Haircut and Highlights E-Book

Janie Owens

• Herausgeber: Next Chapter
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 298

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Beschreibung

Abby, the owner of Goldilocks Hair Salon, is shocked when she finds blood at the entrance of her salon. She has a soft spot for a homeless woman named Rose, who she wants to rehabilitate. But Abby fears the blood found at her salon may belong to Rose, since the woman slept there and now has disappeared.

Determined to find Rose, Abby becomes an amateur sleuth, but is discouraged by Jack, a Daytona Beach Police Sergeant. While their relationship blossoms, in the wings is the handsome neighbor and fireman Mark, who has a knack for being present whenever Abby gets into trouble.

Relationships become complicated when a young employee becomes pregnant and one hairdresser doesn't view Rose quite the same as Abby. Despite intrigue, danger and being stalked, Abby maintains her bright outlook and wisdom. Readers will enjoy the times when some characters from the author's 50-Plus Condo series visit the salon.

The first book in the Daytona Beach Mysteries series, 'Haircut and Highlights' is a mystery involving love of humanity, coming of age and romance, with a touch of faith.

Leseprobe

HAIRCUT AND HIGHLIGHTS

DAYTONA BEACH MYSTERIES

BOOK 1

JANIE OWENS

CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Next in the Series

About the Author

Copyright (C) 2022 Janie Owens

Layout design and Copyright (C) 2023 by Next Chapter

Published 2023 by Next Chapter

Edited by Tyler Colins

Cover art by Lordan June Pinote

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the author's permission.

Thank you, Miika and Next Chapter, for being so great to work with!

ONE

Her hand shook slightly as she stuck the key into the lock and pulled open the door. What had she done? Only invested into her heart and soul. Abby Bugsly stepped inside, glancing around the narrow room. Four booths, two on either side, were lined up in military order, the black chairs appearing to salute her arrival.

Abby tossed her keys on the curved desk that would meet customers. A collection of chairs was placed to the left with a round table in the center, sans magazines. Note to self: subscribe to magazines. She walked across the work floor to the back, noting the mirrors were perfect, nothing chipped. The stands attached to the wall underneath were in very good condition, which she had noticed when she inspected the property a week ago.

As she passed the two black shampoo sinks on the right, she made note of the storage room to the left, and then a white washer and dryer. On the other side, behind the shampoo bowls, was the pedicure room, and behind that, the breakroom for employees. The salon was well laid out, although small. And clean. That was important. No one wanted to get a haircut or their nails done in a shabby salon.

The downtown area had been on sorry times recently along Beach Street. Most of the building owners decided to place a new façade across all the businesses along the street and paint their buildings in different bright Florida colors. A good deal was promised on the rent for the first year to entice new businesses to occupy the buildings that were vacant. The rent was dirt cheap, so Abby had no problem with the price.

Back at the front again, she eyed the wall beside the desk. That was where her licenses would be displayed. But before that action, she had to start placing orders for supplies. She couldn’t run a salon without hair color, shampoo and conditioner, and a multitude of other essentials. And employees. Abby pulled her cell from her purse, heaving that onto the desk. Some of the girls who used to work here were attempting to work from home she had been told. Abby had their numbers. Her intent was to contact each one to see if they had any interest in returning to the salon. She crossed her fingers and toes they were willing. She walked behind the desk and sat on the stool, preparing herself for a potential letdown, yet hopeful some were willing.

Abby hadn’t lived in Daytona Beach, Florida, for several years. She’d had a stint at marriage and moved to Tampa. Moving to Tampa had been a disaster, along with the marriage. Daytona Beach was her hometown and where her heart was happiest. At first, she had stayed at a B&B that a friend of hers operated not far from the salon. Angie Barnes, now Forbes since her marriage, had offered her a room at a reduced rate until she found a place to live and landed a job. But when she discovered a salon among the cute shops along Beach Street, she decided to open her own. The bonus had been the availability of an apartment on the third floor of the same building. It didn’t get better than that, living above her business.

“Hi, I’m Abby Bugsly and I am opening a salon on Beach Street, the one you worked at. I was given your name as someone who might be interested in returning.” Abby paused for a response.

The woman at the other end of the conversation said she was pregnant and didn’t want to stand on her feet all day.

“Oh, okay. Well, nice talking to you,” Abby said. She punched in the numbers for the next person, receiving another disappointing answer. “Okay, number three, here we go.”

