“True, but I’m serious, I give them a week at the most. Especially after Karl and Regina come to town. He’s coming to dinner, and you know Karl hates all guys but you and Karson. She cares so much about what he thinks. She’ll drop him and, boom! You swoop in.”
“Those drugs are working well on you,” he said dryly and she laughed.
“Yeah, I really do see life in a different light. It’s supercool.”
“Very true, almost like being sober, I guess,” he agreed.
“I bet,” she giggled and Jordie grinned.
“But okay, let’s say I wait, and I will ’cause she’s the girl you wait for. But then, please explain to me, what in the ever-loving fuck do you mean by ‘woo her’?”
“Seriously, Jordie?”
“No, really, I have no clue what that is.”
“Woo her! Buy flowers and chocolates with little hearts taped to them. Like court her?”
“Lacey, come on. We live in the twenty-first century,” he deadpanned. “Do people even woo anymore?”
“The men who want their women do! Karson is great at wooing.” She pointed out. “I love his wooing.”
“Because he’s a pansy-ass,” he mumbled, but before she could say anything, he laughed. “No, but really, what do I do?”
“I don’t know, like, be romantic and shit.”
“What’s the shit?” he asked, confused.
Before she could answer him, Mena Jane started to cry and Lacey fumbled with the phone. “Crap, let me call you back. She just exploded shit all over me.”
“Joys of motherhood. I’ll see you at home,” he said before they both said bye and he hung up. He was two seconds from Googling “wooing” when he glanced at the time, noticing that he needed to get inside. It was hard to get an appointment with Billy Ray, and he didn’t accept lateness. Rushing out of the truck, Jordie made it inside with the bell ringing, just in time.
Billy Ray looked over at him and grinned. “JT, long time, buddy.”
Billy Ray was an older guy in his mid-sixties, but acted as if he was in his early thirties. He was bald with dark black eyebrows and a beard that went to his chest. The guys always teased him for not being able to grow hair on his head but only on his face. He didn’t care though. He rocked that beard and nothing held the guy back. He was also an Assassins’ season-ticket holder, and everyone went to Billy Ray. He was a good dude and cut hair to perfection.
Wrapping him up in a manly hug, he squeezed Jordie tightly before they parted. “Where ya been? No calls? No flowers? Do I mean nothing to ya?”
Jordie grinned. “Busted leg and then a stint in rehab, hence why I look like Jesus on the cross, as my buddy’s wife said,” he admitted. And unlike everyone else, Billy Ray wasn’t the least bit surprised. He didn’t laugh or give him a look of disappointment. He just nodded.
“I always knew you’d end up there. You just had to realize you needed help.”
“Wasn’t me. Elli made me.”
“Or she’d make you,” he said with a grin before tapping the seat in front of him. “Ya look like hell.”
“True, but I feel good,” Jordie said, sitting down. “But yeah, I look like hell ’cause I won’t let anyone touch me but you.”
“So attached,” Billy teased, putting the towel around Jordie’s neck. “So ya glad you went?”
“Very much so.”
“Good boy, I’m proud of you,” he said, running a comb through Jordie’s hair. “So tell me everything; I have a lot of hair to cut and shape up.”
He then went to work as Jordie told him about his leg, getting healthy, Mena Jane, and moving back home. He left out Louisiana, mainly because he was embarrassed by it. Like the amazing barber he was, Billy Ray commented on some things and just listened to others. As time passed, Jordie watched as the old Jordie soon looked back at him. The only differences were his eyes were brighter, he didn’t look like death, and he didn’t feel like it either. He was feeling like the person he wanted to be.
Now, he just needed the love of a good woman.
“Just a regular clean hairstyle? Or you feeling frisky?”
Jordie grinned. “Let’s do a Mohawk this time.”
“Frisky it is,” Billy Ray agreed before going to work. “How’s that girlie girl of yours?”
Karson made a face. “I told you about Kacey?”
“Um, yeah,” he said, looking back at him in the mirror. “Man, were you drunk all the time?”
“Basically,” Jordie said with a laugh. “But things are a little up in the air.”
“Really? You seemed pretty smitten with her.”
“I was, but I lied to myself and pushed her away,” he said, closing his eyes. He then explained the whole thing, thankful that the shop was completely empty. It was embarrassing enough to think about his mistakes; admitting them was much worse. When he finished, Billy Ray was standing there, the clipper by Jordie’s head as he stared at him in the mirror.
“So you knocked her up and then ignored her?”
Jordie nodded.
“Man, you did mess up,” he said, simply shaking his head. “I wouldn’t take you back.”
