by Katie Cross
“How were they?” I asked as I stood up.
“Angels.” Jade’s smile belied my suspicion. I must have imagined it. “Thanks again for letting us have them unexpectedly tonight. It was the perfect way to celebrate my birthday.”
“Of course.”
Daniel hooked an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. Although I tried not to see it, a warm glow emanated between them. There was outright adoration in Jade’s eyes when she glanced at him with a small smile, and something unspoken crossed between them. The way he kept her anchored close baffled me. They could have had their own Stephanie James movie.
We had never been like that.
Lizzy unwound from me and threw herself against Jade’s legs. “One more dance?” she pleaded.
Jade bowed with a flourish of her hand. “I could never say no to Queen Daffodalia.”
The two of them swept back, waltzing on the porch. Daniel laughed as he watched.
Geez. He was so happy.
“GI Lana!” Lana screamed, then barreled around me and threw herself into her father’s arms. Daniel caught her at the last second with an oomph while Jade and Lizzy continued to twirl on the porch, giggling. My throat tightened. They looked just the way I had wanted to look with Daniel.
A perfect family.
A current of sadness swept through me. Underneath it bubbled something I didn’t understand. Like a river cutting through years of bitterness piled like bedrock on my heart. Daniel had everything I wanted. That I’d worked hard for.
So why couldn’t I have it, too?
Why should Daniel get to destroy our lives and then move on when I couldn’t? Why should he get my dreams?
He shouldn’t.
Those were mine.
In the few seconds that passed while Jade, Daniel, and the girls played on the porch, something clicked. Something that I hadn’t seen before, but I understood so clearly now. What I had been doing all these years was not living. At least, not moving on. Not letting go.
No, I’d been angry. Bitter. Resentful. Although I loved my girls, I’d held myself back from being…
Me.
Instead, I’d allowed Daniel’s decisions to dictate how the rest of my life played out. Being a single mom had permeated every aspect of my life until I didn’t know myself without it. I couldn’t even figure out how to do self-care—which seemed like the simplest thing in the world to other people. Did it have to be that way? Everything had been affected by the divorce and his infidelity, from my career to my time management to my eating … to my lack of knowing myself. But it didn’t have to. Not anymore.
I had a choice.
And I’d be damned if he lived, but I didn’t.
“Okay, girls, time to get ready for bed,” I said. New authority rang in my voice. “Tell them thank you for such a wonderful night.”
Lana disentangled herself from Daniel’s arms while Lizzy took one last bow, bestowing a blessing upon her subject. Both shuffled dutifully inside, waving over their shoulders. Daniel grabbed his phone and started sifting through it, leaving with a half-wave as he turned.
“Thanks, Bitsy,” Jade said, pushing hair out of her eyes. “We’ll see you next weekend. We plan on taking them to the waterpark two hours away. That all right?”
“Oh. Yeah. Of course. I’m sure they’ll love that.”
“Good.”
“Night.” I shut the door and stepped inside.
No more, indeed.
Not only would I figure out just what self-care I needed, but I’d give Daniel exactly what he wanted next week: the opportunity to be a father. In all its mundane, dreary, difficult glory. From here on out, Daniel would take responsibility for the girls, too.
And all the ugly duties that came with it.
“When was the last time you had your hair cut?”
Janae, a young girl with teal hair and bright brown eyes, stood behind me with a tapered gaze. She couldn’t have been more than twenty-two, with a pixie face and a ballerina-like body. A comb and a pair of scissors waited in one hand, like a drawn sword. I couldn’t help but wonder how Mira knew her. She’d raved about her for twenty minutes when I called to ask her where I should get my hair cut.
“It’s been a while,” I said. “I don’t actually remember the last time.”
She tilted her head.
“Hmm…”
I sat in a salon filled with the heady, sharp smell of shampoo and hair dye. Bright light filled the room, illuminating dust motes in the air. I clutched my purse a little tighter. When I glanced up, the woman in the mirror looked tired. Bags under her eyes. Limp hair resting on her shoulders. Several seconds passed before I realized she was me.
