“What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if someone claims to have faith but has no deeds? Can such faith save them? Suppose a brother or a sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to them, ‘Go in peace; keep warm and well fed,’ but does nothing about their physical needs, what good is it? In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead.”
~ James 2:14-17 ~
1
Alani O’Dwyer swept locks of trimmed hair into a pile on the tile floor as she hummed along to the melody of “White Christmas” that drifted from the salon’s surround-sound speakers. Outside the shop’s front window, snow flurries danced through the air as traffic eased along Main Street. With Thanksgiving a mere memory, December had pranced in and Christmas now perched nicely on the holiday horizon. The increase in clientele at Lani’s Styles and Smiles Salon over the past several days claimed proof of Boulder Creek’s excitement over the impending celebration.
“Here comes your five o’clock,” Chloe Connolly called from the wall-length front display window as she laced a strand of mini-lights around a showcase of upcoming advertised products. “And he looks like he can use a bit more than a trim and shave.”
“He?” Though it was not unusual for men to frequent the salon, Alani didn’t recall adding anyone of the male persuasion to the appointment register for this afternoon, nor did she remember penciling in any clients past the four-thirty slot. Friday evenings were usually light as far as customers went, and she could almost always count on closing up shop before dark. “Who booked him?”
“I did.” Chloe positioned the last of the lights around a pair of jumbo-sized color-shield shampoo and conditioner pump bottles and then turned from the window to face Alani. Her dangly earrings caught the overhead light, enhancing wide set eyes the color of faded denim. Dark, choppy bangs slipped across her forehead to frame an oval face. “He called in a few minutes ago, and I just couldn’t say no. He’s a hardship case.”
“A hardship…” Alani lifted her gaze to the glass and her breath caught at the sight of Ryan Connolly loping along the boulevard. Long limbs moved fluidly as he slanted his head slightly right, then left and right once more in a cursory check for oncoming traffic before he stepped from the curb and crossed over to the salon’s walkway. Midnight-black hair—a little too much on the longish side for Alani’s taste, peeked from beneath a toboggan that set off the electric-blue of his eyes. “Oh, no…you’ll have to take this one, Chloe. After all, he’s your brother.”
“No can do…not today.” She shook her head as she glanced toward the closest mirror, briefly studying her reflection. “I’m expected at the convention center in an hour to prep for the fundraiser tonight, and I still have to head home first to get glammed up.”
“But you can’t leave me in a lurch. I can’t…I won’t—”
“It’s a haircut and a shave, Lani.” Chloe shook her head as she lifted a hand to inspect the shimmery-red polish on her nails. “Good grief, I don’t know which one of you is more hard-headed than the next. You know Ryan has a thing for you. Why don’t you just give him a chance?”
“A thing?” Alani lowered her voice so as not to distract Mrs. Wexell, who was flipping through a magazine near the coffeemaker as her salty-gray hair adapted to the hairspray shield Lani had applied to ensure each strand remained in place until next week’s visit. Mrs. Wexell proved as steady as the morning sunrise; Lani could count on fixing her hair every Friday at 3:00 sharp. “I did give him a chance—once—and you know how far south that ship sailed.”
“That was years ago, Lani. People change.”
“I know, because I’ve changed, and I’m not going to fall for your brother—or any other guy—again. FYI…I’m not interested in a thing—or a
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