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“Once I’m done with Jenny here.” Her smile widens and she adds, “Better yet, why don’t I give you a trim while you’re here?”
Without thinking, I run my fingers through my hair and stare at the ends. I could do with a trim.
“Sure.”
I flip through the magazines beside the couch as I wait for her to finish up with her client. What celebrity who’s wearing what or cheating on who doesn’t hold my attention for long and I flip through it in no time.
Evie handles her client with ease and her easy chat and friendly laugh gives the place a welcoming vibe.
The client gives her a generous tip when she pays and Evie thanks her as if the woman’s just given her a million quid. Once the woman is out of the door, Evie quickly sweeps the hair up and then ushers me into her chair. Throwing an apron around me, she pulls my hair back and combs it into place.
“How much do you want off?” she asks.
“Um…” I go to say just an inch or two, but what comes out is, “Cut it to my shoulders and put some layers in.”
Her eyes widen and she asks, “Are you sure? That’ll be quite a lot off.”
“Fuck it. It’s only hair, if I don’t like it, it’ll grow back.”
“Okay, then. Let’s do this.”
She does her thing and I enjoy being able to do things like this now without having to worry if the prison hairdresser who was locked up for fraud would “accidentally” slip the scissors and cut me.
“It’s good to see you out and about.”
“I can’t keep letting things I can’t control drag me down.”
“That’s a great way to live.”
“It’s easier said than done but I’ll get there.”
I watch her snip and cut in the mirror and gasp when my hair sits on my shoulders. I was twelve years old the last time my hair was this short. I read in a stupid magazine that men found women with longer hair more attractive. It was one of those silly hundred facts men like about women's articles. Ever since I’ve kept it long.
I remain quiet while she works in the layers and frames my face with a touch of feathering. How is it possible that a simple haircut can change how you feel about yourself?
“You like?” Evie asks.
“I love it. Thank you.”
She brushes the stray hairs from my shoulders and takes off the apron. I sit forward in the chair, trying to get a closer look at myself in the mirror.
It’s not only my hair that’s changed, I appear different.
“How much do I owe you?”
“Nothing. It was my pleasure.”
“I can’t not pay you anything, Evie. How much?”
“Nothing.”
The bell over the door pings and she welcomes her next client. While I put my jacket back on, I’m already planning on tucking some money into her purse later tonight when she’s home.
“Thank you, I’ll see you tonight.”
As she helps her client out of her coat and hangs it on the coat hook, she asks, “Are you going to be okay?”
“I’m gonna be just fine, babe.”
