“He had an accident last night and had to go to the emergency room.” “I wasn’t talking about his stitches.” She stares at me with a perfectly arched brow and her arms crossed tightly against her chest. I release a deep sigh. “It’s a long story.” “Perfect. You can share it while I cut your hair.” She drags me into the kitchen. The sight of tamales cooking on the stove makes my mouth water and my stomach grumble. “Haircut first. Dinner after.” She pulls out a stool for me before gathering the supplies.
