He paused, giving me that look that always made me turn away. "About that-"

I didn't like his tone. The bad news voice. Was she his girlfriend? If so, how could I be mad? Hadn't I had the same chance? I wasn't ready to be with anybody-though my body kept sending signals to the contrary. "You don't need to explain. It's your store." And your life. I grabbed another handful of Altoids and stuffed them into my mouth.

That got a big laugh out of him. "Oh...so now it's my store? If I recall, I stole it from you." He tickled me again. The breath mints suddenly became an orange-flavored death knot in my throat.

"K-k-k." I was trying to say help, but that's how it came out. The letter K K. Figures.

He tapped my back. "Are you okay?"

I shook my head as the purples and peaches on the shelves melted before me. My knees buckled. My last thought?

Please, G.o.d, don't let me fall on him....

Pain exploded across my back as he slapped me across my shoulder blades. The choker gob of candy hit the floor. Right before I did.

"Dana! You all right?" Adrian went down with me and cradled my head on his knee. His gold cross dangled from his neck, grazing my nose. I took a deep breath of him, evaluating Adrian's new scent, as I always did in crisis situations. Leather, lime and new money. He smelled just like he looked. Suddenly choking half to death on a ball of breath mints seemed a totally wonderful thing to do.

"I'm okay," I whispered, thinking how strange it was that I actually did feel okay. Better than I had in weeks. Maybe I needed to freefall on my head more often.

He took a deep breath and kissed my forehead, then my cheek, then...he stopped himself. To say that I was disappointed would be an understatement. "That's what I get for playing with you. Your breath smelled fine-"

My finger touched his lips. Another mistake. "Hush, you. I'm okay. Really." I sat up and smiled, just to prove it.

"Scaring a guy to death. Is that any way to treat a customer?"

I dusted off my pants and stood. "I don't know. You'll have to ask the guy across the street. He's got them all."

"All except the one I want." Adrian held my hand so I could balance.

If my head wasn't already throbbing, I'd have swooned. We both shared a goofy look, then Adrian turned his head sideways a little. "Did you fall on your chin, too?"

I bit my lip, remembering how I'd yanked at my chin one last time to be sure right when he'd walked in. "No. Why?"

"There's something...I thought it was a scratch before, but it's a..." He narrowed one eye.

I closed both of mine.

G.o.d, please. If he just doesn't say it...

"It's a hair!" He shouted it as though the Candid Camera Candid Camera team were going to shoot up from behind the displays and start taping. Before I could convey my embarra.s.sment, he s.n.a.t.c.hed it out and laid it on the counter. "Got to get 'em at the root." He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket. "Here, get that blood." team were going to shoot up from behind the displays and start taping. Before I could convey my embarra.s.sment, he s.n.a.t.c.hed it out and laid it on the counter. "Got to get 'em at the root." He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket. "Here, get that blood."

I was still too stunned to speak.

He frowned. "What's wrong? Embarra.s.sed?" He smiled. "Don't be." He rubbed the top of his bald head. "I'm happy to see hair any way I can. Brings back memories. Mom used to get them all the time."

His beautiful mother? That did me in, and I doubled over with laughter. "You are just crazy-"

His face went blank.

I covered my mouth. Crazy Crazy still wasn't a word he was fond of. "I mean silly. Silly." still wasn't a word he was fond of. "I mean silly. Silly."

"It's okay." His smile reemerged. "I'm kind of over that."

"Right."

Another awkward pause. The bell jingled at the door. Adrian tapped the Altoids on the counter. "Is it safe to leave these?" he asked, starting to leave.

"I'd say so. That's the most fun I've had in weeks."

The customer, an older Jewish woman who came in for my talc.u.m-free powder every week-who could use a whole tube of powder every week?-entered the store.

Adrian chuckled, then paused. "The most fun you've had all week? Oh, Dane. Don't tell anybody that."

I snorted. He needn't worry. I didn't have time to tell anybody anything. Besides, wasn't he the one with something to tell me? "I won't. But hey, what were you going to tell me? About your, uh, employee?" I somehow felt ready to hear it now, whatever it was.

"There's nothing to tell really. Just that she's-"

The older woman turned and stared right with me.

Adrian moved a little closer to the door before finishing his sentence. "She's a single mom who came to me for a job. There's nothing between us. I just wanted you to know."

A sigh whistled through the older lady's lips and she wandered back to the lavender section. I stared at her for a second and did a little mental dance of my own. "No problem. That was nice of you."

He swung the door open. "Glad you think so. It's your sister."

