Five Flavors of Dumb - Antony John [67]
I didn’t know if it was the reality of the situation hitting home, or simply the fact that Kallie was being nice to her, but Tash was struggling to hold it together. She took deep breaths, swallowed hard, and stared out the window like she’d only just noticed the scenery, but Kallie never let go of her hands.
I sipped my coffee, savored the heat from the mug and the warmth of the café. Outside, wind slapped at the windows as gulls fought to hold steady. The fresh smell of salt seemed to seep through pores in the glass. All around us the world kept spinning, but we were caught in a moment of perfect stillness: Tash and Kallie crossing an impossible divide through the simple step of forgiving.
“Thank you for saying that,” said Tash finally. “I mean it. If you’d told me you thought there was a chance, I’d have ...” She stared at her hands, entwined with Kallie’s. “I think it’s time to move on, you know?”
No one spoke as I added my hands to theirs, but I like to think we all felt the same thing at that moment. Out of the ashes of Dumb, something far stronger and more wonderful had arisen than any of us would have dared to imagine.
I wouldn’t have minded if we’d stayed that way, but Tash didn’t seem to be in the mood to lose an entire afternoon to silent introspection. She said she needed a pick-me-up, and that we could get free lattes at her mom’s salon. And because I was feeling reckless I said count me in, never for a moment considering that coffee was the last thing on Tash’s mind.
CHAPTER 38
Tash’s mom obviously missed the class where they teach would-be moms about careful language selection and modest clothing. She hadn’t gotten the message about blond highlights being a uniform for middle-aged moms either. In fact, she seemed to be competing with her daughter for the most-outrageous-looking award. And make no mistake about it: She was holding her own.
Her name was Cassie, she said, and if we called her Mrs. Hartley or Tash’s mom, she’d have to beat the crap out of us. She said it just like that, as if it were perfectly reasonable, while Kallie and I exchanged anxious glances.
Cassie’s salon was pristine, with banks of mirrors on every wall, and swirls of burgundy and gold paint embellishing all remaining surfaces. At the cashier’s desk, an elderly lady blew kisses to Cassie and her fellow stylist, before exiting with shimmering red hair.
I watched the old lady leave, wondering how on earth she’d chosen Cassie’s salon. But then I noticed Cassie watching me, and I could tell she’d read right through my thoughts, so I smiled and busied myself looking at a book of hair dye swatches on a nearby counter instead.
Once she’d cleaned her station, Cassie wandered over to me and signaled for me to join the others. Tash had obviously told her I was deaf. Equally obviously, she’d been thinking about what she was going to say to us.
“I saw the interview this afternoon, and I’m very disappointed,” she began, addressing all of us, not just Tash. “You’re all mature enough to know that if a situation makes you uncomfortable, you should just get up and leave. You don’t have to stand for anything, and you sure shouldn’t attempt to correct things with a few punches.”
Tash bristled, but Cassie shut her down with a single cocked eyebrow.
“All the same, I’m pleased you three are still together. Don’t let the pricks divide you, you know?”
I wondered if I’d misheard her, or read her lips incorrectly, but no—Cassie was just that forthright.
She clapped her hands. “All right, sermon over. On to business. As Tash has obviously told you, I don’t take appointments on Tuesday afternoons because I’m supposed to sort out the accounts. But on a day like this, accounts can wait. Ty needs to be available for walk-ins, though, so it’ll just be me. Now which of you two wants to go first?” she asked, waving her finger back and forth between Kallie and me.
I couldn