Free Home Is Where Your Boots Are by Kalan Chapman Lloyd Page A

idea to give her a break. So , I’d talked about my need for a haircut instead.
    Mama had quickly made me an appointment with her hairdresser. Barbie had styled my hair from the time I was two until I’d moved to Dallas. I’d even driven two hours from Oklahoma State  once a month after I’d left town. She knew everything about me. She knew everything about me and Cash. Everything.
    Her shop was on Main Street like most of the other businesses in town. It lay across from the town square, diagonal from Daddy’s office, and two doors down from Mama’s. It took me thirty seconds to get there from my own office, and as I walked in the door , the chatter fell silent. The blue hairs under the dryers stopped clucking to inspect me. The young girl at the manicure station ended her cell phone call without saying goodbye, and heads being sheared swiveled to see what the fuss was about, one definitely screwing up her new cut.
    Having spent my breakfast mulling over what Amber’s dad had told me the day before, I was grateful for a reprieve. Nothing like a good haircut to put things in perspective. After Mr. Ronnie had left, I’d run straight to the bathroom. I’d desperately wanted to turn him down when he asked for my help. But this was Brooks , and I was Lilly Atkins , and he was like a third father to me (following close behind Fae Lynn’s daddy). So I’d agreed to poke around. I wasn’t sure what or who I was going to poke or what I might find, but I’d promised to try.
    I took a deep breath and smiled as I headed toward Barbie’s chair in the back of the shop. Barbie spotted me and swept me up in a hug as I reached her.
    “Lilly Atkins! Come in here, girl!”
    “Hey, Barbie. How goes it?” I said with a grin.
    “It goes,” she answered with her own smile.
    “Sit your skinny butt down in this chair and give me the scoop on what everyone’s been jabberin’ about for the past two days,” she said around a pink wad of gum.
    “You mean the vandalized car at Chester’s the other night? I will swear a solid oath that I did not hang a dead skunk on that man’s antennae,” I said with a deadpan expression as I sat in her chair and she snapped a cape on me with a flourish.
    “You know good and well I’m talking about Cash Stetson and what he was doin’ in your office. It’s all these women in here have been talkin’ about all morning. I almost called you myself to get the scoop, so they’d shush up,” she prattled on.
    You know, they talk slower in Texas. I mean, we’ve got a drawl, but it’s a bit rushed. You gotta be quick to keep up with an Okie. No wonder I was always two steps ahead of Van.
    “Well,” I said slowly as Barbie started looking at my roots and ends. “He’s getting a divorce.” Barbie rolled her eyes and waved her comb in dismissal.
    “Well, big fat duh, sugar. That part we’ve covered. That info’s bout two weeks old. It’s what you two were doing in the vicinity of each other that’s got everybody talkin’.” I started again.
    “Well, he’s getting a divorce,” I paused here for dramatic effect and watched everyone’s head tilt in my direction, “and he needs a lawyer.” I finished matter-of-factly , while the crowd glanced around in puzzlement at each other.
    “And … ” Barbie prompted me to go on. Exasperated, I looked Barbie in the eye through the mirror.
    “And I’m a lawyer.” I supplied. Realization dawned in her eyes.
    “Oh my,” she chortled, laughing and patting my shoulder. “Lilly Atkins as Cash Stetson’s lawyer, I love it,” she continued to giggle. “Then you are gonna need some good lookin’ hair. This blond streaky stuff just ain’t gonna cut it.” I had been enhancing my hair with some golden highlights , and apparently Barbie didn’t approve. “Sugar, I know us Southern women love our blond, but there comes a point when it crosses over to the trashy side. You’ve crossed over , honey,” she stated without sentiment or