At 1:40 PM, Marilena rushes into the cozy neighborhood salon, slightly out of breath. The familiar hum of dryers and chatter washes over her as she steps through the door. Edna, her usual hairstylist, looks up from her station with an arched brow.
"Well, look who decided to show up," Edna teases, her hands expertly sectioning off another client's hair. "We thought you were ditching us this week."
Marilena places a hand on her chest, a sheepish smile spreading across her face. "I'm so sorry, Edna. Traffic was a nightmare. I should have left earlier."
Rosie, who's seated at her manicure station, chuckles. "You had us worried. I thought you found a new place already!"
"As if I could," Marilena says, her tone warm. "You all know me too well. Besides, who else could tame these curls like Edna?"
Edna grins and motions toward an empty chair. "You're lucky I like you, Marilena. Go sit. I'll finish up here and be right with you."
