by Hendin, KK
Chapter · Eight
I woke up the next morning, shaky but willing to try. If not for me, but for Devi. For Ravi. For the person who I once was.
“Maddie!” Sam called, bouncing into the café. “You weren’t here yesterday—you feeling okay?”
I smiled. “Yeah, I was a little under the weather,” I said, pouring her cup of coffee and taking out a muffin for her. “You miss me?” I teased.
“You know I did.” She leaned over and flicked the ends of my ponytail. “Please, please, please can I at least give you a small little trim?” She fluttered her eyelashes. “Pretty pretty please?”
“Fine,” I said, watching her squeal in delight. “Two conditions, though.”
She watched me, tapping her fingers on the counter. “I’m waiting on bated breath here, darlin’,” she drawled.
“Not too much of a trim, and I want a highlight.”
“One highlight?” she asked, confused.
“One,” I said. “I’ll show you when I come over.” Suddenly, I had another thought. “What’s Noie doing today?”
“She’s hanging out with my mom,” Sam said. “Why?”
“Would your mom mind if we borrowed her for a little bit?” I asked, biting my lip nervously.
“You going to use my niece as a security blanket?” she teased.
Yes.
“No,” I said. “I just thought she’d like having a little makeover also. My treat.”
Sam’s eyes softened. “I think she’ll love it,” she said, beaming. Reaching over the counter, she wrapped me in an impulsive hug. “I’m so happy you’re here,” she said. “And I can’t wait until this afternoon.”
“Good for you, darling,” Grandma said as Sam practically bounced out the door of the café.
“It’s terrifying.”
“Of course it is, honey,” she answered, handing me a piece of cake. “Now, try this cake and tell me what it’s missing. I can’t figure it out at all.”
Noie was watching from the window of the salon when I got there. “Maddie!” she yelled as I walked in. “Auntie Sam says we have girls’ day!”
“That we are,” I said.
Sam waved from the back of the salon, and beckoned us to join her. “I don’t know how she’s going to react to someone else working on her,” she whispered. “That’s why I haven’t done this with her yet.” Her face looked troubled.
I turned to Noie, who was watching the two of us curiously. Bending down, I looked at her serious green eyes. “Noie, since there are so many things that we’re going to do for our girl’s day, Auntie Sam might need one of the other ladies here to help.”
Her eyes widened with fear and she shook her head. “Don’t want anyone but Auntie Sam,” she said, her lower lip trembling.
Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.
“How about if you sat on my lap?” I asked her. “Then I could hold you when one of the ladies puts pink nail polish on your fingers and toes?”
I could see the internal battle playing across her little face. The terror of strangers or having pink nail polish.
“We could try just one toe as an experiment,” I said.
“A ’speriment?” she asked, looking worriedly from me to Sam. I nodded.
“If you don’t like it, we could stop, okay?”
She took a deep breath. “’Kay.”
Reaching over, I hugged her to me, feeling her little hands pat my hair. “We’re going to be brave together, okay?” I whispered.
“Okay,” she whispered back.
Straightening up, I walked over to the shampooing sink where Sam was waiting.
“You’re magic,” she whispered, looking down at Noie in awe.
I shrugged. “Not yet I’m not,” I whispered back.
“Noie, do you want to come help me wash Maddie’s hair?” she asked, pulling a little step stool out from behind the sink.
“Is her hair dirty?” Noie asked, clambering up on the step stool and looking at my hair fanned out in the sink. “It looks clean.”
Sam laughed. “No, it’s not dirty, but we’re going to make it extra clean,” she said, turning on the faucet. Helping Noie hold the hose and wet my hair, she looked at me. “You’re going to have to explain this one highlight thing to me so I can prep the color,” she said.
We’re going to be brave together, Noie and I. And I was going to wash out any slime from my family. “I want one big pink highlight,” I said.
Sam’s eyes widened in surprise. “Really?”
