Chapter Ten
I can do this. I can make new friends.
Watching Nash build a different life has emboldened me. Also, my lopsided breakup bangs have finally annoyed me into booking an appointment at the hair salon. Getting a blowout for our date is also a good idea.
It’s easy to be outgoing when you’re under the influence.
Vodka worked as social lubricant and loosened my tongue on my first outing to the local bar.
I shared both my rage at my ex and thoughts and feelings about life with a variety of people.
This was the night Nash arrived in town.
Since then, however, I’ve tended to keep to myself.
Spending time with Grandma and Nash and working.
With time and distance, I’m seeing my life in Phoenix differently.
There’s a strong chance I’ve been slacking.
Just coasting along, allowing my ex to organize things.
What bar he wanted to be seen at and which restaurant he wanted to try.
Who among his acquaintances we should spend time with this week.
I allowed myself to be towed along in his wake instead of standing my ground and making my own choices.
That shit needed to stop. Sabrina said Rose and Carmen would also be there this morning, which is why I walk into the hair salon with a box of cookies from the bakery down the street.
“Here’s a woman who knows what she’s doing,” says Sabrina with a smile. She’s painting Rose the bartender’s hair brilliant shades of purple and orange. So cool.
“Only when it comes to carbs.”
Rose reaches for a chocolate chip. It’s a solid choice.
There’s a reason why they’re a classic. And Carmen from the food truck goes for a coconut shortbread.
She’s busy having her hair washed by an apprentice named Hiro.
He’s a young Asian American man with the sides of his head shaved and his long hair tied back in a ponytail.
Hiro and Sabrina both set aside oatmeal and raisin cookies for later.
And lucky last is Bernadette, a petite woman with white skin, a very large purse on her lap, and her gray hair in rollers.
She declines joining in the sugar rush with the rest of us and keeps reading her magazine.
Sabrina sings along to the country song playing over the speakers. It isn’t by Aaron Porter, which is a good thing. We don’t want anyone to be reminded of him.
I don’t know what it is about sitting in a salon chair and coming face to face with your reflection in the mirror. It’s some unfortunate magic. The way you seem to have suddenly not slept in a week and your formerly clean hair goes limp.
Sabrina appears behind my chair and meets my gaze in the mirror. “How are you feeling?”
“Oh, fine,” I say.
“So you cut your own hair, huh? The last person I saw who tried to give themselves bangs was three.”
“Did they do a better job than me?”
“No, she did not. Hers was hacked off at the scalp. There was nothing I could do to stop the poor child from looking awkward for a while,” says Sabrina. “For you, however, I have hope.”
“That’s a relief.”
“You have beautiful hair but it’s too heavy. How would you feel about some long layers?” she asks.
“Long enough to still be able to tie back?”
“Yes.”
I nod. “Let’s do it.”
“Come accompany me to the sink then.”
My hair is being washed when Bernadette announces out of nowhere, “Harvey and I married four months after meeting at a dance.”
“He was your first husband, wasn’t he?” asks Sabrina.
Rose doesn’t look up from the cell in their hand. “Second.”
“Well who was first?”
“That was Leon,” answers Carmen.
Bernadette nods. “Lord, he was a handsome man. Worked in his daddy’s real estate office and drove a Cadillac. He was so proud of that car, washed it every day come rain or shine.”
“They got married after knowing each other only six weeks,” says Hiro, rinsing shampoo out of my hair.
I smile. “That’s so romantic. Guess you just knew he was the one.”
“What I knew was that we were going to have a baby,” Bernadette corrects me with much judgement. “Back in my day, people did what was right.”
“Isn’t it funny how social expectations and our ideas of right and wrong change over time?” I ask no one in particular. Forget being a soft target for the town gossips and general judginess.
Sabrina flashes me a smile.
“Oh, come on.” Carmen grins. “Six weeks, Bernie. You were getting up to something the local preachers wouldn’t have been happy about.”
“How was I to know the withdrawal method didn’t work?” Bernadette frowns. “Getting wed was and is the right thing to do, however.”
Rose’s answering snort is loud as can be. “Providing a safe, loving, and supportive home is the right thing to do.”
“You said it,” adds Carmen.
Sabrina unrolls one of Bernadette’s curlers to check on her hair. “I distinctly remember my granny saying you and Leon were miserable together. She said you were as unhappy as a pair of mismatched socks.”
