by Megan Rose
Mark stood perfectly still as she sobbed again, this time choking on it, letting out a series of hacking coughs. He was unfamiliar with this territory. This time she was upset with…him? He had a girlfriend once who got all upset with him because of his toothbrush for some reason…though she said it wasn’t about the toothbrush, it was about the significance of the toothbrush in his life. Which made no sense. His toothbrush was his toothbrush. The end.
Although, now that he thought about it, maybe she was speaking metaphorically. This time, though, he was pretty sure Lacey was speaking literally. He started to walk towards her.
"Don’t come over here! I’ll cry on you. Just go find somewhere else to eat lunch for this one day, please? I promise, I won’t come back to this spot again and you can have lunch here every day without me.”
“Lacey,” he said as she blew her nose obnoxiously on a tissue she had just fished out of her purse. “Lacey, I’m not going to sit somewhere else for lunch – “
“That’s fine, I’ll move. Might as well, anyway. No point staying here.”
“No, I mean I’m going to sit here for lunch with you. Right now. And any other time we both decide to take lunch breaks here. I like this spot, I like this store, I like this bench, and I like you.” Had he just said that out loud? Well, now he had embarrassed himself in front of her.
“You do? You don’t think I’m crazy?” She looked at him for the first time since he’d arrived, trying to blink away the tears that continued to stream down her face.
“I didn’t say that,” he said, trying to lighten the mood but also treading lightly. She smiled. Good, it worked. “People who aren’t crazy are boring. Crazy people are interesting. I’d rather be with someone interesting than someone boring.”
She gestured for him to come sit next to her on the bench. “But you’re not crazy,” Lacey said.
“Gee, thanks.”
“You know what I mean! You don’t sit out in the open and cry over stupid things, and trip over your own feet, and throw candy at a Ryan Gosling Man who you’ve never even met.”
“Ryan Gosling Man?”
“That was just a nickname that was supposed to stay inside of my head, but that’s not the point – “
“Do you have any other nicknames for me?” He suddenly wanted to change the subject to nicknames. Were they good? Or about things she didn’t like about him? Or were they just random because she was, as she had pointed out, crazy?
“Yes, but I’m not going to tell them to you. Listen, Ryan Gosl –I mean Mark. You’re a sane, stable, normal person who does normal things and has a normal life – “
“You think everything about me is normal?” Mark gaped at her.
“Well…yeah.”
"You think I don’t have embarrassing emotional breakdowns?”
“It appears so.”
He took a deep breath and prepared to divulge information he had never told anybody before. Still trying to figure out why he was doing all of these things to make this girl he barely knew feel better, he blurted out his deepest secrets.
“I cry at the beginning of Finding Nemo. And Up. And throughout most of Toy Story. And don’t even get me started on Toy Story 3 when they’re all about to die and they all hold hands.” His eyes actually teared up thinking about it. “We watched Monsters Inc. at my niece’s birthday party, and between them losing Boo and getting banished and then finally you hear Boo say “Kitty?” at the very end…I had never seen that movie before. I bawled like a baby. My entire family thought I was nuts. Especially my niece. She gave me a tissue and said, ‘It’s just a movie, Uncle Mark. Monsters isn’t even real.’”
Lacey stared at him for a moment. She wasn’t sure if that was exactly the same thing or not, but it seemed sufficiently embarrassing. The thought of Mark crying at an animated movie induced a small hiccup-like chuckle. Then she laughed a little. Then she laughed a lot. Suddenly, she wasn’t crying out of sadness anymore, she was crying because she was laughing so hard.
Mark gave her a half-smile. “It’s really not that funny.” She laughed even harder. “It’s not! I bet you cry at movies too!”
“I do not!”
“Oh, come on!”
“Okay,” she said, trying to calm down, “I did cry during Toy Story 3.”
“Exactly! They were just all so brave,” he said passionately and Lacey burst out into more laughter and more tears until her face tingled and her cheeks hurt from smiling. She let out a humiliating snort, but she was laughing too hard to be embarrassed.