“Really,” I said. “It’s been something I’ve wanted to do for years, but never did.”
“Well, then today is your lucky day,” she said. “Because you will be greeting me tomorrow with my coffee and a fabulous new pink highlight.”
“Pink?” Noie asked.
Sam nodded. “We’re going to make some of Maddie’s hair pink.” Noie started giggling uncontrollably. Apparently, pink hair was hilarious.
Well, it kind of was.
That was part of the point.
“I want a pink hair!” she said.
“You’re going to have to ask your Daddy about that one,” I said, imagining Gabe’s expression if his little girl came home with a bright pink streak of hair.
“Maybe next time,” she said as she settled on to my lap while Sam brushed out my hair.
“Really not so much off the ends,” I said.
“Don’t worry, I won’t give you a bob,” Sam said brushing through my hair.
I swallowed hard at the thought. “Don’t even think about it.”
“Calm down, just a trim before the pinkifying,” she said, and began humming along to the music playing along in the background.
“When are we making my nails pink?” Noie asked as she watched Sam brush my hair in the mirror.
“After we put the pink in Maddie’s hair,” she said.
“Now is my turn?” Noie asked as Sam finished pinning up my hair.
“Now is your turn,” she said. Standing up, we walked toward the manicure tables. Noie’s eyes widened as I sat down at the table in front of Jessica, an older Hispanic lady.
“You’re going to sit on my lap the whole time, honey,” I said to her quietly, feeling her tremble. “I’m going to hold you the whole time, okay? If you get scared, I want you to tell me.”
“I’m scared now, Maddie.”
Truth time.
“I was scared when Sam cut my hair, too,” I whispered back. “But that’s why you sat with me, right? So we can be brave together.”
She squeezed my hand. “And Devi is here to be brave with us, too.”
A chill raced down my spine and a breath of soft wind over my back. She was there. The question was, how did Noie know that?
“Hi, Noie,” Jessica said.
Noie stiffened in her chair. “Hi,” she whispered back, leaning her back into my chest.
“Sam told me that you like the color pink.” Jessica said quietly. “Do you want me to put some pink nail polish on your fingernails?”
Noie nodded slowly, and stretched out one little hand. A rush of pride came over me as she sat there, her little hand trembling. But she was being brave with me.
I could see Sam’s eyes sparkling with unshed tears, and I knew that my eyes were also full. Jessica carefully painted Noie’s little nails, one at a time, keeping a steady stream of soft conversation going, telling Noie about how pretty her nails were going to look when she was done, and all about being a manicurist.
Noie was quiet while Jessica talked, and would occasionally look up at me and whisper a question to ask Jessica, still not wanting to talk to her. My heart was exploding with pride when Noie wiggled off my lap to follow Jessica to the dryer.
“Sit with me, Maddie,” she said, enraptured by her newly polished nails.
“Five more minutes,” Sam said.
Sliding into the chair next to Noie, I sat there, letting her chatter on about her pink nails. “Devi also wants pink nails,” she said to m
e.
We were going to have to talk about this sooner or later. I had to figure this one out before I went crazy asking myself impossible questions.
“Who’s Devi?”
“She’s my friend,” Noie said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the whole world. “But not everyone can see her.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know,” she said, shrugging. “But she’s my friend.”
“Does she also know the bedtime song?” I asked her gently.
“She sang me the bedtime song,” she told me. “And I taught it to Daddy.”
I sucked in a breath as all the blood left my face.
“Time to wash out your hair,” Sam called. Shaking myself out of my shock, I stood up and followed her to the shampooing stations. “You okay there, Maddie?” she asked as I sat down slowly.
“Fine,” I lied.
“Look, Auntie Sam!” Noie was thrilled at her nails. “Pink nails, Auntie Sam! Pink nails!”
“And soon Maddie is going to have pink hair,” Sam said, unwrapping my hair. “Then you’re going to match.”
The blow drier turned off. “And now for the big reveal,” Sam drawled, looking at me. “And you look fabulous, if I say so myself.”
