Chapter Thirty
Firm hands massaged Eliza’s scalp, and she had to suppress a moan. Maybe this hadn’t been such a bad idea of Mo’s after all.
She’d filled her friend in on the latest, and soon thereafter Mo sent her two messages. The first invited her out to dinner with Nik and some other friends ( I’m not taking no for an answer ), and the second was a gift certificate for a blowout at a posh salon.
Eliza immediately called her. “You do realize that asking someone to blow out my hair is cruel and unusual punishment,” she said as soon as Mo picked up the phone. “They’ll all be fighting not to do my hair.”
“Please. Just think of the satisfaction they’ll have turning it into glossy golden sheets! You’ll look like a shampoo commercial. And the package includes an extra head massage. Who couldn’t use an extra head massage now and then?”
So now she sat in an unusually comfortable shampoo chair, her head in the sink, while someone she’d never met before today lathered her thick hair and made her feel better than she had in weeks.
Too soon, she had a towel wrapped around her head and was being escorted to one of the paisley-printed swivel chairs lined up in front of a mirrored wall.
“I’m Daniela,” said the technician who was waiting for her. Daniela’s own jet black hair was swept up in a tight ballerina bun, and her makeup looked like it had been done by a professional artist. She unwound the towel from Eliza’s head. “Oh my. You have a lot of hair, girl!”
Eliza caught Daniela’s eyes in the mirror. “Sorry about that.”
“Oh, no apologies necessary! I love a good head of hair. I’d have nearly as much as you if I took mine down.” She pointed at her bun. “And it’s a lot easier to blow dry someone else’s than your own, let me tell you.”
“I’m sure. I usually just let mine air dry.”
Daniela spritzed something on her head?—“detangler”?—and used a wide-tooth comb. Even this felt like pampering. “So, are you getting ready for something special?”
Eliza spoke from behind her closed eyes. “Not really. My friend gave me a gift card. She was trying to cheer me up.”
“And what do you need to be cheered up from?”
“My dad passed away earlier this fall.” That was certainly the easiest response.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. He must have been young. How’s your mom doing?”
Eliza opened her eyes. “She actually died ten years ago, when I was a teenager.”
The combing stopped, and Daniela put her hands on Eliza’s shoulders, looking at her in the mirror. “You poor girl! No wonder you need pampering.”
Eliza gave her a half smile. “And you don’t know the half of it.”
“No?” Daniela put her comb down on the little rolling stand beside her and picked up what looked like clothespins, expertly winding the top layers of Eliza’s hair out of the way.
Why not share? She’d never see this woman again. “I found out on the day of my dad’s funeral that my mom slept with her high school boyfriend at their reunion, and that guy is actually my father.”
Daniela’s eyes widened, and Eliza continued.
“ And my stepmother is challenging the will since my dad wasn’t my biological father.”
“Are you serious?” Daniela’s face was the picture of indignance.
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“I’m amazed you’re even here. I’d be at the bar myself. Tequila, and keep it coming.” Daniela turned on her blow-dryer and got to work.
Eliza closed her eyes again. Despite the murmur of voices throughout the salon, it felt like they were in a cozy cocoon. “And I found my real dad. He’s here in the city.”
“Oh my God!”
“Yeah, and he doesn’t want anything to do with me.”
“Why would you say that? Is he married? Was he cheating on his wife with your mom?”
Eliza started to shake her head before realizing that Daniela’s ministrations made the movement impossible. “Nope,” she said instead, and then found herself sharing the other details she knew?—Laura’s letter to her and the revelations in the diary?—along with the part about having to work with Ross.
“Were you and your dad close? I mean, the dad you grew up with?”
“Not really. I was super close with my mom, so when he got remarried... it was really hard.”
“And now you’re probably rethinking how you saw your mom,” Daniela said matter-of-factly as she readjusted the pins in Eliza’s hair.
Am I? “You mean because she cheated?”
