Leslie's Curl & Dye Page 7

  "Well, I don't see how this is Quincy’s fault. With a rise in population, there should be a rise in businesses to serve them." My eyes rolled at how hard Mama stanned for Mayor Adams. She voted for him at every election— like she had a choice, since he often ran unopposed. But even if he had been opposed, she'd never vote for anyone but Quincy Adams. Even if he was putting her daughter's livelihood at stake.

  "Mama, the only reason there is a rise in population is because there is a rise in businesses. People didn't just up and decide to relocate to Potter Lake. It's not a response to anything but the Mayor and this city wanting more money. I don't know how they expect me to pay the tax bill with no business."

  "Maybe somebody should say something to him," Daddy suggested.

  "Or maybe y'all should get your heads together and put some work behind wanting to stay open."

  "Says the woman who would rather close her doors than go against the Mayor."

  Mama spooned up another dollop of mashed potatoes, then tossed the spoon back into the pot, splashing the table with potatoes. "Excuse me for being loyal to the man. Mayor Adams has led this city through leaner times the these and he's been good to us. Yes, we're uncomfortable, but it'll pass."

  "I'm just— "

  A knock at the front door cut off my growing tirade, and just in time. When mother turned red and started gripping her fork in her fist, she was gunning for an argument and didn't like to lose. I scooted my chair back from the table and rose to escape the tension filled room.

  "I'll get that. It's probably Tam. We're supposed to hang out tonight."

  "Oh, tell her to come have some dinner. I think Gina is working late tonight."

  I ducked out of the kitchen, glancing at the driveway through the living room window. I expected to see the sporty two-seater Tamera had been driving for a few years. But it wasn't Tam's car in the driveway. And it wasn't her at the door.

  "Uh... hey."

  I pulled the door open and stepped back so KC could step inside. A wave of cologne that smelled more delicious than dinner followed in his wake. He pulled a fitted cap off of his head and ran a palm over his waves.

  "I didn't realize you knew where I lived."

  "Yeah," he said. "My mind isn't everything it used to be, but it's not that bad."

  "Ah huh. You've been back, at least in this general area, for over a year. You know where I live but I hadn't seen you until the other night."

  KC grinned. "Aight, my bad for not coming to say hello. I didn't think you wanted to see me. And it looks like you still don't, but I was hoping to talk to you about something. About the Mayor."

  My eyebrows rose and my lips curled into a scowl. "We were just talking about him at dinner. He's not my favorite subject."

  "Mine either, right now. I'm hoping that since we both have an axe to grind that you could help me out with something."

  I laughed. Actually guffawed. Out loud. Kade Cavanaugh, owner and proprietor of the business that was burying me alive, wanted me to help him with something. "I've never heard anything more hilarious, KC."

  "I know, it's a big ask. And you don't have to say yes. But maybe after I explain what's going on, you can see past... everything and we can work together."

  I was still chuckling, but I led him back outside to the porch. The sun was setting and the breeze blowing through was nice. I dropped into Pops' chair and let him sit in Grandy's old chair. Maybe her spirit would come through and smack him upside his gorgeous head.

  "You have five minutes. And then I'm kicking you off my porch and going back to my Mama's meatloaf."

  He glanced back at the house and smiled. "Is that what smells so good?"

  "Four minutes, fifty nine seconds. Fifty eight. Talk."

  "Alright, alright." He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his sleeveless shirt showing off miles of rippling muscle. He wore basketball shorts that put his powerful thighs and legs on display. And on his feet were Aris athletic shoes, the brand he repped.

  "So, I'm sure you know that the Mayor told us that we'd get money and all kinds of deals for coming out here, living out here, opening up a spot." He glanced at me, the question written all over his face. I was well aware, and salty because none of the existing businesses were being offered anything of the sort— not a discount, not a penny off.

  "My spot has been open for over a year. And for the last six months at least, I’ve been on the Mayor to make good on his promise. It hasn't happened. And it won't— at least for me, and I suspect every person that picked up sticks and moved to Potter Lake based on his promises."