“Me either,” Jordie agreed and Billy Ray laughed.
“But if she’s anything like my Sarah, she’ll forgive you and take ya back.”
“Those drugs are working well on you,” he said dryly and she laughed.
“Yeah, I really do see life in a different light. It’s supercool.”
“Very true, almost like being sober, I guess,” he agreed.
“I bet,” she giggled and Jordie grinned.
“But okay, let’s say I wait, and I will ’cause she’s the girl you wait for. But then, please explain to me, what in the ever-loving fuck do you mean by ‘woo her’?”
“Seriously, Jordie?”
“No, really, I have no clue what that is.”
“Woo her! Buy flowers and chocolates with little hearts taped to them. Like court her?”
“Lacey, come on. We live in the twenty-first century,” he deadpanned. “Do people even woo anymore?”
“The men who want their women do! Karson is great at wooing.” She pointed out. “I love his wooing.”
“Because he’s a pansy-ass,” he mumbled, but before she could say anything, he laughed. “No, but really, what do I do?”
“I don’t know, like, be romantic and shit.”
“What’s the shit?” he asked, confused.
Before she could answer him, Mena Jane started to cry and Lacey fumbled with the phone. “Crap, let me call you back. She just exploded shit all over me.”
“Joys of motherhood. I’ll see you at home,” he said before they both said bye and he hung up. He was two seconds from Googling “wooing” when he glanced at the time, noticing that he needed to get inside. It was hard to get an appointment with Billy Ray, and he didn’t accept lateness. Rushing out of the truck, Jordie made it inside with the bell ringing, just in time.
Billy Ray looked over at him and grinned. “JT, long time, buddy.”
Billy Ray was an older guy in his mid-sixties, but acted as if he was in his early thirties. He was bald with dark black eyebrows and a beard that went to his chest. The guys always teased him for not being able to grow hair on his head but only on his face. He didn’t care though. He rocked that beard and nothing held the guy back. He was also an Assassins’ season-ticket holder, and everyone went to Billy Ray. He was a good dude and cut hair to perfection.
Wrapping him up in a manly hug, he squeezed Jordie tightly before they parted. “Where ya been? No calls? No flowers? Do I mean nothing to ya?”
Jordie grinned. “Busted leg and then a stint in rehab, hence why I look like Jesus on the cross, as my buddy’s wife said,” he admitted. And unlike everyone else, Billy Ray wasn’t the least bit surprised. He didn’t laugh or give him a look of disappointment. He just nodded.
“I always knew you’d end up there. You just had to realize you needed help.”
“Wasn’t me. Elli made me.”
“Or she’d make you,” he said with a grin before tapping the seat in front of him. “Ya look like hell.”
“True, but I feel good,” Jordie said, sitting down. “But yeah, I look like hell ’cause I won’t let anyone touch me but you.”
“So attached,” Billy teased, putting the towel around Jordie’s neck. “So ya glad you went?”
“Very much so.”
“Good boy, I’m proud of you,” he said, running a comb through Jordie’s hair. “So tell me everything; I have a lot of hair to cut and shape up.”
He then went to work as Jordie told him about his leg, getting healthy, Mena Jane, and moving back home. He left out Louisiana, mainly because he was embarrassed by it. Like the amazing barber he was, Billy Ray commented on some things and just listened to others. As time passed, Jordie watched as the old Jordie soon looked back at him. The only differences were his eyes were brighter, he didn’t look like death, and he didn’t feel like it either. He was feeling like the person he wanted to be.
Now, he just needed the love of a good woman.
“Just a regular clean hairstyle? Or you feeling frisky?”
Jordie grinned. “Let’s do a Mohawk this time.”
“Frisky it is,” Billy Ray agreed before going to work. “How’s that girlie girl of yours?”
Karson made a face. “I told you about Kacey?”
“Um, yeah,” he said, looking back at him in the mirror. “Man, were you drunk all the time?”
“Basically,” Jordie said with a laugh. “But things are a little up in the air.”
“Really? You seemed pretty smitten with her.”
“I was, but I lied to myself and pushed her away,” he said, closing his eyes. He then explained the whole thing, thankful that the shop was completely empty. It was embarrassing enough to think about his mistakes; admitting them was much worse. When he finished, Billy Ray was standing there, the clipper by Jordie’s head as he stared at him in the mirror.
“So you knocked her up and then ignored her?”
Jordie nodded.
“Man, you did mess up,” he said, simply shaking his head. “I wouldn’t take you back.”
“Me either,” Jordie agreed and Billy Ray laughed.
“But if she’s anything like my Sarah, she’ll forgive you and take ya back.”