“Pink hairs are on your head, Maddie!” Noie giggled, still confused about the whole dyeing process.
“Should I look at them?” I asked her, suddenly hit by a fit of nerves. What if this wasn’t a good idea? What if I looked stupid?
“So pretty!” she said, bouncing. “Pink hairs are pretty!”
“Pink, Mama! Pink!” Devi bounced in her stroller, pointing at the display window.
“It’s pink,” I agreed, stopping so she could look.
“So pretty!” She reached out to try to touch the window. She looked up at me. “Want pink, like the lady.”
The mannequin in the display window had gloriously pink hair—long and flowing. If Rapunzel would have rebelled and dyed her hair pink, she would have looked just like that. “You want pink in your hair?” I asked Devi, crouching down next to her so we could see the display windows with the same view.
“Pink hair!” she giggled, clapping her hands happily. “Want pink hair!”
I had also wanted pink hair, but my mother had never let me. It would have embarrassed her.
Everything about me had embarrassed her. Nothing I had ever done was good enough for her. I shook my head, trying to shake off the memories. I wasn’t going to be like her. “How about we put some pink in your hair on your birthday?”
Her big purple eyes widened. “When I turn free?”
“When you turn three, baby.”
“Mama also get pink hair,” she said as we continued down the block.
“We’ll be matching,” I said, smiling at the thought of finally adding a pink streak to my hair.
There never was a third birthday party.
I shuddered at the memory.
The chair turned, and there it was.
My mother’s nightmare and my dream since I was fourteen. My dark, wavy hair, with a chunk of shocking pink. It was everything I had always wanted it to be, and everything Devi would have wanted, too. “I love it,” I whispered, feeling myself choke up. “It’s perfect, Sam.”
“It’s pink hair!” Noie sang, bouncing up and down on my lap. “Pink hair!”
Sam’s eyes met mine in the mirror. “My pleasure,” she said. “And not to rub it in your face or anything, Maddie?”
“Yeah?”
“I told you so!” she crowed, giggling.
I started to laugh, feeling like she had cut pounds of hair off instead of less than an inch. “You did,” I said.
“You’re all she talks about now, you know,” I whirled around to find Gabe leaning against the café counter. “You and the pink hair and the pink nails.”
He was smiling.
“I heard you’re some sort of miracle worker.”
I snorted. “Someone hallucinated,” I said, reaching to fill up a cup of coffee for him.
“I think not,” he drawled, looking edible in his suit. Stop it, Maddie, I told myself firmly. Just because you’ve got pink hair now, doesn’t mean you can drool over any men.
Especially not tall, gorgeous, Southern men with beautiful green eyes and adorable little girls. No, no, no, no, no.
“Are you around later tonight?” he asked.
“Around?” I repeated, confused.
“Let me rephrase that,” he smiled charmingly, his dimple making me want to fan myself. Where all these extraneous hormones were showing up from I didn’t know. “I wanted to know if you wanted to go out to dinner with me tonight,” he said.
Oh, no. I couldn’t. There was no way I was going to go out with him. So what that every time he touched me there were electric shocks? So what that just the thought of seeing him with a few buttons open on his shirt made me feel the urge to stick my head in the freezer to calm down?
I was an emotional train wreck, to put it mildly. I was being brave, and trying my best to let myself grieve and move on. But going out to dinner with Gabriel Mendez? I couldn’t.
“I’m really sorry,” I stammered. “But I can’t.”
“You have a boyfriend?” he asked casually.
I shook my head no. “I just am not really in a place to have any sort of romantic relationship,” I admitted. “But if I was…” my voice trailed off.
Gabe leaned over the counter, watching my face intently. “I get it. Honestly, I don’t know if I’m really in a place for any romantic relationship either.”
I looked at him, confused. Then why ask?
“Can we try platonic?” he asked.
Platonic?