She repeated her name and asked to speak to Sonia, since a man answered. When Sonia got on the line, her English was quite broken, making the conversation strained.

“Yes, I am located at the same salon you worked in. Uh-huh,” Abby said as she listened carefully to the woman speak. “Oh, you are? That’s wonderful. I plan to open in one week. Is that good for you?”

Apparently one week was perfect for Sonia and she was excited to return to her old job.

“Yippie!” Abby cried out loud. “I have one employee.” And that was it. No one else on the list was available or willing to return. Now what?

Abby stuck her head out the door, looking both ways. She needed a cup of coffee. She locked the door and ventured down the street on a hunt to satisfy her craving. She glanced across the street at the fire station, followed by the yachts fastened to the dock. Such wealth! Way beyond her expectations. But the scene was nice to look at, and the breeze coming from the river was cool and refreshing.

“Hey, there,” she heard and turned to see where the voice had come from.

An older woman dressed in clothes reminiscent of the 1960s was standing by the door to the next shop. The name of the place was Memories. “You renting that place?” she asked with a poke of her thumb in the direction of the salon.

“Yes, I am,” Abby answered. “I’m Abby Bugsly.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Bobbi Bell,” said the woman, coming closer. “This is my place. I sell everything that’s old, cutesy, and makes you feel nostalgic. And some antiques. Real ones, not knockoffs.“

“How nice. I’m a hairdresser looking for work, so I ended up opening this place,” Abby said with a nod of her head toward her shop. “I need employees, though.”

“I can put you in touch with someone. Her name’s Ivy Snooks. My niece.” Bobbi pulled out a pen and wrote the contact information on the back of her business card. “Real sweet kid.”

“Thanks, I’ll call her.” Abby took the card, slipping it into her jeans. “I’m off for a cup of coffee.”

“Two doors down is a deli. Coffee’s pretty good there.”

“Okay, I’ll check it out.” She took a few steps, then turned toward the other woman. “Nice to know you, Bobbi.”

Bobbi nodded her red curly head and smiled.

Abby went inside and met some of the staff at the deli. Once she returned to her shop, she called the number Bobbi had given her. “Hi, yes, I’m Abby Bugsly. Your aunt gave me your number believing you were looking for a position in a salon.” She listened intently as the obviously young woman on the other end of the line got excited at the prospect of working for her. “Yes, tomorrow will be fine to meet. Right next door to your aunt’s place. Okay, goodbye.” Maybe she had two employees.

* * *

Abby rose the next morning with a positive attitude, anticipating something good happening. This will be a good day, was her thought as she made her way to the kitchen.She poked the “on” button of the coffee maker, then did what she needed to do in the bathroom. Her kitchen ran into the living room, with a narrow hallway to the right where the bathroom was. The bedroom was across from there, with a smaller one next to the bathroom. She didn’t need the second bedroom, but it came with the apartment. Each room was spacious, yet the place had a cozy vibe. So far, she liked living here. The rent was good, and the neighborhood was decent. She hoped to make friends with some of the shopkeepers.

She slipped on blue jeans and a blue tee, sliding her feet into brown sandals. That’s when she caught sight of her toes and realized she needed a pedicure. A salon owner couldn’t walk around with crummy feet. Bad advertising. Abby put on enough makeup to get by and pulled her blonde hair into a ponytail. After she stuck hoops into her ears, she eagerly poured a cup of coffee. A bagel with cream cheese was her breakfast. And coffee. Abby loved coffee. Then she went downstairs to her business. What a great commute!

* * *

Later, when Ivy opened the door to the salon, Abby was surprised she looked so young.

“You must be Ivy?”

“Uh, yes, that’s me,” she said with a nervous smile.

“I’m Abby. How old are you?”

“Nineteen.”

Abby quickly realized that Ivy couldn’t have much experience at that age. That meant she wouldn’t have a following, which was important for a salon. She handed the young woman a clipboard with an application attached. “Please fill this out, Ivy. You can sit over there.”

She nodded toward the waiting area. While Ivy filled out the form, Abby wondered about the other applicant. Would she have a following? She hadn’t worked in this salon since it closed. Maybe she had kept her clientele by working from home. Abby could only hope.

