Zach was on the interstate, making his six-hour drive home from college for the summer. He had just finished his junior year and although he was glad that his classes and finals were behind him, he wasn’t looking forward to living under his parents’ roof again for the summer. At college he could do as he pleased--party, stay out all night, raise hell, get drunk, whatever he wanted at any time. At home he had to toe the line or he’d get a load of grief from Mom and Dad.
Zach was a good-looking kid, tall, blond, athletic and popular at school. He was majoring in journalism, had a good grade point average, contributed to the campus newspaper and radio station and was the starting third baseman for the baseball team. Coming home only cramped his style.
He was now looking forward to three months of the same things he’d done the previous two summers: working nights in a busy warehouse and helping to coach his little brother’s baseball team. His brother Jeff was fourteen years old and played in the county Senior League.
The team was managed by Dan, father of Danny Jr., who was Jeff’s best friend and lived three doors down. Dan was an easy-going guy in his mid-thirties who worked for the State Roads Commission and had coached both boys since they were in the Midget League. His wife was Barb, the perpetual team mother and a hairdresser by trade. Zach could remember times when all the neighborhood kids lined up at her kitchen door for free haircuts when she would hold occasional ‘Haircut Saturdays’.
Zach had always liked Dan and Barb. They were kind, down-to-Earth working people, although a bit of an odd couple; they were total opposites. Dan was a laid-back, soft-spoken pipe smoker, kind of rough edged with a plain face and a pot belly. He never said much unless he drank too much. Barb, on the other hand, was an attractive frizzy-haired blonde with a perky, likeable personality and a quick wit, plus a killer body she’d kept in great physical shape. Zach had always thought she was pretty hot. Hell, everybody did.
Zach pulled his car into the driveway. No one was home. It was early afternoon so Jeff would still be in school and his parents at work. His mother Meg worked as a nurse practitioner and his father Joe was a civil engineer. He let himself into the house and unpacked his filled-to-the-max car and moved all of his stuff into his old bedroom. He threw a load of dirty laundry into the washing machine and then went out back and dove into the pool. He swam a few laps before climbing out and lying on a lounge chair.
He was proud of the backyard. His parents had done a great job designing it, he thought, from the large lanai to the outdoor kitchen and bar, screened pool and Jacuzzi, even a gazebo. They loved to entertain and often held parties and get-togethers for their friends and family.
Jeff got home from school and came in the front door yelling for Zach because he’d seen his car out front. Zach was in the laundry room downstairs. He was moving his clean clothes into the dryer and throwing another dirty load into the washer.
They greeted each other and then went out in the yard and played a game of catch. They talked about the baseball team and how they were doing so far. The season had started a couple weeks before. Jeff said they looked pretty good, had won three and lost one so far, and the one they’d lost was in extra innings.
“We should have won,” Jeff said. “But our right fielder missed a routine pop fly and by the time he caught up to the ball the hitter was rounding third and headed home. Lost 3-2.”
“Ooh, that’s a tough one,” Zach said. “It’s easier to forget the blowouts than tough losses like that.”
“We need you coachin’,” Jeff said. “Mr. Dan just sits there most of the time, and doesn’t say much. We need you coachin’ third and pumping us up.”
“I’ll call Mr. Dan tonight and let him know that I’m back. If he wants me, I’ll be there.”
“Oh, he wants you, alright. Danny told me he’s mentioned it a bunch of times.”
Their mother came out of the back of the house.
“There’s my baby!” she hollered as she hustled over to give Zach a hug.
Meg squeezed her older son tightly and kissed his cheeks.
“Oh, it’s so nice to see you, Honey. Welcome home,” she said. “How was the drive?”
“Smooth sailing,” Zach said.
“Good. I’m cooking lasagna tonight, so I hope you’re hungry.”
“I’ll eat it, don’t you worry.”
Meg stepped back and looked at him.
“My, do you ever need a haircut!” she said looking at him. “You need to go see Mrs. Barb.”
