MY TRIP TO THE MALLturns out to be less of a nightmare than I thought, and my car is filled with shopping bags. It’s true that I had to keep veering away from the styles my mother would wear, but with a little determination, I am now the very happy owner of a decidedly comfortable collection of clothing.
If the salesperson at Banana Republic gets paid on commission, she was probably damn pleased with me. Soft cotton shirts¸ pullover hoodies, wrap sweaters, and flowy tanks and sundresses for the warm weather that’s approaching. And jeans! I bought jeans at every store I went into. Jeans and I are going to have a full-on love affair. As much as I have a fondness for Sam’s clothes, I feel good about the girl clothes that I wear out of the store. I also feel damn good about having a new phone with a new number that nobody knows.
Before my five o’clock hair appointment with Kelly that Sam made for me, I stop into Tail Spin, a small restaurant that reminds me of an Irish pub. I’ve never been inside any, but with all the wood booths and dark beer, it’s what I imagine one might look like.
The owner, Pete, seems to take a liking to me and buys me a beer on the house. This is the first time that I’ve eaten today, and I inhale the fish and chips that come with malt vinegar and huge fries before getting a second beer, liquid courage for this hairy adventure I’m about to take. I let out an undeniably large belch and giggle. My mother would have a fit over my manners, but Pete gives me an air high five from behind the bar.
Just before I walk into Kelly’s salon, Girl to Girl, I send Sam a text, so he has my new cell number. I sort of liked not having a phone, but it seems stupid not to. A new number, however, maintains my clean start. He texts back a picture of himself with white paint all over the front of his shirt with a message that assures me he will shower before dinner. I’m still smiling when I go through the front door. I mean, how can I not? The thought of Sam in a shower…all wet and soaped up…
Oh my God, I have to stop.
The salon is tiny, but it’s got such personality with wild artwork hanging on every available inch of wall space. Each of the four client chairs is covered in black-and-hot pink leopard print, the front desk is littered with figurines and small toys, and various chimes and feathery things dangle from the ceiling. It’s clutter at its best, and I have no doubt that Kelly is someone who knows herself well.
“Hi, I’m Stella. I have an appointment with Kelly,” I say.
“Aha! The famous Stella. Come on over, and grab a seat. I’m Kelly.”
Sam’s sister is tall and striking. Thick jet-black curls frame her face and then fall wildly toward her waist. Not to mention, she has a body I’d kill for. If I could pull off wearing that outfit, I’d be thrilled. Her red leather pants and tight black tank top are practically glued to her body.
She stands behind me when I sit in the chair and rests her hands on my shoulders. “You’re renting the apartment at Sam’s place, huh?”
I love her husky voice. She’s both assertive and warm, and I am immediately at ease.
“Yeah. I just sort of up and moved and landed here.”
“Well, he seems pretty happy about it, so I’m happy about it.” She runs her fingers through my hair. “What are we doing today? I gather you had a little fun with scissors.”
I clear my throat. “I, perhaps, might have had a small fit and chopped off my hair, so I need to be rescued.”
“Not rescued. Just shaped. And maybe we can get rid of the color on the ends. Just take you back to more of your natural root color? A dark brown with some lighter chestnut pieces? You’ve got nice curls for a shorter cut. Kind of a pinup-girl look but without being whorish.”
The wide silver bracelets on each of her wrists make me think of Wonder Woman. I’m in good hands.
Two hours later, I stare at the mirror in disbelief at my transformation.
Kelly frowns and sets her hands on her hips. “Well, shit. You hate it. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. It’s perfect.” I’m too dumbfounded to say anything else. I feel like me, like how I’m supposed to look.
“Yay!” Her hands cheer in the air. “You look hot, not that you didn’t look hot when you walked in here, mind you. But now, you lookreallyhot. If Sam wasn’t clearly obsessed with you and if I didn’t already have a girlfriend, I just might hit on you. As it is, you’re now relegated to hot-sister status.”
I can’t help from laughing, and I turn my head up to her and grin. “So, um…Sam is…obsessed with me?”
She shrugs. “My sullen, angry mopey brother is finally acting like a human being again. He won’t admit that it’s because of you, but I knew it had to be when he called and ordered me to take care of you. I couldn’t get him off the phone. Even before that, over the last several days, he’s been calling me and bringing me coffee and shit. I knew something was up.”
Kelly looks at my reflection in the mirror, and I hold her eye contact.
“Your hair is on the house today. You gave me back my brother.”
I try to figure out how I should respond, to ask how she lost him—or how he lost himself—when I am jolted by a terrifying crash, and the entire front window of the store virtually explodes in a firestorm of glass. Before I can react, Kelly grabs my shoulder and pulls me to the floor as crystal pellets fly across the room. Outside the salon, someone yells something that I can’t understand, and the sound of a car peeling out echoes through the now eerily silent street.
“Goddamn it!” Kelly screams. Her fingers dig into me before she pushes herself to a stand. “You okay?” she asks.
My heart is pounding, but I look up at her and nod. I’m not hurt.
A slender young woman flies in from a back room. “Jesus Christ. Again?”
Kelly sighs angrily. “When is this shit going to end?”