“I’m sure I’ve had more crazy emotional moments if you’re interested,” he offered. This is why he was making a fool of himself – to see that smile.
“No, no,” she said. “I think that was enough.” She finally stopped laughing and wiped her face off with a tissue. “You’re a very nice man,” she said matter-of-factly.
“A very nice, crazy man.”
“Yes, a very nice, crazy man.” She smiled and looked down at the grass.
“Well, now that that’s all settled,” Mark sat back further on the bench, “let’s eat!”
Lacey’s face changed. The smile he’d just worked so hard for disappeared and she looked like the saddest person in the world again. “What’s the matter? Do you not have lunch? Did you already eat? Did someone steal your lunch money?” He prodded her for a laugh.
She continued to stare at the grass. “Are you not eating lunch? Is this a weight thing, because Lacey if you think you have to lose weight, you really are crazy. I thought you looked skinnier. Here – “ he shoved a package of chips at her, “eat this.”
Finally, she gave him a sad little smile and pushed his hand away. “No,” she said. “It’s not a weight thing. Thank you, though. I think you’re lying, though, because I usually wear some form of Spanx and I’m not today so, if anything, I look chubbier.” Mark resolved to find out what “spanks” were later.
“You know the girl who’s working at the salon who hates me?” Jackpot! Just what he had thought. Maybe he wasn’t so bad at dealing with emotional women. Not that he wanted to.
“Well, she really hates me. And she told me today. It was my own fault, I initiated the cat fight, but I didn’t realize people still worshipped her in this town. She told me to be careful and that she had ‘connections,’ so I had mocked her. Then, I get to Julio’s, pick out all my food, order my sandwich, and Julio says, 'Sorry, no can do, Lace.' I asked him why, and he told me that he had gotten word from 'the big boss' that he wasn’t allowed to serve me anymore. He wouldn’t tell me who “the big boss” was or why he even had to listen to this 'boss,' seeing as he owns the store.
“But he wouldn’t make me my sandwich. And I couldn’t buy anything else either, not even my Snapple. He said to come back tomorrow and maybe he’d be able to serve me, but for today I was out of luck.”
“What? You think this…hair girl forced him to refuse you service?”
Lacey giggled “Lana McStevens. Or, as I call her, Lana McDemon. And yes, that’s what I think.”
Ah, the Demon. “Well it’s simple really,” Mark said. “Go talk to any lawyer and they’ll tell you—“
“I’m not taking anyone to court,” she said and laughed. “It was a petty little jab for not praising her existence like everyone else. I’ll just have to be civil to her from now on if I want my lunch…and God knows what else. It’s okay, though, I actually had a really big breakfast,” Lacey said as she stood. “I should probably let you eat your lunch in peace.”
“What, and you haven’t eaten anything?”
“No,” Lacey said, “but I told you, I had a big breakfast. I don’t really need lunch.”
“You absolutely do need lunch.” Mark feigned outrage. “It is the third most important meal of the day, after all. Sit down,” he commanded more than requested. She sat.
He opened up his lunch bag – yup, like one of those little kid insulated lunch bags. Mark only had a lunch bag like that so he could fit an ice pack i
nside of it - he didn't have a refrigerator in the back office of his store yet.
“I would buy you your chicken salad sandwich and Snapple and five-million calories worth of chocolate, but I don’t have any money on me.” How did he know she ate a chicken salad sandwich? Had she mentioned it before?
He took out a sandwich and a napkin. “Here,” he placed the sandwich in her hands. “And here,” he said, putting the bag of chips back on her lap.
"What? This is your entire lunch! I can’t take this. Here, let’s go halfsies, I’ll – “
“Go what?”
“Go halfsies. Split it in half.”
“What, because we’re in first grade?”
“You’re one to talk, Mr. Walmart Insulated Lunchbox that every 7-year-old in America owns. Except they have superheroes on them.” He tilted the bag so she couldn’t see the little Thor emblem on the bottom of the bag.