“I’m done, Miss Abby.” The chubby girl handed over the clipboard and waited while

Abby glanced at the application. It didn’t take long because she didn’t have any work history. “Let’s sit down.” Abby moved to one of the chairs. Ivy sat across from her. “So, you just graduated from beauty school, I see. You have not had any experience in a salon, correct?”

“No, ma’am.” Ivy started chewing her lower lip, looking wide-eyed and innocent. Her red hair was too bright to be her natural color. It was common for girls going through beauty school to mess around with color. She had experimented, too, back then. “But I worked at the school, doing heads. I cut, colored. I was pretty good doing feet and hands. I did perms, too, but that’s not my strong point.”

“I don’t think it starts out as anyone’s strong suit. No worries.” Abby looked at her round face, so full of hope. Should she take a chance with this young woman? If she didn’t hire her, not only would she crush Ivy’s hopes, she would anger Bobbi in all likelihood. So much for a friendship there.

“Here’s the deal: you have no experience outside of school. Few salons will hire you being fresh out.” Ivy’s face crashed. Abby thought she might cry. “But I will. I will take you on as my apprentice.”

Ivy’s eyes bugged and she leaped to her feet, letting out a squeal of pleasure. Abby couldn’t help but smile over the reaction. “Thank you, Miss Abby. I’ll work hard.”

“I know you will,” she said, rising and embracing the girl. “Can you start next week?”

“I can start today.”

Abby laughed. “Well, I don’t have anything for you to do yet. My supplies are on order, but when they come in, you can help me set up. And I’ll pay you. How’s that?”

“Oh, that’s wonderful! I can’t wait.”

Abby thought Ivy was going to jump up and down. “Okay, then. Go next door and give Bobbi the good news.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Ivy grabbed her backpack and ran to see her aunt, slamming the door.

Abby would have to get used to being called “ma’am.” And “Miss Abby”. When did she get so old? Apparently, to Ivy, forty-two was old.

TWO

Rose

Rose Tumbler entered the facility begrudgingly. She didn’t want to be here but was giving it a try. The homeless were encouraged to stay at the new shelter, but she rather liked sleeping outdoors, and that wasn’t because she was a health nut or the outdoorsy type. No one told her what to do or when to do it. She was free to do as she pleased. In here, everyone was your boss.

“Any I.D.?” the stout woman asked from across the counter.

“Yeah.” Rose pulled out her driver’s license from a jean pocket and slid it over the counter to the woman, who wrote information on a form attached to a clipboard.

“This is your number. Don’t lose it,” she said, slapping down a laminated card in front of her. “You’ll be in the second cot by the windows. Over there,” she said, pointing in the proper direction. “The women’s bath is that way, and the kitchen is down there.” The woman continued to point.

“When do we eat?” Rose asked. She hadn’t eaten all day, not that it was unusual.

“Six. You’ll be evaluated in the morning. In the meantime, you can shower, eat dinner, and sleep here. Welcome!” Finally, she smiled, showing perfect teeth between her full lips.

Rose gave her a suspicious look, then nodded back. “Thanks.”

Rose walked toward the room with cots. It was a long room, painted an appealing shade of blue. After she found her assigned cot, she pushed the trash bag that contained everything in her world underneath. Another woman came behind her, claiming the third cot. Rose hesitated to look at her. You never knew how people were going to respond when you looked at them. She didn’t want any friends and she didn’t want trouble. Immediately, the woman started talking to herself and complaining. Rose suspected she was a little off in the head. Probably not on her meds. That was common behavior among the homeless. A plus-size and dirty woman with an attitude was no one Rose wanted to know. To avoid conversation, she left the area.

“Rose?” The woman at the counter called to her. “Do you want to schedule your appointment for tomorrow?”

“Sure.” She didn’t want an appointment. All she really had in mind was a shower, hot meal, and a safe place to sleep. Then she’d be gone. But at this place, you could only stay if you were in their program to be rehabilitated. Other homeless were camped just past the gate. Maybe that was what she should have done. But then she’d not been offered a shower.

“Ten okay?” the woman asked.

“Um, yeah.” She would have had breakfast by then and could make her escape. She gave the woman a slight smile, then moved to the showers.

“Hi, honey, would you like a shower?” The woman speaking was robust in build and had a pleasant expression.

Rose noticed her hair was pulled back in a low ponytail as she stood holding towels in her arms. “Yes, I would like that,” Rose said.