  "Mkay. So this affects me how? Are y'all throwing a tantrum, packing up and moving away? You want me to take my clientele back without attitude? That can be arranged."

  He chuckled, shaking his head. "Not exactly. Because at the same time that he's building up over there, he's telling all of us that there's nothing here on this side of the lake. Last weekend when I was over here, I saw for myself that that's not true. He's purposely keeping people off of this side of the lake."

  "Mmmhmm. Essentially killing us. That's old news, KC. Three minutes; my dinner's getting cold."

  "This is important. Can we be real? And serious?"

  "I'm being real serious. You have a problem and you want me to acknowledge it. When I had a problem, you said, uh, I ain't mean to shut y'all down, my bad, but listen to how busy my shop is." I sucked my teeth and angled myself away from him. "If you think a bone in my body feels sorry for you, think again."

  "I don't want you to feel sorry for me. I want you to see the underhanded games this man is playing. I want to bring this up to the city council next week. I called today and put myself on the agenda. I'm going to try to get a bunch of people from my side together to sit in on the meeting. I was hoping you would do the same for your side."

  I shook my head. "You don't know these folks over here. Mayor Adams could set fire to their homes himself and they'd still think he was the greatest thing since sliced bread. Only a few of us see through his smiling and baby kissing and glad handing."

  "That's what I heard. He's run unopposed for years. But that could change."

  "Wait...wha— " I cackled, almost screamed in laughter. One of those gut level laughs you couldn't even breathe through. "You... you think you could go against the Mayor in the next election?"

  "Depending on how this meeting goes, I might think about it. Somebody has to do something, Leslie."

  "Interesting how somebody has to do something, now that your business is in jeopardy. Fuck mine, though huh?"

  KC's head dipped, his chin in his chest, shoulders slumped. "I don't know how to go back in time and fix... everything. If I could, I would. But I'm doing something now and believe it or not, I want both sides of this town to thrive."

  The front door squeaked, announcing Mama hanging out of it. "Leslie, I told you to tell Tamera to come and get something to..." Her eyes grew wide with surprise and she came out onto the porch. "Well. Hello, young man. Why is Leslie hiding you out on the porch?."

  KC stood, removing his cap again. He offered a hand to my mother, which she shook vigorously. About as vigorously as my eyes rolled at how she was fawning over him.

  "Ms. Lee," he drawled, the southern gentleman coming out in him. "I don't know if you remember me–”

  "Oh, of course I remember you. Leslie's friend from over there at the University." She pointed off to the left somewhere, as if that was even in the direction of Healy U. "And then, of course everyone knew who you were after you started playing for the NBA. I'm not a basketball fan but I sure loved hearing the talk around town. It's good to have you back. You all done on the courts, then?"

  "Yes, ma'am. I had a bad knee injury that hit at the wrong time. I cut out while I was still young and could do something else with my life."

  Mama nodded, just grinning up into his face, halfway in love with the man. I was ready for this day— and this visit to end.

  "KC was just leaving. Came to deliver some
news and he has to go. Right, KC?"

  "Oh, well are you hungry? I could make you a real good meatloaf sandwich to go, with some potatoes on the side."

  The grin KC gave her could light up the night sky. Never ask a single man if you can feed him. It was like feeding strays.

  "That sounds amazing, Ms. Lee. I would appreciate it."

  She nodded, grinning wider on the way back into the house. "I'll pack it up for you right quick. Leslie, maybe he would like some tea?"

  I glared at KC, arms folded across my chest, hoping all of my annoyance was evident on my face. "Do you want some tea?"

  KC glanced over at me, then almost jumped back at my expression. "I guess not."

  "So, what is it that you want me to do?"

  He resumed his seat next to me and slid the cap back over his head. Every moment was driving parts of my body absolutely nuts. The sooner he could get off our porch, the better for us both.