“Well, that, but also the way she told you about it. And when. I mean, your dad just died, and instead of being able to focus on grieving him, you’ve got this other mess. I’d be mad, but maybe that’s just me. I tend to shoot first, ask questions later.”
Daniela laughed, but Eliza bit her lip. She hadn’t thought about it that way. It actually was a pretty shitty thing for Laura to do. Her instructions to Aunt Claude guaranteed that Eliza would get this letter immediately after Jack’s death.
She allowed her head to be moved from side to side as Daniela pulled the round brush through her hair. She always drew back from the fire whenever her fingertips got close to the idea that Laura wasn’t perfect. That she could have done something wrong. Or hurtful. It had always been easier to direct all her anger at Jack and imagine how much better life would be if Laura were alive. But maybe that wasn’t doing her any favors.
Daniela changed the subject to chat about Eliza’s hair?—Had it always been long? What products did she use? She’d swiveled the chair as she worked, but when she’d turned off the dryer and run a final comb through, she turned Eliza back to face the mirror. “Ta-da! What do you think?”
Eliza barely recognized herself. Her hair, which was always in a bun or a braid, hung around her like curtains of golden silk. She reached up to touch it, hardly believing it was the same stuff that had been attached to her head that morning.
“You look gorgeous, girl! I mean, you already looked gorgeous when you came in, but you’re a knockout!” Daniela’s grin in the mirror was wide.
“Wow. I didn’t know my hair could be this smooth.”
“Or this pretty, right?”
Eliza shook her head slowly. She might have become a blow-dry convert. The therapy was just the side benefit.
The restaurant Mo had selected was Mediterranean, with rustic decor. Rough-hewn stone walls gave the space a cave-like feel, and canvases displaying scenes of turquoise water, whitewashed buildings, and window boxes overflowing with bougainvillea were hung strategically throughout. Eliza told the hostess that she was there for the Mohini Bansal party and was led toward the back.
As soon as she saw Mo and Nik, she wanted to turn back around. She’d been anticipating a group, but they were seated at a table for four, along with a dark-haired man she could see only from the back. She couldn’t believe Mo would set her up without warning. But before she could flee, Mo spotted her and jumped up from her seat.
“Oh my gosh! You look gorgeous! I see you already got the blowout!”
Eliza returned Mo’s hug, her annoyance slightly abated by the compliment. She’d resisted the urge to tie her hair back, figuring Daniela’s hard work deserved to be shown off. The hair had also deserved a nice outfit, so she was wearing a cream silk tank and a short navy skirt with tights and tall boots. As she took her coat off, she realized that it would appear she’d dressed up for this man she hadn’t actually known was coming.
Nik reached across the cluster of water glasses on the table to shake her hand. “Nice seeing you again, Eliza. This is my friend Griffin.”
Griffin smiled at her. “Nice to meet you.” He was cute, with dark curly hair and blue eyes that were nicely set off by the blue in his plaid shirt.
“Likewise. Sorry?—I just need to run to the ladies’ for a minute.” She looked pointedly at Mo, who had just started to sit down again.
Mo popped back up. “I’ll join you.”
It turned out that the ladies’ room was a single, but Eliza pulled her friend inside with her anyway and slid the latch shut.
Mo backed up against the small sink. “Are you going to kill me?”
“I might.”
“Seriously, I wasn’t planning a setup. This other couple that Nik is friends with were supposed to come, but she got food poisoning. And Heather and Kaity from work bailed at the last minute.”
Eliza crossed her arms and stared at her.
“Really! I swear!” Mo made a crisscross in front of her heart. “Anyway, you’re here now, and we can just have a nice time. I’m sure you can use a distraction from everything that’s going on. And why should you waste that fabulous blowout?”
She could never stay mad at Mo for long. “Fine. Get out. I really do need to pee.”
“As long as you promise you won’t sneak out the back door.”
“I left my coat at the table, so no chance of that. Poor planning on my part.”
“Ha ha.”
After Mo left, she blinked at herself in the mirror. Her lipstick could use a touch-up, but she didn’t want to give Mo anything to gloat about.
