Chapter 28 Bree
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Three weeks passed without incident.
No more Lucky Charms. Minimal whispered comments pitched loud enough for me to overhear when I walked past. No pointed looks from women whose names I barely knew but whose opinions had somehow become valuable to me.
People still talked. They’d probably fall over dead if they went a whole day without gossiping about somebody, but the specific, targeted cruelty that had destroyed Mom’s car had run its course.
Either people had found something else more interesting to discuss, or the universe simply decided I’d taken enough hits and called a temporary ceasefire.
Whatever the reason, I’d take the quiet reprieve.
The renovations were moving along, and the pub looked better than ever.
Ronan was finishing up the patio today, and I’d skipped out at lunch for a much-needed haircut and a walk around town.
By the time I made it back, Finn would be finishing up his shift at the fire house, and we might even have a chance to go upstairs after closing up.
We hadn’t been together often these last few weeks. I’d been too traumatized over Tammy’s comment, and they’d respected my wishes to have a little space. I didn’t want to give them up, and I loved that they gave me space when I asked for it.
But it also created a little hollow behind my breastbone that nudged worry deep down where I couldn’t shake it.
I’d find out later. A smile bloomed in full, cheeky glory when I spotted the salon with its “walk-ins welcome” sign out front.
My hair had been staging a quiet rebellion for the better part of a month. The ends had gone dry and ragged from too many late nights and not enough conditioning, and the weight of it gave me tension headaches from pulling it out of my face when I worked the bar.
Time to shake things up and get back to my usual self with a nice wash and blowout.
The bell above the door chimed when I entered the salon, and a teenager at the front desk looked up from her phone, dragging her gaze away from the screen in increments. Must have been on some more doom scroll marathon. “Do you have an appointment?”
“No.” I pointed at the sign. “Does anyone have time for a walk-in?”
She huffed and tapped the screen in front of her. “Kayla will be with you in a minute. Take whichever chair you want.”
I picked the one at the far end, away from the window but with a nice view of a bookshelf covered in romance novels. I took one at random and flipped through the pages while tapping my shoe to the country music crooning from speakers in every corner.
A door opened, and the smell of coconut and burned skin wafted out, followed by a woman with a fresh layer of tanning bed lines at her eyes. She grinned at me and pointed. “Good book. I recommend checking out page fifty-eight.”
“Thanks.” I flipped to the suggested page and began reading. Heat flamed across my entire face at the descriptive sex scene. I mean, it wasn’t even close to things I’d done, but I couldn’t imagine being able to keep a straight face reading this with a stylist behind me.
The woman cackled and waved, the bell announcing her departure.
Okay. Enough of that. I returned the book to the shelf.
Another door opened in the back, and a woman around my age, with Kayla stitched across her pink apron, walked out. She smiled. “Hi.”
“Hi.” I slid into the salon chair. “Sorry to walk in.”
“No problem.” With a grin and a wave, she walked around behind me and draped a cape over my chest and shoulders. “So. What are we doing today?”
“Just a trim.” I gathered my hair and lifted it to show the ends. “Get rid of the split ends and maybe add some layers so it’s not so heavy. I want to keep most of the length, so nothing dramatic.”
“Got it.” Kayla started the water in the sink and checked her scissors, lining up what she’d need on the counter.
“Oh my goodness.” The high-pitched falsetto sent my head spinning so fast it reminded me of whiplash. Bethany stood at the front desk, her hands clasped beneath her chin. “Bree. I’m so glad to see you here today. Kayla, give us a minute.”
I locked eyes with the woman I was coming to despise.
My heart hammered loud and fast, and I swallowed the sticky feeling in the back of my throat.
I hadn’t spoken to Bethany in weeks. Hadn’t even glanced her way when she brought her friends into the pub.
I hadn’t taken my concerns to the police, and I’d done my best to live my life like she didn’t exist.
She sashayed over to me. I didn’t have any other word for the way her hips moved, like she thought she could charm any living person with that alone.
A snake charmer, only she was the snake.
Bethany stopped beside Kayla, nudging her aside with her hip. “Really, it’ll only be a minute.”
Kayla eyed me, then Bethany, and shrugged. “I’ll finish stocking our new shipment of shampoo. Let me know when you’re done.”
Bethany nodded, her smile a mix between sincere and calculated as she dragged one of the pink stools over and climbed onto it, putting us face to face. “I owe you an apology.”
I could’ve swallowed my tongue and been less shocked.
“I feel terrible about the way I’ve made you feel since you came back.
” She held my gaze without flinching. “That wasn’t fair to you.
You came home after losing your grandmother, then felt like I picked on you.
” She didn’t mention the box of cereal or Mom’s car.
Instead, it sounded so generic, like it had all been a misunderstanding.
“I want you to know I didn’t mean anything by it.
I genuinely wanted to welcome you home.” She blinked wide eyes and took my hand between hers. “Can you ever forgive me?”
She sounded so genuine. I couldn’t remember anyone like her ever apologizing to someone like me.
Maybe the car had been a thoughtless prank instead of the malicious assault I’d conjured up. It might’ve been a stupid impulse that escalated. She might not have realized the damage it would cause.
I understood that impulses sometimes ran away with a person.