“What size are you?” she asked, looking Rose up and down. “Don’t look no bigger than a minute.”

“Six? I think.”

“Take these,” she said, handing towels to her. “I’ll get some clothes for you. Pick a stall. Shampoo and soap are in there.”

Rose turned to the second stall and started undressing. Pretty soon the woman returned with clean jeans, a shirt, a sweater for cold nights, socks, and underwear. She hung everything on a hook inside the stall.

“You got everything you need?”

“I think so.”

“Take your time. Dinner isn’t till six.” She left Rose to shower alone.

When the water cascaded over her head and body, Rose couldn’t help but let out a long sigh. She hadn’t had a shower since the one at the church downtown. That was a week ago, so she was rank. With her head sudsed up, she smiled over the pleasure of shampooing. The alluring scent of jasmine filtered into her nostrils. Such a trivial thing, but oh, such a wonderful experience.

When she finished, Rose put on clean clothes that fit pretty well. She stepped out to look at herself in the mirror hung over the sink. There she found combs wrapped in plastic, so she combed the knots out of her long brown hair and slid the comb into her back pocket. She actually looked presentable. Toothpaste and brushes were provided, so Rose brushed her teeth, then grabbed the toothpaste and brush for another time. As she left, Rose flung the towels into a bin. She hadn’t felt this good since before she went homeless.

There weren’t many women at the long table for dinner. Rose knew the shelter had only recently opened, so she thought that was the reason. Word hadn’t gotten around yet. And then there was the fact that some homeless had no interest in staying here, regardless of showers and food, plus a cot. The meal was simple, Beefaroni and a salad. Of course, there was bread, and apple pie for dessert. Everything smelled terrific the moment she sat on the bench. She always loved Italian food. The scent of basil and oregano lifted her spirits every time.

When Rose returned to her assigned cot, she noticed the number one cot was occupied. Her desire was to avoid contact with any of the occupants, so she crawled into bed after removing her shirt and shoes. She chose to keep on the jeans in case she needed to make a quick escape, even though they were cumbersome under the covers. When Rose rolled on her side in the opposite direction of number three, she noticed the clean smell of the sheets under her nose. This was heaven. Rose went to sleep with a smile on her face.

Around two in the morning, according to the big clock hanging on the wall, Rose was awakened by a skirmish—right over her. Apparently, while she’d been sleeping, number three and number one had gotten into an argument. Over what, it didn’t matter. All she knew was they were screaming and trying to slug each other while hovering dangerously above. She could see them grappling in the dim light and thought it was a matter of seconds before they collapsed on her.

A large man, followed by a woman, came flying into the room, calling out to them by name, not number three or number one. Rose scrunched herself tighter into the fetal position as the man and woman attempted to separate the women, one on either side of the cot. Once parted, the women were escorted from the room. Rose sat up, looking down the row of cots on either side. Only four others were occupied.

“Y’all almost got hit,” twanged one woman.

Rose shook her head, then turned over for more sleep.

* * *

In the morning, Rose cleaned up and had breakfast. A different woman at the desk saw her walking around and called out to her. “You Rose Tumbler?”

“Yes.”

“You have an appointment at ten with the counselor.”

“I know.”

“You’ll be there?”

“Yes.”

“Good for you.” She returned to a stack of papers on the counter.

That was her cue to leave.

Rose gathered her things, pushing the toothpaste and brush into her bag. She twirled the plastic thingy around the edge of the bag and hoisted it. Now, if she could sneak out without being seen …

She peeked at the front desk and saw the new woman messing with papers. Rose kept her bag to the side of the door so the woman wouldn’t see it. She walked to the water cooler, retrieved a cup, and filled it with water. While she drank, Rose eyed her surroundings. The front door was too close to the front desk, so it wasn’t possible to escape unnoticed with that woman behind the counter.

After several minutes, a tall nondescript man came from another room to speak to the woman. “I need you to verify what happened last night.”

“Okay.” She left her post to follow the man back to the room. As soon as they were gone, Rose sprinted to the doorway, grabbed her trash bag, and was out the front door within seconds, marching past those who were camping outside the gates.

“Where ya going?” one asked.

“Back.”

