CHAPTER FIVE
Everly
Y esterday was a whirlwind of events. After Linc and I went to lunch, we caught a movie and then walked around the beach for a bit.
He truly seems like the perfect person, but no one can be that perfect.
Saylor always says the first several months are like a honeymoon stage but then you really get to know each other after the first fight or a long separation.
She’s been in and out of relationships since we were teenagers.
Her being older, I always watched her, hoping to one day have the confidence she showed.
Linc received a call last night as we were walking around from his business partner, Olivia, and had to head into the office.
He was very pissed she couldn’t handle whatever it was that was going on but after several minutes he ended the call looking flustered.
He apologized but needed to head into the office to manage an employee that was handling a critical case.
He followed me home in his car to make sure I made it there safely, then left in a rush with the promise to call me today.
Sundays are my cleaning and relaxing day but a message from Saylor tells me that I’m in for a day of pampering instead. She heard about my appointments being shifted to a big client and wants all the details. Even though she doesn’t work there, she lives for the Hollywood gossip around here.
A few hours later, the apartment is tidy and all the laundry is done for the week. I’ve made a grocery list to pick up on my way home after hanging out with Saylor and checked my bills that are due to be paid for the month.
“Everly, you ready!” A loud knock startles me as I’m tying the laces to my white chucks. I’ve paired it with a ruffle strapless, loose summer top and denim capri worn jeans with holes throughout the legs.
“I’m ready,” I answer the door, rolling my eyes. Saylor always pounds on my door like she’s the police. She has a key to unlock the door, just as I have one for her apartment, but she loves to make me jump.
Saylor is in a short red romper that I’m sure if she bends just right, you’ll see everything God gave her.
“So, are you going to spill or am I going to torture you to get all the details as to why you ditched me Friday night and all day yesterday after work?” she demands as we pull out of the parking garage, in her two door Mercedes red convertible.
“I mean, Jesse was really into you and was disappointed when you left with that old guy at the bar.”
Ever since meeting Saylor, I’ve tended to think that she falls on the more dramatic side of things, but I wouldn’t have her any other way.
“Jesse seemed like a creep and had bad breath,” I say and leave out that he wasn’t the most attractive guy. I can deal with most things and look past their features if they have a good personality but lord, have some personal hygiene at least.
“Okay, no Jesse but what did you think about Mark?” She continues to question.
“Which one was he again?” I question not really remembering anyone but Linc.
“Oh Everly, what am I going to do with you?” Saylor gives an exasperated sigh. “Please tell me you finally got laid with that mysterious man you went across the street with, after leaving me all alone with my friends.”
Eye rolling has become like second nature to me when I hang out with Saylor. Sometimes I swear she says things just to rile me up to get a reaction out of me. She knows all about the issues dad and I have had with my mother and how hard it is for me to connect with new people.
Leaving with Linc Friday night and going off with him yesterday was a big leap for me but something in me wants to be close with him.
I can’t really describe it, but I’m drawn to him for some reason, and I think he feels the same.
But who am I to make that kind of judgement, I’ve never really had a real relationship and the short dates I’ve been on have only ended with making out.
“Earth to Everly!” Saylor interrupts my thoughts and brings me back. “Girl, you’ve got it bad. I’ve never seen you so smitten-kitten over a boy before.”
“I’m not smitten-kitten, Saylor,” I defend but really, I can’t help but lie. I am smitten with Linc and can’t stop thinking about him.
She rolls her eyes.
“Whatever you say.”
“Did you stay all night at the bar or did y’all hit up another place after I left?” I ask.
“I stayed a little while after you left but then I met the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen in my life.”
“Really?”
“Really. I went to go and get the table refills on some beers, and he was sitting up on the stool watching the game with some buddies.”
“Sounds like a normal Friday night for you,” I joke, and she laughs with me.
“No, I’m telling you he was pur-fection,” she gushes. “He paid for all the drinks I ordered and then we left.”
“So, you didn’t stay there with your friends?”
“No way. Girl, when prime rib is being dangled in front of you, you never settle for scraps,” she says, and it makes me laugh. “Besides, he seemed a little on the quiet side so I thought going somewhere more private would be easier.”
Our car ride isn’t long and when I look up, I’m confused.
“Why are we at work on our day off? Isn’t there some kind of rule for that or something?”
“Everly,” she huffs. “This is a big deal for you, and I want to make sure you’ve got all your equipment finely tuned.” Saylor gestures to my work building confusing me even more. The look I’m giving her must snap her out of her own head. “Grooming, Everly. Nails, hair, hedges—”
“Hedges?”
“Your bush.” She points down at my vagina and I automatically cover the area with my hand, as if she was going to try and touch me.
Saylor has no boundaries when it comes to the female anatomy, and I find myself fondled a lot when she’s making references about my breast so I can just assume she wouldn’t be any different with that area.
