He’s bent over a large day planner with a lot of scribbling on it, comparing it to his cell phone. I can’t help but smile at how determined yet confused he looks.
He notices my sympathetic smile. “I’m trying to use this new app to keep track of my appointments, but I still rely on this paper mess,” he tells me. “Old habits die hard.”
“I know what you mean. We’ve just had all new software installed where I work, and I still don’t trust it completely.”
“What do you do for work?”
“I’m a Human Resources manager.”
“Wow. That’s really cool. Do you get to fire people?”
I let out a laugh. “Yes, sometimes. I hire them, too. I don’t like firing people. It’s not fun at all.”
He sighs and goes back to studying his calendar. “So how about the Friday after next, at six-thirty again?” he asks. “Then you’ll be my last appointment again, and I won’t have to rush.”
I take out my cell phone and check my calendar. I know I have nothing to do, but want to make sure there isn’t anything going on with the kids. There’s nothing in that little square of a day on my calendar. As usual.
“That works for me. You really shouldn’t be working on a Friday night, though. I could come a different night, or over the weekend if that’s better?”
He writes my name down on his calendar and then types it into his phone. “I don’t usually have any plans at night. The weekends are pretty booked here for months. That’s when everyone wants to come in.”
“That makes sense. Thank you then, for seeing me on a Friday night.”
“No problem.” He hands me a piece of paper. “This is the care sheet. Be sure to put lotion on it twice a day. It will feel a little sore for a few days, and then it will scab up and get itchy. Do not scratch it or pick at it. Wash it gently. If you have any questions at all, just call me. The shop number and my cell are on there.”
“Okay . . . thank you.” The scab part sounds concerning and kinda gross to me. Lindsay didn’t mention scabs or itching. “How itchy exactly?”
“Like really itchy. Like an itch you can’t scratch.”
“Is there such a thing?”
He grins wickedly at me. “Oh, you have no idea.”
He comes around the counter and walks toward the parlor door with me. “I’m going to walk you to your car. It’s late.”
My heart jumps a little at his thoughtful gesture. “You don’t have to do that, Lukas. I’m a big girl.” I smile up at him as I walk under his arm that’s holding the door open.
“I insist. It’s dark in the parking lot, and you never know what kind of psycho could be creeping around out there, wanting to scratch your itch.”