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“I don’t do girly shit.” Told you that before.
“Well, you wouldn’t want to waste all this money, and I promised Lucy I would send pictures, so–” Fuck!
“Since my dad died, no one’s been this nice to me.” A single tear ran down my cheek.
Rosie smiled. “You need better people in your life.”
We laughed together.
I missed the sound of laughter.
***
Beside the kitchen sink, Lucy shook a bottle of color base. The brown roots lining my scalp agreed, it was time for a color day. The hair on the front of the box was a deep shiny black. As long as the sunny brown my mom loved disappeared, I’d be content.
“You sure you know what you’re doing?” There weren’t many people I trusted with my hair.
“Rosie, where do you keep the scissors?” Lucy rummaged through a few drawers before pulling out the item she was looking for. “Never mind. Found some.”
She cut the end off of the developer.
“Don’t worry. She was a professional beautician before I was born.” Rosie assured me.
I knew the steps like the back of my hand. I’d been coloring my own hair for years.
“Oh! I forgot to shake it.” She placed a finger over the section she cut and moved to shake the bottle.
“Wait! Put gloves on first.” Sitting at our breakfast nook painting her nails, Rosie rescued her mom from disaster.
The merlot color matched Rosie’s persona perfectly. Fierce and feisty. A dark navy polish sat on the table next to her. I wasn’t one of those girls who matched her fingernails to her clothes, but the shirt she gave me would go great with that color.
Lucy placed a towel over my shoulders.
“Ready?” She mixed the color and the developer behind me.
No. Not really.
The scent of ammonia hit the side of my face like a fumbled pass. With a deep breath I replied, “Let’s do it.”
Lucy applied the first cold swipe of color to my roots. I closed my eyes. Partly because Rosie was slinging color all over the place, but also to relax and enjoy the experience.
She jerked my head from side to side, up and down. Ouch. I promised myself I’d never let anyone else color my hair ever again.
Rosie blew air on her nails. The longer the velveteen color dried, the better it looked.
“Want me to paint yours next?” She asked as Lucy set a timer for my hair.
The experts say that thin hair usually takes less time. I usually don’t wait as long as the box says I should. But, Lucy was a professional, or so Rosie said... Hopefully, I didn’t end up with patches of dry, brittle hair.
“I like the blue.” I nodded to Rosie, distracting myself from worrying about my hair.
“I knew you would.” She grabbed the bottle and twisted off the cap.
“How are you feeling about tomorrow?” She carefully painted my thumb nail.
I cocked a brow.
“What If you bump into Chase? Do you think he’ll talk to you?” She worked the tiny brush across each nail.