  "I need some support. I need to know that folks over here feel the same way I feel. The same way some of the folks over on the other side will feel, as soon as they find out there's no money coming. I need the city council to see who they have leading the charge and if they don't know, they should know. And if they know and are doing nothing, they need to be replaced. And so does the Mayor."

  "And if he doesn't step down? And he runs for re-election in October?"

  "Then he might have some competition."

  "From you? Need I remind you how loudly I laughed at that idea a few minutes ago?"

  "Why couldn't I? The leader of this country has no idea what he's doing."

  I stopped laughing, the smile falling from my face. "That's not even funny, KC."

  "Where is the lie, though? If he can do it, I can."

  "I don't think it'll be that easy."

  "I'm not saying it'll be easy. It'll be better than being swindled by a crook."

  The front door swung open again. We both stood and KC accepted the well-packed sandwich and sides in a brown paper bag. "I had some sweet potato pie left over from the fundraiser last weekend. I cut you a big slice and put it in there, too."

  "Mama, you’re feeding him like he ain't ate food in a year. You see how big this man is?"

  "It's okay, Ms. Lee,” he said, cutting his eyes at me. “It'll get eaten, every bite. And I'll send your containers back, too."

  "You do that. You headin' out?"

  "Yes ma'am," he answered, one hand on the handle to the screen door. "Leslie, I hope we'll talk soon."

  "We'll see," I answered, then went into the house and back to my dinner plate, leaving my mother to send him off.

  A few moments later, I heard the faint rumble of the Escalade start up and pull out of the driveway. I was suddenly ravenous, with a need to keep my mouth full so I couldn't answer any questions about that nice, handsome young man.

  Chapter Eight

  Leslie

  * * *

  "What could we offer, that would make people come in?"

  Tamera tapped a shellacked nail tip on the side of an aluminum can. She'd cleaned the dinner plate Mama made for her and was relaxing on my couch with a Lime-a-Rita. I thought they were nasty, but she’d brought them and I didn't want to insult her choice of drink.

  The living space above the garage that could barely be called an apartment had always been meant for my grandparents, but Pops' knees and Grandy's stroke meant that they needed to be in a bedroom on the ground floor. They took my old room when I moved away to Chicago.

  When I came back to Potter Lake, I moved into the apartment. I had my own living room, bathroom and bedroom and a few nooks and crannies for storage. I used a small refrigerator for odds and ends I liked to keep cold. A two burner stove, a tiny sink and a microwave for the occasional bag of popcorn made up the kitchen. I ate most of my meals in the house with the family.

  "Like, they know we do hair, but we do other stuff too. I do nails and eyebrows all the time. And Evonne and Gisela learned a bunch of stuff at the beauty school. Surely they have skills we can offer."

  "But they're leaving soon. I don't want to start counting on them and then they pull out."

  "And then take their talents to Guys N’ Dolls." She pursed her lips and scrunched up her nose. "What about spa services? We could offer a discount on something with a cut or a color."

  "Threading? Massage? What's that hot rock thing?"

  "Hot stone massage. We don't have the room for that."

  "Hmmm…” I shoved a well-chewed nail into my mouth and chewed on it some more. “Body waxing is still popular. I saw some sugar waxes in the catalog. I could order some."

  She groaned, slouching lower on the couch. "I already don't want to look at Ms. Paulette's feet. Don't make me look at anything else on her."

  I laughed just as I took a sip. I choked on half a swallow of a too-sweet tasting beer and margarita concoction. "Okay, I didn't want to say anything but let's never get these again. It was bad going down and bad stuck halfway down my throat."

  "Agreed," said Tamera, handing me her can so I could pour it out along with mine.

  I opened the living room window and dumped the cans into the yard down below. When they were empty, I dropped them into a bin I used to collect my recycling. "I'll take the unopened ones to work. Maybe those two drink that crap."

  "What services does KC's crew offer? If they can do we can do it. Maybe cheaper."

  "Men get a cheap haircut, women get the bare basics. No spa services. Wash, cut, press and curl. Don't even think about a color that's not on a box of L’Oréal or Dark & Lovely. Remember he said he needed stylists who could work with chemicals? I told y'all— somebody's hair is gonna fall out."

