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“Is there a hair salon?”
He blinked. “I don’t…know?”
I hoped there was one. I was sick to death of being reminded of how off I was physically, especially compared to the rest of my family. It shouldn’t matter, and I mostly didn’t care. But I could put a stop to it relatively easily, so I was going to do just that.
We found a salon with a tech with availability. She also said I could get waxed, if I wanted that. I might do a manicure and a pedicure, too. I hadn’t decided yet.
“You look familiar.” She was a little older than me. Probably she’d know who Layla was, if she came in, but I was the wrong sister.
“I have that kind of face. Sometimes people think I look like Layla Radford. I think it must be the hair.”
“Oh.” She brightened up. “Yes. You do. That socialite. Sure. What can we do for you today?” Her name was Sunny, and her hair matched the name.I bet no one ever said she looked almost like she’d been through a war and needed a blow dryer.
Why hadn’t Michael said anything? Of course, I hardly gave him the chance to say much. And I also didn’t know what he said when I fled to the bedroom.
Roy stood outside the salon, and I spotted Stephen down the block and across the street. Michael had sent out the whole group to watch over me.He’s nothing, if not thorough.
“Cut it off.”
She nodded, lifting a heavy lock in consideration. “Cut it how short? I can see there’s a curl to it that you don’t see because the length weighs it down. You’re going to have curls, if I cut too much of it off.”
That was perfect. Even if I looked like little orphan Bridget, I wasn’t leaving this salon today letting anyone say that I was a bad version of my sisters ever again. Maybe Layla’s hair waved a little? But I would be my own person, starting with this.
I’m cutting my hair. I texted my sisters. I hadn’t spoken to them in days.It may be a mistake but that’s what I’m doing.
“My shoulders,” I told the hairdresser.
I might live to regret the moment, but it was my mistake to make.
“You’re so pretty,”Sunny said hours later as I considered my reflection in her mirror. I missed lunch and took up most of her day, but I kept her busy. After so long together, she knew my name was Bridget yet didn’t seem to put two and two together that I was related to Layla.
Which suited me just fine.
She waxed my eyebrows and my nether regions, so I was now hairless, as I preferred. My formerly waist-length straight hair curled like it had been waiting to do so my whole life, sospirals of it bounced to my shoulders. It seemed darker too, since she’d cut away a lot of sun damage from years of not caring. Still red but not so strawberry now, and the curls fascinated me. We gabbed about movies while she painted my nails, and just because she was a sweetheart, she gave me a new lip gloss to take home.
Roy ran in to pay as I rose.That’s good, because I forgot to think about money.
I shook my head, frustrated with myself. How spoiled was I? I’d do better in the future.
I thanked her, and when Roy handed me cash, I tipped her generously.
“You look beautiful.” Roy smiled at me. “He’s going to swallow his tongue. He’d be here, and he tried to be, but Stephen told him you needed some space and that he should do his PT or you’d be madder.”
Stephen appeared as if summoned, then walked toward us from across the street. “Look at you, Bridget. You’ve always been gorgeous but this is something else.”
Roy elbowed him. “He really wouldn’t like you talking about her that way. Come on. He’s texted every ten minutes since the physical therapist left.”
“Maybe we could stop for some coffee, then?” I asked with an ornery grin.
Michael hadn’t done anything wrong, since it wasn’t his fault another lover of his dropped by to nurse him. But it still pissed me off, and maybe I did have some of that redhead temper people were always bringing up.
“Sure.” Stephen nodded. “Let’s get a coffee.”
Roy sighed. “Fuck.”
We took our time ordering coffee and then headed back to Michael’s house just as the sun was starting to come down over the horizon. I’d stayed out the whole day.
The door was flung open, and an obviously pissed off Michael stormed from the house. I didn’t even open the door to the car before he did it for me and hauled me out. I had the straw for the iced coffee still in my mouth when I blinked up at him.
