It was strange to see my own bare cheeks again. And the groomed look highlighted how overgrown my hair had gotten. So, I reached into the drawer where I kept a pair of trimming scissors.
Here goes nothing.I could always go for a crew cut if I messed it up too badly.
Fifteen minutes later, I stepped back to survey my work. Not bad, if I did say so myself. It wasn’t even lop-sided.
Opting for a nice pair of jeans and a light vee-neck sweater this time instead of a t-shirt and holey jeans, I got dressed.
As I descended the stairs it occurred to me—Bonnie would notice the drastic change in my appearance. Would she think it was for her sake?
A nervous tremor started in my belly. Of course, it wasn’t for her.
Was it?
No. No way. I’d try anything to cure my writer’s block, and if a shave and a haircut would do the trick, any wrong assumptions she might make would be a small price to pay.
Mrs. Potts entered the foyer just as I reached the bottom of the staircase.
“Well, well, don’t you look handsome?” Approval glowed on her face. “Miss Bonnie’s going to think she’s come to the wrong house today.”
I felt my freshly uncovered face heat up and no doubt darken a shade or two. “This has nothing to do with her. I was just ready for a change.”
“And a nice change it is.” Mrs. Potts patted my left cheek. “It’s good to see your face after so long.”
“You might not say that when you get a look at all the hair in my bathroom. I tried to clean it up, but the stuff got everywhere.”
She grinned. “It’s worth a few extra runs with the vacuum to see your smile again.”
I quirked my head to the side, confused. “You couldn’t see my smile with the beard?”
“You can’t see what’s not there. You’ve smiled more in the past day and a half than you have in months.”
Her hands went up in a defensive gesture, anticipating my protest. “I know, I know, it has nothing to do withher. Butwhatever’sbrought it on… I like it.”
I might have argued the point further, but the doorbell rang. This time I didn’t let Harrison get it but went to open it myself. Bonnie stood outside, of course. Today she wore flat shoes with a belted navy wrap dress that accentuated her curves and momentarily made me forget to speak.
When she saw me, her eyelids flared, and her jaw dropped, causing her mouth to form a perfect little O.
“Oh! Jack. You… wow, you look… different.” She didn’t say anything further, just stood and stared.
I rubbed my clean-shaven jaw, feeling self-conscious. “Yes. I shaved. Please, come in.”
I stepped back, letting the door swing wide so Bonnie could enter. She did, never taking her eyes from me, staring as if she’d never seen a man’s face before. Or maybe my haircut was crooked after all.
Since she apparently wasn’t going to speak, I did. “Did you… want to talk in the library today?”
Bonnie blinked a few times. “No. No thank you. I think we’ve determined you’re not a library guy. You’re a walk-and-talk-outside guy. Maybe we could go to the beach? I wore better shoes for it today.”
“Sounds good.”
I led her to one of the back doors. There was a large sun terrace running along the rear of the house, and from it, a path down to the beach.
As we stepped outside, I noticed it was cooler than yesterday, and clouds hung low in the sky, blocking the sun.
“Did you bring a jacket? You could wear one of mine, though it’ll be huge on you,” I offered.
“No thanks. I’ll be fine. I’ve lived through twenty-eight New York winters, you know.”
Ah.So she was twenty-seven or twenty-eight. I’d been wondering how old she was—not that I’d been thinking about her constantly since she’d left yesterday or anything. I was strangely pleased to learn she was close to my own age of thirty-two instead of being obscenely young. It was sometimes hard to tell with women.