"Delicious as always, dear girl."
"Great!" Just as I was about to head into the hair chat, she turned her head to the side and caught a glimpse at Stefan.
"And who might this be? I don't recall seeing him before. Has he replaced my sweet Kari?"
Stefan flashed a smile at her, and stood to shake her hand.
"Oh no, Mary-Ann, this is a very old friend of mine."
She carefully assessed Stefan as he took her hand in his. "I'm Stefan Harrison, ma'am. Greyson and I go far back and I just wanted to stop by and see her."
Mary-Ann gave a genuine grin back, but when she turned her head my way I didn't miss that look. The same one every mother got when they understood a situation far beyond the way their child explained. In that single glance I felt our entire relationship play out in her eyes. Every stolen kiss, every accelerated heartbeat. Nothing was hidden and it was making me extremely uncomfortable.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Stefan. And none of that 'ma'am' nonsense, you just call me Mary-Ann."
"Pleasure to meet you as well, Mary-Ann. Do you mind me sticking around while Grey does your hair?"
"Absolutely not, young man. It would most certainly be a nice little treat."
"Excellent!" Stefan clapped his hands together. My first thought was that he had to be putting on a show to stick it to Kacie. When he sat back down and caught my eye there was no mistaking that whole-hearted excitement. In that instant I knew it was no game for him, he wanted to be here. Stefan may have been claiming his territory where I was concerned earlier, but now that was far from the truth.
"So, what are we thinking for your hair today?" I asked, trying to bring focus back to Mary-Ann and get my head out of the clouds.
Taking a few pieces of hair forward she examined it, shaking her head in irritation. "I still stand by my stance to not dye it, so we can at least eliminate that."
"Wait, your hair isn't dyed that way?" Stefan budded in.
Mary-Ann was one of those women that was naturally blessed with beautiful hair. Soft ash blonde was the color she had since the day she was born. In the sun it picked up natural highlights and as she aged strands of white-gray mixed in with the rest. People frequently assumed the hairdo was salon colored, but Mary-Ann was happy to correct them.
"Haven't put a drop of dye in my hair and after this long, I'm sticking to it."
"Absolutely! My mother has been doing tons of damaging things to her hair, since she was about ten. Now it takes copious amounts of product to keep it from looking like an electrocuted poodle is resting on her head." Neither of us could hold back our laugh.
Stefan's depiction of his dear mother wasn't far from the truth. The few times I saw her before she put the effort into taming her mane, I was scared. It wasn't just that Emma Harrison dyed her hair one too many times. Oh no. Every month it seemed a new color was added to hers, or she would invest in a perm, but a couple weeks later go in for a relaxer treatment because she hated the curls. Emma went to a salon more than any one person should and until Stefan brought it up I had completely forgotten.
Mary-Ann swiveled in her seat to catch sight of my persistent laugh.
"You said the two of you were old friends. Did you know his mother?" I nodded, regaining composure, breathing in deep breaths to fill my lungs back up.
"Oh yeah, and that visual is the most accurate way to describe her."
"Remember the first time you stayed the night and the next morning you were in the kitchen getting a glass of juice?" Stefan asked and the memory whooshed back in and once again-I lost it. My hand flew to my stomach to make the laughing cramps cease. Mary-Ann beamed at me and turned her attention back to Stefan.
"What happened?"
He let out a chuckle, shaking his head at me. "I was in my room down the hall trying to wake up a bit. All of a sudden I hear this shrill scream and the sound of glass shattering. I bolted from my bed, ran down the hall and entered the kitchen ready to fight a burglar or something. Instead I see Grey with one hand over her mouth and the other over her stomach. Then I saw my mother, hands on her hips glaring at her; with facial gunk caked onto her face and this mad scientist look happening with her hair."
Mary-Ann threw her head back and joined into my nonstop laughter.
Stefan watched the way we responded to his story and continued on. "I asked if everything was alright and my ma said that apparently she scared my poor girlfriend with her face. And trust me, there was nothing but irritated sarcasm behind my mom's words."
"Is that why you went into hair, Grey? Were you trying to keep women's hairdos from terrifying you every day?" Mary-Ann asked and I bobbed my head.