Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 69333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
“You want to take me on a date?”
“Very much so.”
“I would love that,” I say.
He smiles and I smile and well, at least there are two of us smiling. Nash and I are moving next door to have sex. And to spend quality time together, of course. This is going to be great.
CHAPTER TEN
I can do this. I can make new friends.
Watching Nash build a different life has emboldened me. Also, my lopsided breakup bangs have finally annoyed me into booking an appointment at the hair salon. Getting a blowout for our date is also a good idea.
It’s easy to be outgoing when you’re under the influence. Vodka worked as social lubricant and loosened my tongue on my first outing to the local bar. I shared both my rage at my ex and thoughts and feelings about life with a variety of people. This was the night Nash arrived in town. Since then, however, I’ve tended to keep to myself. Spending time with Grandma and Nash and working.
With time and distance, I’m seeing my life in Phoenix differently. There’s a strong chance I’ve been slacking. Just coasting along, allowing my ex to organize things. What bar he wanted to be seen at and which restaurant he wanted to try. Who among his acquaintances we should spend time with this week. I allowed myself to be towed along in his wake instead of standing my ground and making my own choices.
That shit needed to stop. Sabrina said Rose and Carmen would also be there this morning, which is why I walk into the hair salon with a box of cookies from the bakery down the street.
“Here’s a woman who knows what she’s doing,” says Sabrina with a smile. She’s painting Rose the bartender’s hair brilliant shades of purple and orange. So cool.
“Only when it comes to carbs.”
Rose reaches for a chocolate chip. It’s a solid choice. There’s a reason why they’re a classic. And Carmen from the food truck goes for a coconut shortbread. She’s busy having her hair washed by an apprentice named Hiro. He’s a young Asian American man with the sides of his head shaved and his long hair tied back in a ponytail. Hiro and Sabrina both set aside oatmeal and raisin cookies for later. And lucky last is Bernadette, a petite woman with white skin, a very large purse on her lap, and her gray hair in rollers. She declines joining in the sugar rush with the rest of us and keeps reading her magazine.
Sabrina sings along to the country song playing over the speakers. It isn’t by Aaron Porter, which is a good thing. We don’t want anyone to be reminded of him.
I don’t know what it is about sitting in a salon chair and coming face to face with your reflection in the mirror. It’s some unfortunate magic. The way you seem to have suddenly not slept in a week and your formerly clean hair goes limp.
Sabrina appears behind my chair and meets my gaze in the mirror. “How are you feeling?”
“Oh, fine,” I say.
“So you cut your own hair, huh? The last person I saw who tried to give themselves bangs was three.”
“Did they do a better job than me?”
“No, she did not. Hers was hacked off at the scalp. There was nothing I could do to stop the poor child from looking awkward for a while,” says Sabrina. “For you, however, I have hope.”
“That’s a relief.”
“You have beautiful hair but it’s too heavy. How would you feel about some long layers?” she asks.
“Long enough to still be able to tie back?”
“Yes.”
I nod. “Let’s do it.”
“Come accompany me to the sink then.”
My hair is being washed when Bernadette announces out of nowhere, “Harvey and I married four months after meeting at a dance.”
“He was your first husband, wasn’t he?” asks Sabrina.
Rose doesn’t look up from the cell in their hand. “Second.”
“Well who was first?”
“That was Leon,” answers Carmen.
Bernadette nods. “Lord, he was a handsome man. Worked in his daddy’s real estate office and drove a Cadillac. He was so proud of that car, washed it every day come rain or shine.”
“They got married after knowing each other only six weeks,” says Hiro, rinsing shampoo out of my hair.
I smile. “That’s so romantic. Guess you just knew he was the one.”
“What I knew was that we were going to have a baby,” Bernadette corrects me with much judgement. “Back in my day, people did what was right.”
“Isn’t it funny how social expectations and our ideas of right and wrong change over time?” I ask no one in particular. Forget being a soft target for the town gossips and general judginess.
Sabrina flashes me a smile.
“Oh, come on.” Carmen grins. “Six weeks, Bernie. You were getting up to something the local preachers wouldn’t have been happy about.”