I straightened, reciting my new refrain.
No more.
Surely, self-care this drastic was a testament to my new outlook on life.
Janae pulled strands of my hair through her fingers while she chewed on her bottom lip. The gentle tug on my head wasn’t unpleasant. I’d kept my hair long because I wanted it out of my face while cleaning. Nothing sounded more horrific than bending over someone’s toilet bowl and having my hair fall into it.
Janae rested her hands on the chair behind me. “You know what I think?”
“No…”
“I think it’s time to go short.”
“No.”
“Whoa, girl. That was fast.”
“I can’t go short.”
“Can’t? How come? You’d rock a pixie cut. Trust me. I only recommend a pixie to those who can really handle it.”
“I don’t have the face.”
“You definitely do.”
“I have a bowling-ball face.”
She rolled her eyes. “Do not, but whatever. Listen, Bitsy, it’s up to you. My professional opinion is a pixie cut for three reasons. One, you have the facial structure. Two, it would be really easy to manage with your kids and job. And three, the blonde highlights would jazz up your light brown hair.”
“Highlights?”
“We’d definitely add highlights.”
“H-how much would that cost?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Yes it does!”
Janae waved a hand through the air. “Mira’s got this. She already paid me.”
My jaw dropped. Janae grinned and leaned forward, arms folded across the back of the chair.
“The big question is this: do you want a change? Or do you just want a scalp massage and a quick trim? I’m here to make you feel happy. Although Mira did warn me you’d be resistant.”
A thousand replies stuck in my throat while I stared at my reflection. My hair definitely needed a change. A simple trim wouldn’t satisfy. I just looked so … weary.
But what if it didn’t look good?
Then it will grow out, said a quiet voice in my head. One so quiet I thought I’d imagined it at first.
Eventually, it would grow out.
What did it matter until then, anyway? I wasn’t dating anyone. Nor did I have hopefuls on the horizon. What would my daughters say? Would they feel like they’d lost their mother? No. Lizzy loved any sort of girly change. Lana probably wouldn’t notice for several weeks. The idea did send a thrill through me.
Maybe I owed it to myself.
No more subpar living. No more. That meant taking risks. Jade probably took risks all the time—like marrying Daniel. With a deep breath, I nodded.
“Okay, I’ll trust you. Go for it. But I’m going to keep my eyes closed until it’s over.”
She grinned and pointed a comb at me.
“You got it.”
The next thirty minutes passed with heart palpitations, snipping scissors, and the feathery feel of hair skimming my neck. With careful attention to my breathing, I managed to keep myself from launching out of the chair and running through the front door.
This is me trying new things. This is me living life. This is me letting go of the past to move into the future.
This is me doing something for
me.
Self-care.
Before I was ready for it, she was mixing up the bleach. Despite the sharp smell, it felt cool on my scalp. Knowing Mira had already paid took some of the tension out of the event. By the time Janae rinsed my hair, massaged my scalp, styled me, and spun the chair around, my nerves had almost frayed out.
“I am the best,” she muttered. “Seriously still got it. Ready for the big reveal, Bitsy-babe?”
“No.”
She laughed. “Well, too late now!”
Courage, I thought. No more fear.
When I opened my eyes, I blinked several times. A seemingly new woman stared back in the mirror. Hair was short, tapered, cut in an edgy array around my face that, honestly, made me look ten pounds lighter and at least twelve years younger. The highlights added a touch of color to my otherwise-lackluster hair that made everything brighter. I reached up, touching the ends at the back of my neck.
“Is that … me?”
Janae grinned, eyes sparkling, and patted me on the shoulder. “Totally. You’re a whole new woman.”
She had no idea.
I leaned forward. No hair hung on my neck. No bun, no strands in my way. I touched the short, feather-soft tips with a feeling of disbelief. It actually looked…
Beautiful.