Rose made her way to the bus stop on Route 92 and waited for the next bus to roll by. She counted out some change for the fare. It wasn’t long before a bus stopped to give her a lift downtown. Once seated, she thought about the shelter. It was pleasant enough, but it wasn’t for her. She didn’t want to settle back into the real world. Not yet anyway. Maybe someday. For now, she wanted to return to Beach Street. That was where she lived. On the streets with other homeless people, nestled into a storefront during the night.

THREE

“How many times are you going to walk by and not stop in to say hi?”

The voice came from Abby’s left side. She turned her head to see the sign that said Cat’s Meow, with a formative black woman standing underneath, dressed in a long caftan in varying shades of yellow and orange.

“Oh, why hello. I didn’t notice you there.”

“Are you blind, honey? I’m big and brightly dressed. Even that blind homeless man across the street can see me standing here,” she said with a smirk, then a laugh.

“I, well, I was in a daze, I guess. Just thinking,” Abby said and smiled at the woman.

“Come on in here,” she invited. Abby walked through her door.

“Oh, my, look at you,” Abby said, glancing down to see a cat rubbing against her legs. He was a tabby with a loud purr. “Can I pet you?”

“If you don’t, he’ll not be happy,” the woman said, adjusting her yellow turban with both hands.

Abby reached out to pet the feline. “How’s the pretty boy?” The cat responded with louder purrs.

“I’m Latisha Fairfax. I own this shop.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Abby Bugsly. I’m opening the salon a couple doors down,” she said, offering her hand to the woman.

“Welcome to the neighborhood,” Latisha said, pulling Abby into an embrace. “I do hugs, not handshakes.”

Abby was all but smothered within the folds of the large woman. After the embrace ended, Abby asked what Cat’s Meow was?

“A little shop catering to cats and dogs, but mostly cats. I also hold adoption opportunities monthly. Do you have a fur-baby?”

“Oh, no. I live alone.”

“That’s really sad. No one should live alone.” Latisha pulled her head back to observe her more closely. Abby felt like she was being inspected. “I have three little ones that need a home. You’d be perfect for them.”

“Three?” How could she go from none to three? “I-I don’t think so. It’s been a while since I had a cat. Or dog. Actually, I prefer dogs.” She didn’t really but thought that might dissuade Latisha in her pursuit.

“Hmm. You look like a cat lover,” she said. “I know you love cats. I can feel it.”

The way the woman’s eyes were boring into her, Abby felt like Latisha could read her mind. “Maybe one?”

“One. Hmm. Follow me into the backroom.” Latisha led the way to the far reaches of the shop.

Abby passed fluffy beds of varying sizes, shelves of bagged food, leashes for dogs and cats, several rows of toys, carriers, litter boxes and litter, and clothing. Latisha was well stocked for any conceivable need.

Latisha pulled back a cloth curtain to reveal the stock room. And a litter of kittens. They became quite vocal after seeing humans arriving. One of them was solid black, another a red tabby, and the third looked like it was Siamese, but obviously not a purebred.

“Oh, look at you,” Abby said, reaching for the Siamese. “I love Siamese cats. I’ve had several.”

“Take her.”

“It’s a her?”

“Yes.”

“And I prefer females.” Abby sighed. She knew she couldn’t walk away from this adorable kitten. She looked at Latisha as she cuddled the fuzzy creature closer. “You got a deal.”

“You’re going to need some supplies,” Latisha said as she walked toward the front of the store. She grabbed a litter box as she passed by, and then a bag of litter from the next section. She returned down the aisle, snatching up a scoop, kitten food, two dishes, and a small ball. “This will get you started.”

Abby looked at Latisha with anxiety. “I sure didn’t expect to do this today.”

Latisha let out a loud, hearty laugh. “We never do.” She bagged the articles for Abby.

“What do I owe you?” Abby asked, placing the kitten on the counter as she dug into her purse for a wallet.

Latisha gave her a price, then slashed it in half. “And the kitten is free.”

“Latisha, that is too generous. I should pay you the full amount.”

“Nope. Not happening.” She gave Abby a toothy grin. “Welcome to the neighborhood.”

Abby took the kitten and the supplies to her apartment. She stuffed the litter box into a corner of the bathroom, then poured litter in, and stashed the bag in the cabinet under the sink. Abby introduced the kitten to the litter box, then left it in the bathroom with the door closed. She didn’t want it getting into trouble or harm.

