Remy
REMY
T he way into my heart is via my stomach.
I stop by a supermarket to fill up on snacks and arrive three minutes early.
Immediately, something feels off. I enter her studio and Nova doesn’t make eye contact; our hug is brief and almost professional.
She even looks different; her once bronze and dewy skin looks dry and tired today, and her usual maintenance of eyelash extensions, threaded eyebrows, and gel manicures have seemingly taken a back seat.
I sit in front of the mirror, not mentioning any of this, and present my snacks, but Nova only pats her stomach.
“On a diet,” she says. I inwardly flinch because the last time Nova mentioned being on a diet was because David had put her on a weight loss plan cleverly disguised as a couple’s health and fitness regime.
I know not to mention this, so I don’t, but all the other conversations I do attempt to start, about work, writing, baby Isaiah, Lin’s recent work trip to Boston, all taper off.
“Okay,” Nova says, still keeping eye contact to a minimum. “Let’s get started, yeah?”
There’s the professionalism, again. Last time I got my hair done, she started off with, “Ready to look like a brand-new bitch?” So, this is a dramatic turn of events.
Nova begins blow-drying my hair but stops to say, “Your hair’s thicker than usual? You been doing something different?”
I shake my head. “No, nothing different.” I consider my hair in the mirror; it’s technically quite fine but there’s always been a lot of it.
Now that I think about it, my hair does look thicker.
I recall the old wives’ tale I’d read online and look down at my nails—do they look healthier?
I only ask myself this because… doesn’t that mean I’m having a boy?
I don’t know how to process this possibility. I know Mum will be pleased; she’d love the opportunity to indoctrinate a boy to feminism early on.
Should I tell Nova now? It’s the only real opportunity I’ve had for weeks, but with how uncomfortable it’s been between us so far, I don’t know how to bring it up. I need to find a way to get rid of the tension somehow.
Nova puts away the blow-dryer, and running her hands through my hair, she sighs. “I’ve always been obsessed with your hair.”
“I’ve always been obsessed with you.”
Nova finally looks at me through the mirror and the corner of her mouth starts to twitch until we both laugh.
“Still with the corny shit, huh?” she finally says. “You’re cute.”
And just like that, I feel the ice break.
“How’s life in the hair world?” I ask.
“Business has been good.” She smiles wide.
“Really good, actually. Thinking of getting a bigger studio, hiring some people, so I can get more days off.” She moves to stand in front of me, placing the end of a tail comb in the middle of my nose to part my hair in the center.
I notice the dark circles under her eyes and almost reach out to hug her hard.
Instead, I cross my eyes and stick out my tongue as if about to lick her and she laughs again, telling me to fuck off because she needs to concentrate.
I smell her perfume before she returns to the back of my head.
I offer up my opened bag of crisps again. “Sure you don’t want one?”
She considers the bag then leans forward, opening her mouth for me to feed her while her hands are busy. She sighs with gratitude.
“How’s David?”
It’s a risk, and maybe one I shouldn’t have taken because the coldness returns when she answers. “Good. We’re both really good.”
“Good.” I nod at her via the mirror. “I’m happy.”
She scoffs. “No, you’re not.”
“Nova, don’t say that.”
“Am I wrong?”
“Yes. If you’re genuinely happy, then so am I.”
“Hmm, maybe you are. Lin gave me so much shit for getting back with David. I haven’t spoken to her since.”
“Lin just worries.”
“And you don’t?”
I turn to face her. “It’s different. I keep the peace while Lin’s more straightforward. You once said that’s what you loved most about her.”
“Well, she’s not here anymore,” Nova says. “She left. I’m too old to still be single.”
“Nova, you’re only twenty-nine!”
“I’m twenty-five! I’m twenty- five with a timeline.” She folds her arms stubbornly. “You don’t get it. I want what Mel has, just less…”
“Traditional?” I offer.
“I was gonna say boring, but yeah.”
Hesitantly, I turn back to the mirror and say, “If you want what Mel has, don’t you need a Felix?”
“I don’t want Mel’s man! He’s short.”
“He’s five foot ten, and I didn’t say Felix, I said a Felix.”
Nova bites the inside of her cheek and says quietly, “We can’t all have a Felix; there aren’t enough to go around. I can’t waste my life trying to find what doesn’t exist. You’d know that if you dated, and Lin only dates casually, so you both shouldn’t be saying much about it.”
“So… Melissa thinks David is right for you?”
“Melissa’s busy with her baby.”
“But she never liked…”
“Remy!” We make eye contact in the mirror again. “Leave it alone.”
I nod. The rest of our appointment passes in silence, and Nova doesn’t lean forward for another crisp again.