“I guess it does look like I’m in first grade. But, no. You have that. I have this.” He picked up a silver thermos that Lacey hadn’t noticed before. Probably because when he sat down all she could see through her tears were blurry colors.
“What is that? Soup? It’s way too hot out here to be drinking soup.”
“No, it’s not soup. It’s a protein shake.”
“Ew, you actually drink those?” Lacey made a face of disgust.
"Actually, not really. But I test a lot of the food and drink products before I stock them in my store to make sure that they’re not crap. This is one of them. Want to try?” He held the thermos out to her.
“Um…not really.”
“Come on, you don’t have any chocolate today. This is your only chance,” he said, trying to persuade her.
"Have you tried it?” she asked.
“Not yet. Why don’t you be the guinea pig? If you don’t like it, I won’t even have to try it. I won’t sell it in my store.”
“You can’t base the quality of your health and fitness products on my opinion! I’m not the health and fitness kind of person. You know what my big breakfast this morning was?”
“What?”
“A croissant,” she said, unapologetically.
“Well then you better eat that entire turkey and cheese sandwich and drink half of the protein shake, because that’s not nearly enough for breakfast.”
“I’ll have a sip of your chocolate health drink thing,” she said, eyeing the thermos suspiciously. She held it up to her nose and sniffed it then looked inside at the frothy brown liquid.
"Oh, just drink it!” Mark nudged her.
“Okay, okay!” Lacey closed her eyes and had to resist the urge to hold her nose. She took a tiny sip. She couldn’t really tell based on the one sip. Bravely, she took a big gulp.
“You know what? This is actually terrible. You’re going to have to let me have the whole thing,” she said, chugging the shake.
“Hey! I need to try it too!”
“No you don’t. I said I didn’t like it.” Lacey giggled.
“Give that to me.” He swiped the thermos from her hands and tasted it. “Wow,” he said. “That actually isn’t too bad.”
“Hey Mark?” Lacey looked at him pleadingly. “Wanna trade lunches? Like we’re in first grade?”
Mark smiled and handed her the thermos as he took his sandwich and bag of chips off of her lap. She smiled and poured her liquid lunch into her mouth.
✽✽✽
Lacey was prepared for Lana the next morning. She had dressed extra cute, but she planned on saying “Oh, I was in such a hurry this morning – I barely even had a chance to look in the mirror! Thank you, though, your outfit is cute too.” She was going to be nice and not upset anybody or anything. She would do what Lana told her, pass out the comment cards, and just try to have a normal day at work.
Her hope for a normal day was squashed when she walked into the salon and saw Mark standing there. She surveyed the room. This was the right place, wasn’t it? The salon? Men didn’t really come to the salon. Men went to that barber guy down the street who didn’t even have hair.
“What are you doing here?” Lacey whispered behind Mark, who swiveled around and smiled at her.
“I came to get my hair cut,” he said.
“What? Why are you…?” she glanced up and saw Lana glaring at her. “Okay, well I guess just go ahead and tell Lana what you need and she’ll help you,” Lacey said.
Despite the situation, Bird Girl flounced over to her station, a smile on her lips, ready to start the day on a positive note. She heard a bit of a fuss at the front counter and looked up to see some sort of kerfuffle.
Mark was clearly telling Lana whatever it was that he wanted, and she was not obliging. Lacey moved over to the shampoo shelf and pretended to be picking something out so she could hear.
“I’m sorry, but she’s booked. Actually, we’re rather busy today. I did attend beauty school, myself. I could give you a haircut,” Lana was saying.
“I’m sorry, but I can see your schedule from here and she is not booked and you do not have a very busy day. Now are you going to let me get my hair cut or am I going to have to fill out one of those comment cards about you?”
Lana looked stunned. No one spoke to her like that. Except maybe Lacey, and she hadn’t done a very good job. Lana was used to men fawning all over her, and surely she had expected that from this man too. And this was probably a man she actually wanted fawning all over her (more than the others at least), seeing as he looked like Ryan Gosling.
