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“You look like I just sucker punched you.” He didn’t say anything, and after a few moments, understanding dawned in those expressive eyes. “You’re not religious, are you?”
“Not anymore.”
He waited for her to ask him why, but again this beautiful, perplexing woman surprised him. “So, where do I find this barbershop-slash-video-arcade?”
“If you want, you can follow me into town, and I’ll introduce you to Hal.”
“That sounds perfect. Thanks.”
“No problem.”
She flashed him the kind of smile that made him more than happy to interrupt his day and give her a hand. The midmorning traffic was lighter than usual, and they found two spots right next to a single-story brick building whose swinging sign out front said Hal’s Barbershop. In the large windows, the owner had displayed posters of various hairstyles through the generations.
After commenting on the more humorous ones, the three of them headed inside. Bells over the door announced their arrival, and the familiar sound reminded Sam of his childhood. Clean and simple, the single room was painted a bright, welcoming shade of yellow, perfectly suited to the elderly man strolling through the rear door.
“May I help you?”
“I know we didn’t call ahead,” Holly replied, “but do you have a chair available?”
“I sure do.” Offering his hand to her, he added, “I’m Hal Rogers, and I’d know Daphne’s niece anywhere. And this young man,” he said, grinning down at her son, “must be Chase. She talks nonstop about you when my wife and I play bridge with her at our place, so I feel like we’re already old friends. What can I do for you?”
“Mom says I need a haircut,” the boy answered in a disdainful tone that clearly said he didn’t see what all the fuss was about.
Hal hummed, angling his head to examine one side of the kid’s head and then the other. With a completely straight face, he asked, “Which one?”
When Chase laughed, Hal turned to Sam and said, “See? The classics always work.”
“That’s ’cause kids haven’t heard ’em yet.”
“I have, Papa, and I still like them.”
Winking at a young boy reading in the waiting area, he said, “Thanks, Cody. It’s always nice to have a fan. Have you met Chase yet?”
“No, sir.” Without prodding, he walked over and offered his hand. “I’m Cody Rogers. Nice to meet you.”
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