  I opened a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of wine. Tamera grinned and clapped, then hopped up to open another cabinet where I kept clear plastic glasses. She pulled out two and set them on the counter so I could pour.

  "So, he's not even offering anything unique and people would rather go over there because he's new?" She picked up both cups and walked them over to the couch and coffee table. "I don't understand it."

  "Well, there's also the added benefit of him being a hometown hero of sorts...a small town celebrity. People feel like they're supporting his new career by giving him business."

  "A lot of women with stars in their eyes, hoping to be the next girl on his arm. I don't understand that." Tamera took a long, indulgent swallow of wine and tipped her head back with a sigh. "I wonder if he's tapping into that, at all. You know... groupies?"

  I wrinkled my nose and sipped my wine. "What brought that to mind?"

  She lifted a shoulder in a casual shrug, like she didn't bring it up just to watch me squirm when I thought about it. "Just thinking out loud. But I guess we would have heard it, if he was."

  I nodded. The Curl & Dye was still the hub of the rumor mill. That and the Kit Kat Lounge, a bar over on the edge of town. Don't ever let anyone tell you that men don't gossip. Pops comes home with new juice every time he goes in there.

  I hadn't planned on talking about it, because KC wasn't Tamera's favorite subject, nor was he her favorite person. But I had to get it off my chest. Talk it out. Make a decision. Help him? Or fight him?

  Besides, she brought him up.

  "So, KC came by here tonight." I wasn't even looking at her and I sensed the wrinkle appear in her forehead. "He wanted to talk about Mayor Adams."

  "He came by here? To your house? To talk to you?"

  "Yes, yes and yes. About the Mayor. You know how we always suspected the Mayor promised those folks a bunch of money if they'd move to Potter Lake? Well, KC confirmed that; except he got told today that there's no money. So he and however many people that have relocated their lives to this town on some kind of promise are up Shit Creek."

  "And this affects us how?"

  "That's exactly what I asked. He's going to bring up the subject at the next city council meeting. He said he was working on rounding up people on his side of the lake and he wanted me t
o work on rounding up people over here."

  "Round us up? What do we need rounding up for? We going to a rodeo?"

  "He said he's demanding to speak to the city council about the Mayor's underhanded dealings. And, he says that if the council doesn't respond, he's thinking about running in the next election."

  It was Tamara's turn to choke and cough. When she could breathe, she nearly screeched, "He's going to go against the man that’s been Mayor of this town for as long as I can remember?"

  "He might be out of his mind but he's doing it anyway. Compared himself to the President. Said if he could do it, it could be done."

  "We don’t need Potter Lake to become a dumpster fire. That's scary."

  "It is. I can imagine everything that could go wrong. But..." I eyed Tamera, knowing she wasn't going to like what I was about to say. "I'm thinking of doing it. Not so much to help him. But to at least get our thoughts and feelings out there in front of the city council. Maybe they'll listen to us."

  "And if they don't?"

  I smiled. "Then life is about to get real interesting, here in Potter Lake."

  By 10 o'clock, Tamera was happy and loose but not drunk. We’d snacked on popcorn while we watched the latest episode of The Suitor, a long running dating competition show. It was old and tired, after ten seasons on the air, but that had never stopped us from watching it.

  "If she doesn't kick Anthony off next week, I'm going to throw something," she'd said, grabbing the handles of her small satchel and threading it over her arm. It settled in the crook of her elbow. "I know he thinks he looks like Boris Kodjoe but he doesn't. And his attitude isn't winning him any favors."

  We'd been watching The Suitor since it premiered and even when I lived in Chicago, we had a phone date to watch the show together. Dexter, my ex, thought we were crazy, but getting that call every week and cackling on the phone with my best friend made some of the homesickness go away. On the weeks the show didn't air, or Tamera had something going on, I was more melancholy and there was nothing he could do to bring me out of it.