kitchen, standing in front of the stove with a wooden spatula to her mouth as she sings a sad song about a man losing his woman and wanting her to be happy, even if it’s not with him. That man was obviously a fucking idiot, or he had never felt what I feel for Kim. I don’t want her happy with anyone else; I want her happy with me. Call me selfish, but it is what it is.
Walking around the long peninsula that divides the kitchen from the living room, I come up behind her, realizing only then that her eyes have been closed. The second my hand comes to rest on her waist, she screams at the top of her lungs and spins around to face me with a hand to her chest.
“Easy,” I say quietly as I watch her chest heave.
“You scared the crap out of me,” she accuses.
“Sorry,” I reply, watching her pull in a breath before letting it out slowly.
“It’s okay. I just didn’t hear you come in or even notice you. You’re pretty damn light on your feet for such a big guy. That must be useful with your job,” she mutters, and I laugh.
“It helps,” I agree, dropping the bottle of champagne to the counter behind her before I pull her against me. “Congrats on the loan.”
She smiles, but I only see it for a second before I drag her up my body and place my mouth on hers. Kissing her like a man starved, I lick and nibble at her mouth until I feel her nails dig into my skin through my shirt, and then I force myself to slow the kiss. Pulling back and looking down at her, it takes a second like it always does, but her eyes open to meet mine.
“You stopped,” she complains, and I grin.
“You’re cooking and I need a shower.”
“Oh.”
“What are you making?” I ask, looking over her shoulder into the pan behind her.
“Zucchini and pasta fried in olive oil and garlic.”
“Sounds good,” I lie, and she grins at me knowingly.
“The penne still need to cook, so if you want to shower, you have time.”
“All right. When I get out, we’ll open the champagne.”
“I…” She bites her lip then shakes her head. “I don’t drink.” Frowning, I realize she doesn’t, or at least I’ve never seen her drink. I’ve always assumed it was because she was driving. “I’ll watch you drink it.” She smiles, tipping her head to the side while pressing her hand against my chest. “You should go shower. I need to put the pasta in,” she urges with a smile, but her expression is off, making me wonder what the hell that’s about.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, why do you ask?”
“Nothing.” I shake off the feeling that she’s lying. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“Don’t rush.” She gets up on her tiptoes, touching her lips to my jaw. “The food will keep.”
With a jerk of my chin, I touch my fingers to her waist and leave her in the kitchen while I head down the hall. Pausing halfway to the bedroom, I turn to glance over my shoulder and see her pick up the bottle of champagne to look at it for a moment before she drops it to the counter. With a shake of her head, her shoulders droop forward.
What the fuck?
Spinning, I start back toward her to ask what the hell that reaction is about, but before I make it there, the doorbell goes off.
“I got it, babe,” I say, walking past her when she turns around.
“Okay,” she agrees, picking up a box of pasta from the counter and dumping the contents into a pot.
Heading down the hall, I move to the door and open it. I don’t know who I’m expecting to see on the other side, but I’m sure as fuck not expecting my parents to be standing in my doorway, my dad carrying a bag and my mom holding flowers. “What are you guys doing here?”
“Apparently, we drove all the way out here to celebrate,” Dad mutters.
“Stop being a jerk.” Mom hits his chest.
“Baby, our son has his girl at his house. She just got good news. Do you really think he wants us here?”
“Yes,” she snaps then her eyes come to me. “You want me here, right?”
Fuck me.
“Mom, you know you’re always welcome.”
“See? I’m always welcome,” she says, turning her head to glare up at my dad.
“Our boy isn’t going to tell you that you ain’t allowed at his house, Sophie.”
“Kim’s family’s not here, and I want her to know she has people close that are proud and excited for her. Can’t you just entertain me for a few minutes?” Mom snaps as she moves past me into the house. Looking at my dad for help, he shakes his head.
“I’ll try to get her out of here as soon as I can,” he says, patting my shoulder as he follows my mom down the hall toward the kitchen.
Sighing, I close the door and follow behind them.
“Sage didn’t tell me you guys were coming. I would have made more food if I had known.” I hear Kim say as I walk into the kitchen to find her and my mom hugging.
“We didn’t tell him. We just wanted to come by to say congrats. Lilly called to tell me this afternoon that you and Ellie got the loan,” Mom chirps, giving Kim the flowers she brought in. “I also brought cake. Nothing says celebrating like chocolate cake.”
“This is so nice. Thank you,” Kim whispers, giving my mom another hug before giving my dad one. “Maybe I can just add a little more pasta to the water,” she suggests as she starts to move toward the stove with the flowers.
“Not necessary, honey. We’re not staying long,” Dad inserts, and Kim looks up at him as my mom narrows her eyes.
“Are you sure?” Kim asks, setting the flowers on the counter, and I move to her side and wrap my hand around her hip.
“They have plans, babe,” I say quietly, and Kim nods while I feel my mom’s eyes burning into me.
“I’m taking Sophie out to dinner,” Dad states, backing me up.
Mom places the cake on the island next to the flowers before she looks at him and asks, “Really, where are we going?”
“We’ll figure it out on the road,” he tells her, and her eyes squint a little.
“At least stay for the cake,” Kim cuts in, and I fight back a groan.
“You don’t mind?” Mom asks, looking at her, and Kim shakes her head.
“Of course not.”
“Of course not.” She smiles at my girl before looking at my dad and me triumphantly. “Did you hear that?”
Knowing it’s useless to put up a fight, I press a kiss to the side of Kim’s head and move to the cabinet, where I grab plates and forks while my mom opens the box the cake came in. After that, I spend the next hour and a half with Kim and my parents eating cake and drinking champagne. Really, my mom drinks the champagne by herself, so by the time she and my dad leave, she’s half wasted and my dad has to carry her giggling out of the house.