As she arranged the cat food on a shelf and decided where to place the cat dishes, she asked herself what had possessed her to do such a thing? She didn’t need a pet. She had a business to run. But she wouldn’t be at the salon all day and night. There was plenty of time to spend with a kitten if she was being perfectly honest with herself. Besides, she didn’t have friends since she had left the area, she wasn’t in a relationship, so why not have a furry companion? Where was the harm?

Abby put food and water in the bathroom for the kitten, then returned to the salon. Sonia was due for her interview. When she entered the shop, Abby’s first impression was of a gregarious woman.

“Hola,” she said, waving her hand as she bounced in the door. Her hips were full under her jeans, her bosom more than ample in a snug red tee, and her overall fluid motion suggested a sensual woman.

“Hi,” Abby said. “I’m Abby Bugsly.”

“Hola, so pleased to meet you,” she said in a thick accent. “Ooh, it hasn’t changed,” she said as her eyes cast around the interior.

“No, I thought it looked good as is, so I haven’t touched anything.”

“Ah, no need,” she said with a wave of her hand.

Abby moved to a chair. “Let’s sit down, okay?”

Sonia sat across from her, as had Ivy. “Si.”

Abby handed the clipboard with application to Sonia. “Please fill that out.”

“Si.” Sonia began filling out the form. It didn’t take long before she handed the clipboard to Abby.

Abby looked it over. “You have good credentials. I like that you have various skills, too. It’s good to be diversified when business is slow.”

“Ah, si. I like to do many things.” Sonia sat erect with a smile on her face. Good posture. Pretty lady. The men will like her.

“I think you will be an asset to the salon,” Abby said with sincerity. “I plan to open next week. Is that okay with your schedule?”

“Si, gracias. I can let my clients know where to come.”

“Perfect!” Abby had to ask a couple personal questions. “Are you married? Children?”

“No married. Divorced. Two children, but grown,” she said, nodding her head. “You?”

“I’m divorced, too. No children, just a kitten.” She chuckled. “That I actually acquired today. Do you know Latisha?”

“Si, two doors down. I know.”

“Somehow I got talked into taking a kitten.”

“Umm. Anyone else working here?” she asked abruptly.

“Other than myself, a sweet young woman fresh out of beauty school. Her name is Ivy.”

Sonia rolled her eyes. “Oy.”

“I know, but I felt compelled to give her a start.” She felt the need to explain.

Sonia raised both hands and bent them toward Abby at the wrist. “Your business.” She stood to leave. “Adios.” And walked to the door, hips swaying. “See you next week.”

After the door shut, Abby sat back in the chair. Obviously, Sonia did not approve of her hiring Ivy, a newbie. Well, the poor girl had to start somewhere. A bang at the door interrupted her thoughts, then a man carrying two boxes burst in.

“You Goldilocks?” he asked.

The question made her grin. “Well, yes and no. Goldilocks is the name of the salon, not me.”

“Oh, sure. Where you want these?”

“Just toward the back,” she said, waving her hand in the direction. “Leave everything on the floor, please.”

The man laid the boxes down, then went back outside for more. When he was done bringing in boxes, he bid her a good day and left. Now, she had to unpack all the supplies and find everything a home. Abby reached into her pocket to pull out her phone. She dialed Ivy.

“Hi, Ivy. Can you come in tomorrow to help unload supplies?” Ivy answered yes, she would be there. “Wonderful. See you tomorrow.”

Abby locked the salon and went upstairs to her apartment. After all, she had a little one to care for now. When she entered, Abby could hear the kitten squealing for attention. She opened the bathroom door, scooping the cream-colored feline into her arms. Barely was there any indication of color on the ears or tail yet, with no color on the face. Only big blue eyes stared at her.

“Oh, precious one. Don’t cry. Mama’s here now. Yes, I’m your new mommy,” she said as she sat on the couch. The kitten purred like crazy and nuzzled into Abby’s chest. “What am I going to name you?”

Many names entered her mind, but none stuck as being the right one. She couldn’t tell by the absence of color if this was a chocolate or seal-point influence. Siamese didn’t develop color on the tips until later, many not coming into full color until they were almost two years old. But because the kitten was showing a tiny bit of color at such a young age, it gave her the clue it might be seal point since they are darker.

“I’m going with you being seal point. So, I’m going to name you Seely.”

The kitten made a “purp” sound, which Abby took as her agreement with the choice.

“Seely it is. Welcome home, Seely.”