Zach knew she was right. He hadn’t had it cut since before Christmas.
“Ma!” Jeff whined from sixty feet away. “We’re trying to play catch!”
“Yeah, I know,” Zach said. “I’ll call and make an appointment.”
“Glad you’re home, Zach,” she said.
Meg went into the kitchen to start dinner. The boys finished playing catch.
----
Zach called Dan after supper.
“I was hoping you’d get home before the weekend,” Dan said. “I need ya. We look okay so far but we need a practice on some of the fundamentals. It’s set for Saturday morning. That’s where you come in.”
“Oh, what fundamentals are those?” Zach asked. “Right fielders shagging flies?”
“Oh, Jeff told you how we lost, huh? Maybe that too. But mostly bunting, base running, rundowns, cutoffs. All the fun stuff. And the kids seem to focus better when they know a real college player is talking and not the same ole dad they’ve been listening to for six-seven years.”
“Okay, sounds like a plan. I’m anxious to get started again. Oh, and is Miss Barb around? Tell her I need a haircut bad, and I’ll be making an appointment.”
“I’ll tell her. See you Saturday,” Dan said.
Zach hung up and called the salon. The gal who answered the phone said Barb worked the next day. He scheduled an appointment for mid-afternoon.
----
First thing the next morning Zach called his employer. He’d worked there for three straight summers and they were always glad to have him back. They told him to come in and sign everything and he would start the following Monday.
Zach took a shower and shampooed his golden locks. He dressed casual but neat and went to fill out the paperwork for his job. He grabbed some lunch and went to a bookstore and bought a couple paperbacks. He did some reading and browsed until it was time for his hair appointment.
He got to the salon a little early and checked in. He took a seat with a good view of Barb. She had worked at this place for years so she had a choice workspace near the back and had an old guy in her chair. She looked good as usual, her slim body dressed in a black zippered smock with sleeves to her elbows, black tights on her legs and black flats on her feet. Her blond curls danced on her shoulders as she moved to and fro, snipping away.
He always liked going to Barb for haircuts. She looked good, smelled good and took her time, fussing over every little edge, evening it here and there, making sure it looked just so.
Another thing about Barb that Zach liked was that she wore very little makeup, only a subtle touch around the eyes and polished nails. But jewelry was a different story. She always wore a lot of jewelry: head-to-toe necklaces, rings, bracelets, earrings, you name it. Even as he looked at her from his chair in the waiting area at the front he could see gold chains dangling from her earlobes, bracelets and bangles on both her wrists, rings on most of her fingers and ankle bracelets. He wondered how much more he couldn’t see.
Finally Barb pulled the sheet off of the old man and he rose out of his chair. He preened in front of the mirror for a moment before they walked up front to the cash register. He paid, said thanks and walked past Zach and out the door.
“Okay, who’s next?” Barb called out loudly, pretending to look at the appointment schedule on the counter. “Do we have a Zach?” She looked at him and grinned.
Zach stood up and walked toward her and Barb came around the counter and gave him a hug.
“Hi, Zach, welcome home,” she said. “You look great! How are you doing?”
“I’m good, how are you?”
“Good, come on back,” she said.
Zach took his seat and Barb covered him and wrapped the paper strip around his collar. Barb smelled good, just like he remembered, like fresh flowers. As she readied her tools they made small talk: How’s school, how’s the family, all that jazz. Then Barb turned to him and was ready to get started.
She cocked her head and looked at him for a moment, and lifted his hair and let it flop back down.
“Zach, I have to say, you’ve certainly grown into a handsome young man,” she said. “But damn boy, do you ever need a haircut!”
“I know, I know,” he said sheepishly. “That’s why I’m here. Do your magic.”
“Magic? I might need a weed whacker for this mess!” She ran her fingers through his hair on both sides of his head. “How do you want it cut?”
“The usual. If you can remember.”
“How could I forget a head like yours?” she said.
Barb started with electric clippers on the sides, muttering ‘God, you need a haircut!’ several times.