"It's for my bedroom and master bath. The drawers, the sheets, the carpet. Lavender keeps everything fresh...and special, you know?" She tipped her head across the street and cleared her throat. "Have to keep things a little special, yes? That sister of yours, she knows that. But her eyes? Nothing good inside." She pinched my cheek and wagged it back and forth. Ouch. Ouch. "You? You are a good girl. You eat too much and work too hard, but you're a good girl. And he's a good man. Don't be stupid, eh?" "You? You are a good girl. You eat too much and work too hard, but you're a good girl. And he's a good man. Don't be stupid, eh?"

And with that, she waddled down the avenue. I stared after her. How had things got like this? The week before Naomi fired me, I'd given away all my houseplants. The thought of a relationship with anything plant, mineral or animal, let alone human, was totally out of the question. Between making soap and stuff, church, work...there wasn't time for anything. And I'd liked it that way.

Or so I thought.

Now there was Daddy, Jordan, Dahlia, Sierra, Jericho and Shemika, Roch.e.l.le and her...whatever he was. Sprouting like weeds everywhere. Just like my chin hairs. Without me asking, here they had all come, trampling my safe little world to bits.

G.o.d, oh G.o.d. Deliver me from myself.

I stared across the street at Dahlia's slim form. She bent over to get something and then she laughed. I closed my eyes. It was a performance I'd seen so many times before. Why did she always have to take anything-everything-I had? And why did the men in my life always seem willing give it?

I could almost hear what Renee would say-"He believed in you. Why think the worst of him? He's just helping her."

Reentering the day's numbers in my computer accounting program, I shook the thought from my mind. As usual, the accounts receivables and the accounts due didn't match. For some reason, the bank was still holding Tangela's last check. I'd been trying to call her...no matter. I had another of her ridiculous bridal functions this weekend. I'd talk to her then.

I closed my eyes for a second, remembering Adrian's lime-leather-money scent so close to my face. The bell broke my reverie. I'd never been so thankful for a customer. I swallowed when I saw it was Adrian. Again.

"This trip, I'm a customer. Sorry about earlier. I know I didn't handle that too well. I told your sister to come to you-"

I'll bet. "You don't need to explain. How can I help you?" I couldn't afford to get tangled up with him anymore today. My sister, either. I had work to do. I'd hash it out with Tracey this weekend. All of it.

For the next twenty minutes, Adrian walked the floor, ordering a little of everything. My everything. All the stuff I really love and personally use. I stopped every few minutes to crack my knuckles. Who was he buying this stuff for? Surely not me or he would have said it. We're open about gifts. Was he that into Dahlia already? Or was this to get back at me? Could he think Trevor and I really had something going on?

The possibilities alone made me tired. So I just didn't think about it, choosing instead to try to estimate the number of Weight Watchers points in a chocolate chip cannoli. Estimating got me in trouble, both with my waistline and my pocketbook, but guessing was always fun. Especially since it kept my mind off everything that was going on.

After emptying half my Fresh Facial cart, Adrian asked for gift wrapping. Okay, that sent me over the edge. I charged thirty-five bucks for gift wrapping a large purchase, because with only me here it's a pain to do. The brides get it free in their packages, and no one else ever wanted it. Except Adrian.

"If I do all this and you just hand it to me, I'm going to hit you," I said in a weak but hopeful tone.

All it earned me was a look of confusion. "You? Sorry, Dane." He cracked his wallet. "Do you want something?"

I shook my head. How stupid did that sound. I made the stuff!

"Some candles then?"

"No," I said, though my lemon pound cake votive stash was dangerously low. Dahlia had probably primed the wicks with gasoline in hopes of me buying some. I'd stick to choking on breath mints, thank you. I shook my head, wrapped the last gift and handed him his bag. I didn't know what he was up to, nor did I care. Well, a little.

He dropped the bag to the floor like an afterthought. Guys. Who could figure them out?

"Sorry I missed dinner Sunday. Did everything get straightened out?" He wiped away the sweat beading on his lip.

I stared at the thermostat. Seventy-three. Not hot enough for sweat. Did that mean he was asking about Dahlia and Trevor? How would I know if things were straightened out between them? He was the one working with her.

When I didn't answer, he clarified. "With Roch.e.l.le and Jericho, I mean."

"After you left church? It got a little ugly. Jericho got up and told everybody about Shemika and asked the church for forgiveness. Mother Holly fell out and started screaming."

He winced. "That bad, huh?"

Worse. "Pretty much. But once we got back to my house, somewhere between the catfish and the peach cobbler, people started acting civil again."

His lips formed a grim line. "Your Dad's food has that effect on people. Always has." I knew he meant the way his mom would chill out at those dinners, even when she was off her meds. I could still remember the fear in Adrian's face when the last song stopped and they all had to go home.