Hell, I’d given in to more impulses since coming here than in my entire life put together.
I understood doing something that made sense in the moment but was wrong in retrospect.
“Thank you. I appreciate you saying that.” I almost apologized too.
I almost told her I was sorry that I’d taken it all the wrong way, but I bit my tongue and waited until I was sure I could control my voice.
“I forgive you, and I’d like to start over. ”
Bethany sniffed and tapped her knuckle beneath her nose. “I’d really like that.” Her voice quivered, and she cleared her throat while standing. “Tell you what, let me do your trim. Free of charge. As a peace offering.”
The cold knot that had formed in my gut relaxed and warmed. This was what I’d wanted since the day I came back.
“Okay.” I smiled and nodded. “I’d like that. Thank you.”
“Oh you’re welcome. Now lets get started.” She moved behind me and combed her fingers through my hair, sectioning it off. “You want a wash and trim, right?”
“Yes, please.” The weight of my hair pulled my head back slightly, and I worked to keep it level.
Bethany spun my chair around and leaned me back into the sink, gathering my hair over the lip and spraying my scalp with hot water. “It’s really great that you’re back in town. We don’t get a lot of people who do that, you know. You live in Boston, right?”
“Yes. I’m an event coordinator.” The hot water and Bethany’s nails scrubbed away the headache that had been blooming all morning. I closed my eyes and fought the sigh working its way up.
“How does it feel being away from the big city?” Bethany continued washing and conditioning my hair, asking questions and chatting with everyone who came through the door.
This was it. I was finally part of the club, part of Clover Hill and the inner group.
I answered her questions the best I could without giving away the depths of my feelings for the town and three specific inhabitants.
Thankfully, Bethany kept the conversation focused on work and general life and not love and men.
The chairs all filled up, creating a buzz of conversation that prickled beneath my skin.
This was the Clover Hill Nana Maeve loved.
Bethany lifted my head from the sink and wrapped a towel around my hair, squeezing out the water.
“All right. Let’s see what we can do here.
” Once again, she sectioned off my hair, putting the side pieces over my shoulder.
A light pressure on the back of my head encouraged me to lean forward, and I did it without thinking.
“I see what you mean about the split ends. They were getting a bit wild back here.” Bethany’s voice came from close to my neck.
She lifted a large section, far more than any hairdresser ever worked with at once.
The scissors snipped with a clean, heavy stroke that sounded like tearing.
The back of my neck went suddenly, terribly cold and weightless.
Bethany raised her hand slowly, holding up the length of my hair beside my face the way anyone else would hold a trophy. The thick rope of hair that had been long enough to brush my belt hung lifeless in her grasp.
The salon erupted. Laughter.
Cold. Cruel. Bitter laughter that crashed in from every direction. The other stylists, the women in the chairs, they all joined in, unified and feeding on each other the way cruelty is emboldened by the next snort, the next smirk.
“Oh my god.” Bethany’s voice lifted above it, bright with falsity, her eyes meeting mine in the mirror. Cold and uncaring and completely satisfied with herself in this moment. “It slipped.”
I leaped out of the chair and ripped off the cape, reaching around to feel the bare nape of my neck and the ragged gap where my hair should be. The devastating bluntness sent my stomach spiraling.
There were no words cruel enough to throw at her, and I’d die before I let her see my tears. I grabbed my bag from the floor and slung it over my shoulder on my way to the door. My legs shook, but I powered through.
“Honey, where are you going?” Bethany’s voice followed me across the salon, warm amusement mingling with her calculated savagery. “We’re not done. Don’t you want me to even it out.”
More laughter, this time louder. I hope you all choke on your spit and fall out in the floor.
I hope someday, you have a daughter who’s fat like me and you’re forced to realize how truly awful you are.
No. I don’t wish that on your poor daughters.
I hope you die old and alone without ever knowing love.
I kept up the litany of near curses all the way to the door.
Nana Maeve would’ve been more creative, but I was rusty at the Irish cursing thing.
“At least you’re not as heavy now. I mean, it won’t help much, but every little bit helps.” Bethany crowed her delight in a sing-song. “Lord knows you don’t need anything making you look bigger.”
The door shut, cutting her off.
My chin came up, and I spun away from the salon, waiting until I was out of sight to toss my still wet hair from my shoulders. It slapped my back with a wet thwack but maybe it would cover the damage until I made it to the apartment.
Tears burned hot and thick in my throat. I’d been made a fool of before, but not like this. This was the Clover Hill Mom warned me about, and honestly, if this was what I’d have to put up with, I understood why she wanted me to go.
If it wasn’t for Nana Maeve’s will about the renovations, I’d be tempted to take off tonight.
Then again, I hated being the girl who ran away.
They’d fooled me today, but it would never happen again.
I kept my chin up and the tears at bay all the way from the salon to the corner of the pub.
I wasn’t safe yet. Wouldn’t be safe until I walked into my apartment and closed the door.
Just a few more steps. I could do it. I could walk across the pub and pretend like everything was okay.
Except the first time someone asked why I was walking around with wet hair, I’d fall apart. I sucked it up, all the pain and rage and grief, and stuffed it into a tiny box in the center of my heart, then I walked around to the back alley and snuck in through the storage room.