“It’s … it’s not too much?” I asked, breathless.
Janae shook her head. “Not even a little. In fact, I think you look better without all the hair. Some women can pull this off. You’re one of them. I would never have suggested it if you didn’t have such a great face shape. Do you like it?”
“I really do. I hadn’t seen my cheekbones like this before, but…”
“Right? I told you. You have what it takes. There’s something about a new haircut that just changes the way we see ourselves, isn’t there? It’s why I adore this job.”
“Yeah. It … it certainly seems like it, anyway.”
My fear over the girls seeing it faded. It wasn’t so drastically different or terrifying. It was … fresh. Young. So not me. Which might have been the best part.
I straightened, holding my shoulders back a little farther. No more, I reminded myself. My chin lifted.
My turn to live.
“Thanks, Janae. Really. I needed this.”
She winked and twirled the cover off my shoulders.
“We always do, my friend. We always do.”
When I pulled up to the house and parked, the shock hadn’t faded. I glanced at the mirror again, touching it with my fingers once more. I had actually done something dramatic. Drastic. I smiled. This light, giddy feeling inside was definitely self-care.
Jim sat on his porch, a mug in hand, when I stepped out of the car. From where I stood, I could barely see his eyes narrow. Then he raised one hand in a thumbs-up.
With a nonchalant wave, I headed into the house, an extra bounce in my step.
New Don’t Pass Out conversation opened in WonderFriendApp
Opened by: BITSY
Bitsy: Did the selfie come through?
Lexie: OMG.
Megan: Bitsy … I’m speechless.
Rachelle: This HAS to be a practical joke.
Mira: Congratulations, Bitsy! The new haircut is stunning. It’s so you. Did you take this selfie yourself? Isn’t Janae amazing?
Bitsy: I will never admit that I took a selfie—not even to send to you.
Lexie: There is no emoticon to cover my surprise. Bitsy, did someone come into your house in the middle of the night and hack all your hair off?
Megan: And add stunning highlights?
Rachelle: Then force you to do an actual selfie against your will?
Bitsy: Hardly.
Megan: She’d never let anyone cause that big of a mess.
Lexie: ^ true
Bitsy: I decided to try it out, and it, thankfully, worked out in my favor.
Mira: A very brave move. I adore it.
Rachelle: Major props, Bitsy. You took a big risk there, and it looks awesome.
Megan: You HAVE to feel like a thousand bucks right now. Am I right?
Bitsy: It’s true. I do.
Lexie: Totally worth it.
Mira: You’re a babe, Bitsy.
Bitsy: I’ll see you all Friday afternoon. The girls will be with their father, so it’ll be just me and my hair. Text me with questions. Article forthcoming.
Conversation CLOSED by BITSY
Later that night, as I finished turning off the lights and quietly closing the open snack cupboard, I noticed something flicker outside. With the house dark, I moved beside the front room drapes and peered out. A car sat right in front of Jim’s house. No, not a car.
A limousine.
Sleek black doors with deeply tinted windows ran all the way down its long body. The driver strode to the back. Seconds after he opened the door, a pair of legs stretched out.
A beautiful pair of legs.
Grateful that my silhouette couldn’t be seen, I moved the drapes to the side and leaned forward to see better. A woman, definitely. She stood up, locks of shiny black hair spilling onto her shoulders. She wore an elegant pantsuit and heels that I would have killed myself in. I was too far away to make out facial features or her age.
Before I could absorb more details, Jim appeared, a mere shadow in the night. He jogged down the lawn and threw his arms around the woman in a warm bear hug. My throat almost closed. That was the kind of hug a woman only dreamed about. My cheeks heated as I caught myself thinking about it a little too much.
He seemed to say something to the driver, who tipped his hat and placed a black suitcase on the sidewalk. Jim kept an arm around the woman and steered her toward the house while also towing the bag. She walked on his other side, which obscured her from my view. They disappeared into the shadows as the chauffeur closed the door. With another flash, the limo drove into the night. I stared at the road, stymied.