Lana smiled a creepy Barbie smile and whipped around to see Lacey standing nearby. “Lacey!” she said. “I know you’re very busy with work today, stocking all those shampoo bottles and such – “
“I wasn’t stocking – “
“Well, maybe you will be,” she said with an edge to her voice. “This gentleman here would like a trim and he has requested you to be his hairstylist.”
“Well, how nice of him.” Lacey smiled.
"I’ve heard some very great things about her,” he said. Lana’s face looked so tight that Lacey thought it might crack. Then maybe the alien inside of her would ooze out and everyone would see the real her.
“Okay, well. Come on back here to my station.” Lacey suddenly felt nervous. Like this was her first client ever. (That had not gone well – she hoped this wouldn’t be a repeat episode). There was no reason to be nervous, though. It was just a simple trim, and it was for someone she knew and liked. Should be easy.
✽✽✽
Mark let Lacey put his smock on and he looked around at the pastel pink walls and posters of girls’ hair styles. “I’m guessing you don’t get a lot of men in here,” he said as he sat down.
“Try none,” Lacey said. “Unless Giovanni from the next town over stops by to touch up his highlights when his normal place is closed, but he's gay.” She began sorting her things. “Oh my God, everyone is going to think you’re gay!” she said, suppressing a giggle. “Wait, you’re not gay, are you?” she asked, sounding worried. Why would she be worried?
“No, I’m not gay. Do I look like I’m gay?”
“That’s a question that could get you into trouble. What does someone who’s gay look like?”
"Okay, that’s not what I meant. I just mean, people will be correct in assuming that I’m here because I’m so comfortable in my masculinity that it doesn’t bother me to have my hair cut in a pink room in front of a magazine open to an article entitled The Truth About Douching.”
✽✽✽
“Oh, geez!” Lacey snapped the issue of Cosmo on her station closed and felt a pang of embarrassment. Ah well, there wasn’t much more that she should be embarrassed about in front of him. She’d known him for less than a week, and yet he had been there for the most embarrassing moments of her life. (Except for that one time in the tenth grade.)
While Lacey got to work on his hair, Lana dawdled over to Lacey’s station and half-talked to the stylist next to her, shooting Mark meaningful glances all the while. “Lacey, wa
it,” Mark said. She stopped and took a step back. He swiveled his chair around until he was facing Lana and looked at her. She gave him her best I’m-so-much-better-than-you-that-you-want-me look (the one that usually made everyone fall to their knees and beg for her attention) and he just stared at her for a moment.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he said to Lana.
“Do you, now?” She sat in the empty chair next to him and her smile grew.
“Yes.” He took a breath. “But I’m not Ryan Gosling, as you may well believe me to be, and I do not appreciate being stared at like I’m some sort of zoo animal. Now, if you’d like a fake picture and a fake autograph, I’d be happy to provide that for you after my haircut. But, for now, if you wouldn’t mind just heading back to your little corner over there, it would make me much more comfortable.” He smiled smugly.
Lana opened her mouth to say something and a squeak popped out. “Go on,” Mark said. She got up in a huffy manner, folded her arms over her chest and stomped back up to the front desk like a 5-year-old who hadn’t gotten her way. Except she was in heels on a floor covered in hair so she slipped on a dark chunk and floundered around for a minute before reaching the desk.
Lacey had to keep her mouth shut for the rest of the haircut for fear of bursting out into laughter. Mark talked about what a great hairdresser Lacey was and how maybe he would send his sister here one day, and of course he would recommend Lacey. He also said it was very nice to see her “in her element.”
She finished brushing hair off of his shoulders and Mark got to his feet. “Did you bring a lunch today?” he asked quietly, trying to keep Lana out of the conversation, and probably to annoy her a little bit too. She nodded. “Okay, come over to my store for lunch. I saw a beehive near the bench in the park, and I’m allergic to bees. Plus who wants to sit around Julio’s all day and deal with the stuck-up people who go there?”