Page 114 of Buy Back My Love

1847 Stanton Ave. Shop called Crown & Clippers. Malcom will be there Monday after 10.

I tossed my phone in the cup holder and backed out of the driveway. I really hoped the spot worked out for Lee. She wasn’t sitting around waiting on somebody else to figure things out for her. She was trying to get back working and handle things her own way. I respected that. And truthfully, I wanted to see her win.

Lee

Monday morning came faster than I expected, and by ten o’clock I was standing in front of Crown & Clippers. The front of the barbershop looked good. The back looked like somebody had started fixing it up and quit halfway through. Malcom, the owner, walked me through the space while wiping down a pair of clippers. He was tall, serious, and looked like he didn’t have much patience for foolishness.

As we made our way toward the back, he told me why the last person renting the space hadn’t worked out.

“Used to be a private suite for a beauty salon,” Malcom explained. “Had a girl back here doing braids and dreads. She was good with her hands, I’ll give her that, but she was sleeping with half her clients and keeping up entirely too much drama in my shop.”

I winced. “Yeah, that’ll do it.”

“I told her straight up, I don’t care what you do on your own time, but you bring that mess into Crown & Clippers, you out.” Malcom looked directly at me. “You gonna bring me any drama?”

“None. I’m here to work.”

That was enough for him.

We talked rent, came up with a number I could actually afford, and signed the agreement right there at the counter. When I walked back outside, I had keys in my hand.

I sat behind the wheel staring at them for a second.

My own spot.

It wasn’t glamorous. The walls were ugly, the back needed work, and I already had a list forming in my head of everything I wanted to change. But I had somewhere to work.

The first person I called was Van.

“It’s official,” I told him as soon as he answered. “I got the space.”

He laughed. “Told you my boy would look out for you. How’s it look?”

“It’s a good size. Perfect for what I need, but them red walls gotta go.”

“That bad?”

“Ugly as hell. They don’t go with nothing I’m trying to do in there.”

“Give me the weekend. I’ll come paint it.”

“You don’t gotta do all that.”

“I said I’ll do it. Meet me over there Saturday morning.”

I smiled before I could stop myself. “All right.”

By Saturday, Van was true to his word. I pulled up to Crown & Clippers around noon with burgers, fries, and cold drinks from a spot down the road. The smell of primer hit me as soon as I walked through the back, and most of that ugly red was already gone.

Van had paint on his shirt and a roller in his hand.

“Look at you go.”

He dropped the roller into the tray and wiped his hands on a rag. “Told you I was gonna get it done.”

“I see that. Come eat before this food get cold.”

We pulled two folding chairs into the middle of the empty room and sat down with our food. For a few minutes, neither one of us did much besides eat and argue over who had more fries.