The bottom line was, while she would have appreciated a heads-up, it was likely she would have bailed if she’d had one. And maybe this was exactly what she needed. She wasn’t missing Carter, but what was wrong with a little male companionship? And maybe Griffin could take her mind off Josh. Any fantasies her heart might have begun to spin about him , in violation of her better judgment, were a waste of time.
So, soon she was sitting at the table and letting Nik pour her a glass of wine.
Griffin turned to her. “You’re a college friend of Mo’s?”
She nodded, putting down her glass. “Guilty as charged. How about you? How do you know each other?” She gestured between Griffin and Nik.
“We actually went to high school together in New Jersey.”
“Cool.”
Over shared hummus and tzatziki with pita, the four talked about work and food and Mo’s obsession with Stranger Things .
Griffin passed Eliza the shared side of lemon potatoes. “What’s everyone doing for Thanksgiving?” he asked.
Eliza glanced at Mo and Nik, wondering if this was potentially awkward, given how new they were.
“Not sure yet,” Mo said. “My parents want me to come down to Maryland, but it’s such a terrible time of year to travel.”
Nik nodded. “My family is in California. Definitely not flying out there.”
In other words, Mo is thinking she’d like to spend the holiday with Nik, but isn’t sure about bringing him home to meet the parents.
Eliza passed the potatoes along to Mo. “I’ll probably go to my aunt’s.”
“Scott and Maren, too?” Mo asked.
She shook her head. “No, they’re going to Maren’s family in Vermont. But they’re having a Friendsgiving that Tuesday night, so we’ll still have a meal together.”
“That’s good.” Mo turned to Griffin. “Scott’s Eliza’s brother. They just lost their dad.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that.” The standard look of sympathy came across Griffin’s face, and Eliza realized how much she’d been enjoying the brief respite from anything related to Jack’s death and the fallout it engendered.
“Thanks.” Eliza took another swallow of wine, draining her glass.
“How’s everything with you and Scott?” Mo asked then.
Why does she think I’d want to talk about this in front of someone I’ve just met? She shrugged. “Dunno,” she said, realizing she sounded a bit like a belligerent teenager, before putting a forkful of grilled chicken into her mouth.
Griffin picked up the wine bottle. “Looks like we’re empty. Should we order another?”
A while later, they’d drained their second bottle of wine and shared two portions of baklava. When the check came, Nik and Griffin insisted on splitting it, making Eliza feel extremely awkward?—though the wine was helping dull some of her discomfort.
As they put on their coats and made their way to the exit, Mo whispered in her ear. “So what do you think? Nice guy, right?”
Eliza concentrated on not stumbling in her high-heeled boots. “I guess.”
She was surprised Griffin wasn’t more of a draw. Nice-looking, well spoken, employed?—he could be a good diversion. But then they were out on the sidewalk, all together again.
“This was fun,” Nik said. “We should do this again.”
“Definitely.” Griffin aimed a warm smile toward Eliza, and she tried to enjoy returning it.
Mo put her hand on Nik’s arm. “We’re gonna head home, but if you guys want to go for another drink or something...?”
Could Mo be any more obvious if she tried?
Eliza squeezed her friend’s free arm. “I totally would, but it’s been a really long week, and my bed is calling.”
Griffin laughed. “I totally get that. Sometimes I don’t even go out on Friday nights anymore. It’s just too hard. I need Friday night to recover so I have the energy to go out on Saturday. But which way are you going?”
“Uptown. Upper East.”
“Oh, too bad. I’m in Hell’s Kitchen. I would have suggested we share a cab.”
Eliza noticed that Mo and Nik had started to?—unsubtly?—move away from them.
“Are you guys leaving without saying good night?” she called out.
“No, no, no!”
And there was some hugging and cheek-kissing, and Eliza managed to scoot away without Griffin asking for her number. Partly because she wasn’t sure she wanted to give it, and partly because there was a chance that, if he did suggest they share a cab after all, she might have said yes.