"Everything else got straightened out, too? For you, I mean."

For me? Which everything was he referring to? "As much as possible I guess. Some things just take time."

He looked away. "Tell me about it." With a smile, he leaned down for his bag and dug in his pocket as he straightened.

His handkerchief. Was he looking for it? "Your hanky is in the back. I washed it."

"Hanky? You are so cute." He took out his wallet. "This is what I was looking for." He tossed a hundred dollar bill on the counter. "Go get your hair done." Before I could comment, he added an identical bill to the pile. "Better yet, tell her to come to you. And get some rest. There's a lot going on."

A little too much going on if you asked me. I grabbed the bills without hesitation. If anyone else had done it, besides Roch.e.l.le and Tracey, I would have been insulted, but how could I argue the truth? My do had given up on the job long ago. I stuck my fingers in the bird's nest formerly known as my scalp, braving my personal safety to do so. "Microbraids, you think?"

He shrugged. "Whatever you want. Don't start trying to please me now." The smile he tried to hide escaped.

I snickered. "Try to please you? I'd never be so foolish."

He rolled his eyes.

"As if I'd know what you like anyway, mister."

He lifted the bag of his purchases onto the counter. "Oh, you know what I like."

My face got hot. I did know what he liked. Even with my hair. If he had his way, I'd take out my extensions altogether and get my real hair braided like I did all through high school. Mama hated it, but Adrian went wild over it. I always did, too, until two weeks later when it looked like...this. Hair just isn't my thing. I need to be free from dealing with it for months at a time.

He walked to the door for the second time in one day while I tried to ignore how good he looked from this view. And forget how bad I'd probably looked from his view. The sad thing? I felt even worse. For all my superwoman act, the trouble on the home front was getting me down.

"Adrian."

He stopped short of the door.

I needed to know something, something I didn't really have the courage to ask. Just say it. "Why did you leave the church on Sunday? Did you think Trevor was going to contradict what I'd told you?"

"Nope." He turned to me, the light gleaming off the lens of his gla.s.ses. "I knew exactly what Trevor was going to say." Adrian shoved a fist into his pants pockets. "I also knew what I'd do if I were there to hear it."

to: Soldoutsista1 From: Soldoutsista2 Subject: Tracey Hey, Roch.e.l.le. It's me. I know it's cowardly to e-mail instead of call, but I need to be brief. I don't know if Tracey's told you yet, but she's pregnant. If she hasn't told you, please pick yourself up off the floor and keep reading. She's been calling me a bit down (and probably you, too) and wants to come up for a while. I'm going to put together a surprise baby shower for her this weekend. I need for you to be there. Sat.u.r.day 2 o'clock. My place.

Agape, Dana

I'd wanted to sign it with love or your friend or something, but only G.o.d's love seemed an appropriate closing. At this point, not much else seemed left between us.

When Roch.e.l.le showed up Sat.u.r.day morning and started cooking and folding napkins without saying a word, the smile flashed between us said it all. This was bigger than both of us. This was what friends were for.

And we were friends. My brother's emergence reminded me that Roch.e.l.le wasn't always somebody's mother or big sister. That there was a time when she wasn't Roch.e.l.le much at all. She was just Ch.e.l.le. Today, I saw under her watchful eye and reproving glance the girl who'd gotten knocked up by my brother at seventeen and knocked down by the world not much later. She'd worked long and hard, but there was still a fun-loving person inside there. Her part of "Ch.e.l.le and Jordan" had somehow managed to survive.

Four hours later, when my apartment blared in pastels as if someone had dumped Easter onto the walls early, the first knock came at the door. I gasped when I opened it and saw Naomi, my former boss, looking as shrill as the day she fired me. "Come in."

She dragged on a cigarette. "Don't look so shocked. You invited me, didn't you?"

I nodded, thinking I had Renee to thank for that. What kind of gift would my former a.s.sistant bring? Definitely something from Fingerhut. "Can you, uh, put that out, Naomi? Tracey will be here soon and smoke isn't good for-"

"Whatever." She held up her hand and released another wisp of smoke as she stepped inside. "Where's the bathroom? I'll go in there."

Great. Now I'd have to gag for the rest of the weekend. I considered the possibility for a second and decided against it. She wasn't my boss anymore. This was my house.

With a light touch, I draped my arm over Naomi's shoulder and guided her back down the hall to the stoop. "This is a no smoking zone. House rules. I'm sure that you, of all people, can appreciate rules. Feel free to come in when you're done."

Her face scrunched like she'd sucked a lemon as she tottered onto the metal balcony. "I can't believe this-"