“There’s Evanelle,” Sydney said, and Claire turned to see her coming up the sidewalk.

Evanelle walked up the steps, smiling. “Your mother had two beautiful girls. I’ll give her that. But you two don’t look so chipper.”

“It’s the first heat wave. It makes everyone cranky,” Claire said as she poured Evanelle a glass of iced tea from the pitcher she’d brought outside. “How have you been? I haven’t seen you in a couple of days.”

Evanelle took the glass and sat in the wicker rocker by Claire. “I’ve had a guest.”

“Who?”

“Fred Walker is staying with me.”

“Oh,” Claire said, surprised. “Are you okay with that?”

“I’m fine with it.”

“I guess the rose geranium wine didn’t work.”

Evanelle shrugged and sipped her tea. “He never used it.”

Claire glanced over to the house next door. “Do you think Fred would let me buy it back?”

“I don’t see why not. Got another customer for it?”

“No.”

Sydney piped in and said, “She probably wants to use it on Tyler.”

Claire gave her a look, but it was only halfhearted. She was right, after all.

Evanelle put her tea down and rooted through her tote bag. “I came because I had to give you this,” she said, finally bringing out a white headband and handing it to Claire. “Fred tried to talk me out of giving it to you. He said you use combs, not headbands, that headbands were for people with short hair. He doesn’t understand. This is what I had to give you. It’s been a while since I’ve lived with a man. I forgot how stubborn they can be. They smell right nice, though.”

Sydney and Claire exchanged glances. “Evanelle, you do know Fred is gay, don’t you?” Claire asked gently.

“Of course,” she said, laughing, looking happier and lighter than Claire had seen her in ages. “But it’s nice to know that you two aren’t the only ones who like having me around. So tell me, Sydney, how is work?”

Sydney and Bay were sitting on the porch swing, and Sydney was using one bare foot to gently rock them back and forth. “I have you to thank for it. If you hadn’t given me that shirt I returned, I never would have gone into the White Door to see if they had an open booth.”

“Fred said he saw you a couple of times last week, getting lunch for the girls. And once he saw you sweeping up.”

“That’s all I’m good for right now.”

“What’s the matter?” Claire asked, aware that Sydney had been mopey lately. She’d been so excited about her job at the White Door at first, but as the days wore on she came home earlier and earlier, smiling less and less. Claire had mixed feelings about Sydney’s new job. Claire liked working with Sydney, liked having her around. But Sydney had a light to her when she talked of hair. She left every morning with so much hope.