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“Yeah, that works,” he says, still grinning excitedly while his phone screen populates with what I can now see is highlights from last night’s Tigers game.
Ick,I inwardly cringe. I hate baseball, and for good reason.
“Did you not catch the game last night?” I ask as I start wetting his hair, even though I couldn’t care less. I should really steer this conversation back to his soon-to-be wife and child.
“No, it was date night last night,” he murmurs, without taking his eyes off the screen.
Wow. He really is done for. I think the immediate female population either wants to take Annie down or shake her hand about now.
Tyler seems pretty enthralled with his updates so I leave him be, getting to work on cleaning up his ends until he makes me jump when he sees something he doesn’t like.
“Ah, dammit!” he growls.
“You okay?” I ask, checking his neck to make sure I didn’t nick him with the clippers.
“Oh… yeah, I just knew this guy was going to be trouble,” he fills me in, looking up at me in the mirror and then back to his phone again.
“Who?”
“Chicago’s new designated hitter. Evan McKenzie…”
Tyler continues to talk about some batting average numbers that wouldn’t mean a thing to me even if my heart weren’t hardening into the heaviest rock my chest could hold. It’s pounding hard in my chest, yet ice is running through my veins. Tyler’s voice sounds a million miles away, and my stomach just turned over.
I halt my actions so as not to give Tyler a bald patch while I recover from hearing that name again. I swallow hard and then clear my throat while I try to compose myself. I peek over Tyler’s shoulder to get a better look at his screen and he holds it up so I can see. Sure enough, the face I never thought I’d see again fills the small screen as he takes a few practice swings at the plate. Tan skin, broad shoulders, a fade of hair disappearing underneath his helmet, and my daughter’s cocoa brown eyes set in a look of intense concentration as he stares down the pitcher. His strong jawline ticks as his molars grind down on what is sure to be a chewed-up stick of cinnamon flavored gum, a nervous habit when he plays.
“Kasey?” Tyler’s voice is suddenly loud and clear again, and I release the shuddery breath that feels like it was trapped in my throat for a decade. “Kasey?” he prods again. “Are you okay?”
I take a deep breath and straighten up. I try to refocus on his hair, trying to find where I left off.
“Yeah,” I nod, looking probably about as convincing as Luna when she tries to tell me with a purple tongue that she didn’t sneak a popsicle. “Just the July heat, I think. Just got a little woozy for a second, but I’m fine.”
Bullshit. We’re in an air-conditioned building, but Tyler thankfully seems to let it slide.
I concentrate hard on the rest of the haircut, double and triple checking that everything is even seeing as how my world just went spinning off its axis and into another dimension.
I keep myself stitched tightly together as I finish up with Tyler and give him all the farewell and congrats pleasantries, but as soon as he’s out the door, I feel my shoulders slouch and the color drain out of my face. I turn and head straight to the back exit. The sudden rush of heat from the outside combined with the wrecking ball from the past that crashed into my gut are enough to make me lose my lunch in the trash can drum we keep by the door.
When I’m sure there’s nothing left, I move over to the brick wall of the salon and sink to a squat with my elbows resting on my knees and my head in my hands. I try some square breathing, blocking out the rest of the world while I try and get a grip.
This is a dream… or the Twilight Zone… or Hell.
Oh my God, world, please stop spinning. Stop the noise inside my head. Stop the cold, dark, beast that’s tearing around inside me. Give me a magic pill to make it all go away…
NO.
But this is an emergency. The crazy, chaotic feelings swirling around in my mind and my body are taking over, and I need something to calm them down. To soothe me, to make everything okay; to make everything just slow down so that I can-
No, no, no, no…
I urge my intellect and sense of logic to take over, frantically shaking the reins at them as I try to talk myself down.
No matter what you tell yourself, it won’t be justonetime, I tell myself.You’ll crave it again, and again. You need to control your addiction, not the other way around. Do not lose Luna. Do not lose the one good thing to come from meeting that son of a bitch. Do not let him capsize everything you’ve worked for.
My vital signs are just starting to equalize when the steel door screeches open against the pavement and Katy and Lizzie wander out, looks of concern etched all over both their faces.
Lizzie takes one look at me and immediately ducks back inside but is back seconds later with a can of 7-Up that she cracks open and hands to me as Katy crouches down next to me.
“Kasey? Are you alright? What happened?” She asks in rapid succession.