Did Jim have a famous girlfriend?
Who would drive a limo into this neighborhood? We weren’t the ghetto, but we weren’t far off. Besides, who needed a limo this late? Someone that had been to an event, maybe. Someone swimming in cash? Someone really lucky, for sure.
The drapes fell back into place as I backed away, retreated into my bedroom, and lay in bed with my mind spinning.
Did Jim have a girlfriend?
When morning broke, the sun burned bright, heralding summer. After stumbling out of bed, bleary-eyed, I put a pot on for green tea and stared at the front yard. No limo. No one in the yard. Nothing out of the ordinary.
I reached for my walking shoes, then stopped.
No, I thought. I’m not in the mood to walk.
Maybe I’d go crazy and take a break from working out. The thought sent a streak of anxiety through me, but surely one day wouldn’t break me. When I logged into my calorie-counting app, I realized it had been over seven months since I’d skipped a workout except due to illness.
Definitely wouldn’t kill me.
After checking the empty dishwasher, wiping down the inside—and outside—of the fridge, and getting breakfast ready, I remembered that I’d already cleaned the house the night before.
“You okay, Mom?”
Lizzy stared at me, one eyebrow raised, as she sat at the table. I stood at the kitchen window, hands on my hips, and stared at Jim’s driveway.
“What? Oh, yes, honey. Just fine. Thanks.”
“Something wrong?”
“Nope. Here’s some scrambled eggs. Eat up. Mrs. Johnson will be here soon.”
“Thanks.”
Wild scenarios spun through my head as I scraped the remaining eggs onto a plate for Lana.
Sister?
Niece?
Future girlfriend?
Current girlfriend?
That seemed most likely, although he’d never given any indication that he was dating someone. Then again, Jim and I were new neighbors. One could hardly call us friends.
“Mom, are you sure you’re all right?”
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Lizzy’s question broke through my thoughts again. This time, I was standing at the window in the front room and glaring out. I closed my eyes with a sigh. This was ridiculous.
“Fine,” I said. “I’ll be right back.”
“Where are you going?”
“Over to Jim’s,” I called over my shoulder as I stepped outside and shut the door behind me. Trilling birdsong followed me across the lawn and onto his driveway. I could do this. I would do this.
But once I saw his front door, my nerves of steel failed. My fingertips grew cold. My hands turned clammy. Why was I so nervous? It was just Jim. I simply needed to know if he wanted me to come over and … clean again.
Yes. That was it.
“Working relationship,” I said under my breath. “That’s all this is. Following up on a client lead.”
My hand lifted to knock, but I stopped. Could I go through with this? What if this was a girlfriend? What if Jim was just a nice—albeit somewhat strange—kind of man? I could be interrupting something important. My nose wrinkled as I recalled that warm hug he’d given her.
Or worse.
Just as my foot started to slide backward, the lock on the door jingled. I sucked in a sharp breath and froze. A little snick sounded as the door opened to a pair of bright blue eyes and raven-black hair. Seconds of stunned silence passed. A young woman, probably twenty-five, stared at me.
“Hello?” she asked.
She was lean in all the right places and curvy in all the others. Jogging pants, tennis shoes, and an old t-shirt completed her ensemble. She peered at me in curiosity from behind the door, swamped in shadows.
“Hi,” she said.
“Oh, uh … yeah, I should say hi. Right. Sorry. Hi.”
Was this the most embarrassing moment of my life? Definitely. By leaps and bounds. If this was Jim’s girlfriend, I had vastly underestimated who he was. But no. This wasn’t his girlfriend. Because I knew those blue eyes. Could see Jim in her bright gaze and the shape of her face. Suddenly I remembered the other name in the divorce papers.
Cora.
She tilted her head to the side. “Can I help you with something?”
Oh, nothing, I thought of saying. I’m just here to stalk your father. That’s all. Have you ever noticed that he’s entirely too reliant on Windex?