“It’s trimmed,” I adamantly state.
“Waxing is always better. Besides, you want to make sure you don’t miss a spot, especially if he’s eating your cookie.”
Dear God, save me now.
I don’t even reply because she’ll just keep going and that’s the last thing I want to be discussing.
When we were teens, she was the one who gave me the period talk.
Then not long after that, she told me all about the birds and the bees.
Our dads were gone a lot on missions and her grandparents made sure we were taken care of during those times.
An hour later and after getting my hands and feet done, I’m laying down on a table in a treatment room waiting for one of my co-workers to come in and mangle my very private area, that only I’ve ever had access to.
The door opens and in walks one of my favorite people.
“I wondered when you’d finally come to me to have a good waxing,” Christine says as she gloves up. “Saylor said to be gentle, as it’s your first time. She also mentioned that you’ve got a man in your life now.”
Christine is a really nice woman in her late thirties and has been with the spa since its opening. She’s very motherly to all of us younger girls and treats us like her own four daughters at home.
I didn’t grow up with a mother, but I had a lot of females surrounding me that stepped up and filled in when I needed it.
“Ugh! I don’t really need this, I keep it nice and trimmed,” I argue like a child.
I know this hurts and why people put themselves through this is beyond me.
The stories that they tell during our lunch breaks are hilarious but I’m worried that now I’m going to be one of them.
“We could just talk for a while instead.”
“Think of it as not having to shave as often and it won’t cause those irritating red bumps.”
Once she’s got me in position and gloved up, I’ve changed my mind, but she’s already splayed the wax to an area I’m sure is for doctor’s eyes only.
I massage clients all the time so I’m not shy when it comes to the naked body, but my naked body has only been seen by less than a handful of people walking this earth.
“Take a deep breath, honey.”
I do as she says while my mind is yelling at me to run out the door and away from this room and to never look back.
“Maybe we should—” but before I can finish, Christine yanks the cloth strip and a scream shoots out of me involuntarily as my body moves to sit upright, in an attempt to bolt away from the source of pain.
It sounds like a toddler getting a toy taken from them at daycare echoing from wall to wall.
Tears form in my eyes; one breaches the lower lid and falls down towards my temple.
“Shh, it’ll be okay,” Christine says trying to sooth me but all I want to do is yell liar to her face. “The first one is always the worst.” She tries to comfort me but continues to coat more wax on my southern lips. Newsflash, she doesn’t look the least bit sorry.
“I’m good, we don’t need to continue. I’ve got somewhere to be and—” She rips another and my entire body tenses to almost cramping status.
“What is wrong with you! How can people want to do this!” I howl at her.
My legs try to close, and I think I’ve gone lightheaded.
The bright room starts to dim in and out and my focus is a little shaky.
“Almost done, honey, just a few more and then it’s all over,” Christine calmly says but I don’t believe her. Not one little bit.
“Really? How many more?” I try to sound so hopeful. My hands are sweating, and I think I might have chipped a tooth bearing down with my teeth.
“Ah, maybe four?” She says like a question then rips off the next one. I wasn’t focused and didn’t even notice she’d slathered on more wax. I feel as though I’m numb from the waist down.
“Christine!” I yell this time and grab for her wrist. She’s quick like a puma and moves before I can clamp down on her.
She has a small smile that graces her face like she’s hiding a secret or wanting to burst out in laughter.
Any other time I’d probably be laughing my ass off if it were someone else but being the one on the table has me in agonizing tears. “I hate you right now.”
“It’s okay, honey. It’ll all be worth it later.”
She rips off the next one and the pain ebbs slightly. I must be in shock or have really gone numb down there; either way I welcome it. Why women do this is beyond me. Give me a razor and shaving cream and I’ll die a happy lady. Maybe it’s time the bush comes back in style.
Six rips later, yes, six and not the four she previously stated, Christine is applying aloe to my most tender and abused area of my body.
All I can think about is how I’m going to murder Saylor, maybe I’ll slip green hair coloring into her bowl as she gets her highlights after this. It’d serve her right.
After Christine goes over the aftercare, she leaves me to get dressed.
I lay there on the table for a bit staring up at the ceiling wondering why we torture ourselves.
There’s a mirror in the corner of the room and as I’m locating my panties, I take a look at the damage.
I’m still ruby red but I do have to admit that it does look much better than my own trimming.
She still left a small strip at the top but everything else is smooth. Irritated but smooth.
I’ll never admit this to Saylor or Christine but maybe it has its perks for waxing. Next time I should probably take some pain medicine beforehand.
Saylor: You still alive in there or should I call for medics?
Me: Coming, hold your horses! And I’m never talking to you again.
Saylor: You’ll thank me when he’s eatin’ that cookie!
Rolling my eyes at her text, I quickly but carefully dress then head out to meet up with my annoying best friend. She means only the best but sometimes I could strangle her for the things she gets me into.