Charlotte waved to the line of hair stations. “Someone else can do our hair then. We don’t need you to do it.” She pointed to the empty chair next to Walynn’s. “Can’t Mrs. Jill do it?”

Walynn gave the other stylists a meaningful look, ticking me off more. “No! Everyone has a full schedule today. And Mrs. Jill is on break. Sorry.”

“Y’all a mighty sorry hair shop,” Peg spat out.

“Hush,” I told my mouthy brother again. After shoving him outside and ordering him to get everyone loaded up, I all but tossed the money for my haircut at her. The effect was lost when the ten-dollar bill just floated to the floor by her chair where the man was already settling in.

“Austin, sweetie, I’m sorry.”

I whirled around and stormed away without acknowledging her feeble apology. I knew I didn’t like that woman. Pa always said not to be too quick to form an opinion about someone, but he was wrong in this case.

I backed out of the parking lot and regarded all the frowns in the rearview mirror. “None of y’all wanted a haircut anyway. You should be smiling.” Their expressions didn’t change and I got it. We’d just been treated like outcasts, and embarrassment always had a way of outweighing positives. “I’d rather have ice cream sundaes. How ’bout y’all?” That seemed to lift the mood a little, but it was like the humidity outside. Too heavy to escape completely.

We made a pit stop at the grocery store and then set out to the farm in relative silence. Turning in to our drive, I noticed a candy-apple-red Volkswagen Beetle with its blinker light on behind us. There was only one of those in Magnolia, the very same one that had recently been parking at the chapel each Sunday.

“What does that woman want?” I grumbled under my breath as she followed our dust trail up to the farmhouse. I yanked the car into park and hurried to the trunk to grab the grocery bags, only offering the envelope from the funeral home one brief glance before leaving it behind to deal with later. “Boss, bring the ice cream and stuff inside, please. And be sure to put the ice cream in the freezer.” I handed him the bags and turned to wait on our unwanted visitor. “What do you want?” I snapped at Walynn as soon as she exited the car.

Walynn had the decency to look ashamed. “Austin, I’m sorry how I brushed y’all off . . .” She retrieved a bag from her car. “But I didn’t want to embarrass you at the salon. Little Knox . . . well . . . he has head lice. And it’s against salon policy to cut someone’s hair who has lice.”

Mortified, I swung around and eyed the twins standing behind me. “Y’all got itchy heads?”