Another eye roll, but only because we were on the phone. Holly didn’t tolerate eye rolling in her presence, especially if it was directed at her. “Go find another couple to live vicariously through. Jude and I are officially off-vicarious-limits.”

“Repeating. I’m a single mom. The only thing that’s more unlikely than getting laid is making friends with another couple I can live vicariously through.” Jude went off like a siren again. She let him go this time. “And now I’m officially an unemployed single mom,” she said with a sigh.

“What?” I said, sitting up on the couch. “You got fired from the salon? You’ve been there for years. What happened?”

She cleared her throat. “I may or may not have ‘accidentally’ mixed up hair dyes. I ‘might’ have applied bright green hair color to a customer who also happened to be my brother’s ex-girlfriend, who became an ex after screwing half the county’s male population behind his back.” I could hear the sly smile in Holly’s voice. “It was a total coincidence.”

“Of course it was,” I deadpanned.

“Anyways, my boss said coincidence or not, a stylist mixing up platinum blond for neon green was a fireable offense.”

“Please. Like every stylist doesn’t have a similar story,” I said. “At least your ‘coincidence’ came with a swift kick in the ass from karma to your cheating client.”

Holly chuckled. “This is why I called you, Lucy. I know cheer isn’t really your thing, but you always manage to cheer me up whenever I need it.”

“Cheer aside,” I said, “I’m glad I could help.”

Holly replied back with something, but she was drowned out as little Jude beat on something that sounded like drums. Or cymbals. Or something that was up to the task of making my eardrums ring.

“So what are you going to do now?” I asked, after the musical explosion in the background ended.

Another sigh from Holly. “The only other ‘salon’ in this town, and I use the word loosely, is Supercuts,” she said. I could see her cringing. “And since I can’t afford to have any pride when I’ve got milk and shoes to provide for a little man, I already stopped by to see if they were hiring. That would be a whole lotta nada.”

This time, I sighed with her. “That sucks, Holly. You’ve worked so hard to be independent and provide for little Jude . . .”

“My mom was right all along. From the time I was a little girl she always told me I was destined for not-so-great things. She predicted I’d be knocked up and on food stamps before my nineteenth birthday.” She paused, her voice lower than normal. “Knocked up before nineteen, food stamps a few years later. It feels supergreat knowing I’ve lived up to my mom’s expectations.”

“Oh, Hol,” I began, feeling useless from all the way across the country. I wanted to give her a big hug, make her a cup of tea, and figure this thing out. If she was here, I could do more than offer empty words.

And that was when an answer of the genius quality came to me.

“Move in with me.” The words were out a moment after the idea had popped in to my mind.

Holly was silent on the other end. So silent I had to check to make sure the call hadn’t failed.

“What?” was her response.

“You heard me,” I said in a hurry. I was getting more and more excited with the idea. “Pack up your stuff and fly out here. You can live with me rent free, and there are a ton of salons within walking distance where I’m sure you could work.”

More silence. “And little Jude?”

It took me a few moments to figure out what she was asking. “And there’s nothing little Jude can do to this place that could possibly leave it in worse condition than it already is.” I was surprised, and a little hurt, that she thought she’d have to ask about little Jude. They were a package deal. I wouldn’t invite one without the other.

“You’d do that?” she said, followed by a sniffle. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought that stonewall Holly Reed was close to tears. “You’d really let a crazy, destructive caveman and me move in with you?”

“Hol,” I said, “I’ve been sharing this place with a crazy, destructive caveman every weekend for three years, until he got himself drafted and moved across the country. I’ve got a caveman vacancy that needs to be filled ASAP.”

The little caveman picked that time to scream, “I’ve got to go poo-poo, Mom!”

“You know how to go to the bathroom on your own,” Holly replied.

“I can’t get my pants off!” was little Jude’s reply. “I need your help!”

“I’ll be there in one minute!”

“See?” I said through my laughter. “He’ll fill Jude’s caveman shoes perfectly.”

“I love you so hard, Lucy,” she said. “I don’t know what I’d do without you and Jude.”

“Please. You’re the toughest girl I know. You’re a fighter, Holly. You’d be just fine.”

“Boy, have I got you fooled,” she replied softly. So much like Jude. Long stretches of tough, interrupted by brief glimpses of vulnerability.

“You know, if you need any money to get you by . . .” I began, clearing my throat. “Your best friend just landed himself a pretty decent job, and I’ve got some money saved up, too. All you have to do is ask, Holly.”