I looked up at him, a six-foot tall cliché of tall, dark and handsome. If I let myself think about it, I would leap over the counter and rip his shirt off. I didn’t think I was able to do platonic.
“We can try,” I said, still a little doubtful. “I don’t know how that’s going to work, and I don’t know how long I’m going to even be here.” I looked up at his brilliant green eyes. “But we can try.”
“Then we should arrange this whole dinner thing tonight, probably,” he said, smiling at me. God, those dimples.
No, I told myself. Those are friendly dimples. That’s it. Those are not dimples you can lick.
Where was I getting these kind of ideas, anyway?
Damn hormones.
“Uh, okay,” I answered, still wary about the whole platonic friend thing.
“Well, I’m going to be back from work around five-thirty tonight,” he mused out loud. “Noie is in bed by seven… we can do something in the apartment tonight. She sleeps through anything.”
I looked at him doubtfully.
“Me and you? In an apartment alone?” I asked.
“If you wanted to go out, Noie can sleep at my parent’s house tonight. She loves sleepovers.”
I thought of little Noie, and the terror on her face when pretty much anyone came too close. She was okay at Gabe’s parents, but… I don’t know. What if something happened, and he wasn’t there? I would never forgive myself for that. I wasn’t going to risk that possibility just because I was a little nervous to be alone with Gabe.
“If you just want to do a me and you thing, platonically,” I emphasized, “Your place would be fine. I’m just not okay with the off chance of waking up Noie.”
“You sure?” he asked.
I nodded. I remembered what it was like, having a cranky two-year-old. Not something anyone should have to deal with. Including the two-year-old.
“In that case, do you want to stop by before she goes to sleep?” he asked.
“Sure.”
His smile nearly blinded me. “Awesome,” he said, sounding a lot younger than I had ever heard him sound. “I’ll see you later.”
What was I getting myself into here?
Chapter · Nine
I looked down at my outfit from that day. The usual. A silk T-shirt, leftove
r from the days my mother didn’t trust me to do my own shopping. A warm grandpa-type cardigan and a pair of shorts I had bought from a thrift store in Harlem. Paint-splattered Converse that I would never be able to throw out.
It wasn’t a date, I told myself as I debated over changing my outfit. It was two friends hanging out. Platonically. With no need to impress the other one.
At all.
Reapplying my eyeliner, which didn’t count as makeup, I looked through the small box of jewelry I had brought with me, in search for something to fancy up my outfit. The jewelry was only because it was evening. It had nothing whatsoever to do with any friends.
Reaching in, I pulled out a handful of colorful bangles, and an intricately carved ring. Putting on the jewelry, I looked down at my hands. They looked more like the hands I used to have.
Picking up my oversized wristlet, another memento from the days before I was disowned, I took one last look at myself in the mirror. Calm down, I scolded myself. Turning, I left the apartment, headed toward a platonic night with a friend.
A friend, I repeated to myself as I knocked on his door, unsure if it could be heard over the sounds of music.
The door opened, and there stood Gabe, looking fairly edible in his T-shirt and a pair of shorts. Not changing had been an excellent idea. “Hey,” he greeted me. “Come on in. We were just getting ready for dinner.”
The table was covered in papers, with Gabe’s briefcase leaning against a table leg. “Maddie!” Noie called as she ran toward me. “You came!”
Picking her up, I swung her around, watching her giggle happily. “I did come,” I said, dropping a kiss on her cheek. “Let me see your nails, baby girl.”
Reaching her hand out, she showed them to me, grinning. “Still pink,” she said. “Look, Daddy!”
“They still are pink,” he agreed, tugging at a curl that escaped her ponytail.
“It’s a constant checking to make sure they’re all still pink,” he explained as we headed toward the kitchen. “God knows what I’m going to do when one of them chips.”
“Go back to the salon and ask Jessica to fix it,” I said as I watched him pull vegetables out of the crisper.
“What can I help you with?” I asked, looking around the kitchen.