“Are mismatched socks unhappy?” asks Rose, grabbing another cookie from the box.
Hiro shrugs and finishes up washing my hair by wrapping a towel around my head.
“Gloria always did love to gossip,” says Bernadette. “I swear it’s why she opened this place. Everyone who walked through that door heard all about whatever was on your grandma’s mind.”
“Tell us the truth about your first marriage, Bernie,” says Sabrina.
“Fine.” The older woman sighs. “I didn’t exactly cry myself to sleep when he started carrying on with his secretary.
Do you know he choked to death on a lobster roll while they were on a weekend away in the city?
Of course, he told me he was working. When I think of all the times I asked him to take me to Seattle and he’d say he was busy. ”
“Shame on him,” says Carmen.
“Are you trying to talk June into marriage or out of it?” asks Sabrina. “I can’t keep up.”
Bernadette hugs her huge purse to her chest. “Harvey and I made a better match, and our spring wedding was so pretty. Such a shame he got gored.”
“Your first husband choked to death on a lobster roll and your second husband got gored?” I ask in surprise, as Sabrina starts running a comb through my damp hair.
“That’s right. It was by his aunt Dorothea’s prize bull.” Bernadette shakes her head sadly. “If she told him once, she told him a hundred times not to play ball in that field. But would he listen?”
I stare at her in wonder.
She smiles sadly. “Harvey had a wonderful funeral. Such a big turnout. And of course there was the BBQ afterwards.”
“That poor cow,” I mumble.
“I think it would have turned me vegan,” says Hiro. “To be personally victimized by sources of protein that way.”
Rose nods.
Carmen raises her brows.
And Sabrina picks up her scissors. “How sad to lose the love of your life.”
“Oh, no,” says Bernadette. “Harvey wasn’t that. Don’t get me wrong. He was a good man. And a skilled dancer despite not being a fast sprinter. As I said, we met at a dance. But no… Vernon was the true love of my life.”
“Your third husband?” I ask.
“That’s right. Of course, he worked at the timber mill…”
“What happened to him?” I ask, half dreading the answer.
Bernadette raises her head in surprise. “Nothing. He’s at pickleball right now. We’ve had six children together.”
“You stuck with the withdrawal method, huh?” asks Sabrina with a grin.
“Very funny,” says Bernadette primly. “We both wanted a big family.”
“I salute you, Bernie,” says Rose. “You’re certainly a walking advertisement for adventures in matrimony.”
“I just know what’s the right thing to do.”
“That’s not true, Bernadette,” I say in a firm voice. “You know what the right thing to do for you is. Other people are entitled to decide for themselves.”
Her lips thin to a dangerous degree. The woman is not pleased.
“She’s right.” Carmen watches Hiro braid her hair in the mirror. “Though I’m not even convinced the piece of paper makes much of a difference.”
Bernadette’s brows draw tight together. “But you’ve been married for over a decade!”
“And it’s been damn hard work at times,” says Carmen. “People need to decide what’s best for themselves.”
“We need to talk about the baby shower sometime,” says Rose.
“Oh. That’s so kind of you.” Shit shit shit. “No need to worry about that. I mean…there’s ages to go.”
“You’re right, Rose,” agrees Carmen. “I bet the time is going to fly by.”
“Why don’t you plan a wedding at the same time,” grumbles Bernadette, who really should have taken a cookie because the woman could use some sweetening up.
“I love this song. It’s by that band…what’s their name?
” Sabrina rushes over to her cell on the counter to turn up the volume.
And rock music with a thumping base line fills the salon helping to drown out further conversation.
She gives me a wink in the mirror. Guess I’m not the only one who’s done with the judginess.
Seems everyone is smiling except for Bernadette. Whatever.
I’m on my way toward making some new friends. And it sucks that I’m lying to them.
“Sorry this isn’t some fancy restaurant,” says Nash, sitting opposite me.
Turns out the only place open on a Monday night in town is the bar. Though some fancy restaurant in a larger town or city would be dangerous, what with him being a world-famous musician.
“This is good.” I smile. “The company in particular is excellent.”
“And the hot dogs?”
“Who doesn’t love a hot dog?”
One side of his mouth rises. Making this man smile is officially one of my favorite things. “Can’t believe you don’t use mustard.”
“It’s just not my thing. And anyway, ketchup is my queen.”