Brian grabbed her hands and began babbling excitedly. It was going to work out. Everything would be as it should. And Saturday was when it would all begin.
Sarah left Josh a note on Thursday telling of her weekend plans. If he remembered that Saturday was their anniversary, then he had hidden it well. He was waiting for her at the breakfast table on Friday to talk to her.
“You’re up early,” she commented as she made herself a cup of tea.
“Yes,” he said sourly, “and you seem to be running late.”
“So my routine has changed a bit recently,” Sarah responded with a shrug, now growing irritated, and busied herself with foraging for something to accompany the tea.
He was quiet as he contemplated how to approach the subject. “So, you’re taking off with Brian for the weekend. I always knew there was something going on there.” Josh watched her for a response.
She sighed, rolled her eyes to the heavens, and sat across from him at the table. “We are still just friends. Not everyone sleeps with their co-workers, Josh.” She glared at him for a moment.
He ignored her comment. “So, I suppose I have to watch Chloe so that you can go out for the night,” he sneered.
Sarah stared at him a moment, trying to decide if she should comment on his insolent tone, decided better of it and simply responded. “Actually, no. Had you flipped the note over like the arrow suggests,” she pointed to the note still sitting on the table and turned it over, “then you would have seen that Chloe will be staying with my mother.” She folded her hands on the table and stared at him levelly; waiting for the objections that she knew instinctively would come.
“Why not my parents?” Josh asked angrily. He was determined to find some fault with this plan, regardless of how petty.
Sarah smiled warily. She should have anticipated this one. “They barely raised you. Any more questions?” He didn’t respond fast enough. “Good,” she said, standing up and marching out of the room. She hadn’t been very excited about this trip before, but now that it had Josh upset, the thrill was building.
The next morning after breakfast, she packed up Chloe, grabbed their bags, and walked to the car. The air seemed fresher, cleaner somehow. Her step was lighter, her smile wider, and her mind clearer. Josh hadn’t come home last night, probably in protest or to make a point. That Chloe didn’t get to say goodbye was only a slight damper on an otherwise promising day.
Her mother was standing at the door smiling as she walked in. “I know already,” her mother began gently. “You don’t have to say a word.”
Sarah stopped, puzzled. “I don’t know what you think you know, but I can’t imagine you’re right.” She crossed her arms over her chest and arched an eyebrow while she waited for her mother to reveal what she believed to know.
“Remember when you were growing up?” Her mother asked, still smiling.
“You mean how you had an uncanny way of knowing everything even before I spoke?” Sarah countered.
“Well, that doesn’t dry up, young lady,” her mother responded. She turned to Chloe who had been watching the conversation with unveiled interest. “Go pick a craft from the closet, Chloe,” her mother commanded in a firm voice. Turning her attention back to Sarah, she asked, “Now where were we?”
“Oh, you were about to tell me what you think you know.” Sarah said with disgust.
Her mother gave her the warning look that said ‘lose the attitude.’ Sarah wiped the cross look from her face and stood a little straighter. “Well, I believe you and Josh are through, though I won’t pretend to know why. I can’t say as I’m particularly bothered by this revelation. I sensed something was wrong the last time we talked. I can’t tell much over the phone. I think a new man is showing interest in you. He might be...”
Before she would let her mother complete the thought, Sarah broke in. “Brian is just a good friend. We work together. He is...”
This time her mother interrupted, “...helping you through a tough time. This man is different. We spoke on the phone. I know you stayed there the last time Chloe spent the night.” She watched her daughter’s reaction to what she was saying. Sarah was cloudy. “I think I should meet him, and sooner rather than later.” Her words were a command, not a polite request. Sarah recognized them. She had heard that tone numerous times in her life.
“Soon,” Sarah promised, hugging her mother. “I’m going to be late for my appointment.” She walked into the kitchen where Chloe had a candle making set all laid out on the counter. “Kisses,” she said brightly, wrapping her daughter in her arms. Then she walked out of the house, and changed her life forever.
When she checked into the salon, a tall man with a bad dye job greeted her. “I’m Bob,” he said enthusiastically. “Brian requested that I take care of you personally.” He led her to the back of the salon and urged her into a shampoo chair. Sarah couldn’t help but wonder why Brian would request that this man with bad hair suddenly be in charge of her new look.
Wasn’t there some kind of saying about never trusting a hairdresser with bad hair? She thought on this while Bob prattled on. He was wetting her hair down with warm water that was admittedly the ideal temperature. He didn’t ask her questions, but simply spoke aloud as he worked his magic. “Yes, I think we’ll use a nourishing shampoo, and follow it with a conditioning treatment. That will be better.” He shampooed her hair, lathering firmly, massaging her scalp until she just seemed to fuse with the chair.
He sat her up. She was more relaxed than she had been for some time. He walked her to his chair and began to comb out her long black locks. “Hm,” he said, “you have lovely hair. I don’t want to cut it off. If anything, I think we should grow it out longer. You need layers. Yes, long layers. Oh, and maybe warm it up some with some color. At least two different shades, I think. Yes, yes! Oh, we are going to make those incredible green eyes of yours pop.” He continued to play with her hair, and study the shape of her face.
Because he wasn’t really talking to her, Sarah felt almost like those plastic heads that stylists first practiced on. She almost missed the opportunity for input, since she was so lost in her own thoughts. “And we’ll end by shaping your brows. So what do you think?” He stood looking at her, scissors in one hand, and comb in the other.
Sarah jumped. “Oh, sounds great. I trust you implicitly.” She winced after saying that.
Did she trust him, or in an effort to cover over her inattention did she make an overzealous statement? She thought for a moment, tilting her head, and causing Bob to chastise her.
“No, Sarah. You need to hold your head still so I don’t massacre your hair!” He frowned seriously as he positioned her head the way he need it once more.
Bob had redeemed himself, she decided. And now that she was developing a trust in him, she was ready to talk to him. “So, how do you know Brian, Bob?” She began.
“Oh, Dr. Waite had one of my kids about three semesters ago.” He saw her arch an eyebrow in question. “Oh yes,” Bob assured her. “I’m gay. Pity I didn’t realize it before I was married and had four kids.” He cut away at her hair. “We’ve been divorced for years.”
Was this why Brian wanted her to meet Bob? Was he to serve as the example of an amicable separation, or life after divorce? There had to be more to it than that. “So, you met him through one of your kids?” She continued to probe.
“Yup. He came in for a haircut, we found out we had Alayna, my daughter, in common.” He spoke for several more minutes, but nothing struck Sarah as the reason for her visit. But now, Bob decided it was his turn to ask the questions. “So, Dr. Waite sent you here. What is going on with you?”
Sarah was startled and unsure of how to answer that question. She felt compelled to share with this man who was virtually a stranger, but didn’t know why. “Well, I’m getting a divorce, I guess.” She opened her mouth to say more, but Bob interrupted.
“What do you mean, you guess?” He had stopped working and was staring at her in the m
irror.
She took a few breaths and continued. “I caught my husband having an affair. I don’t know why. I don’t think I’m cold. I mean I like sex.” She turned several shades of red. Blustering, she pressed on. “I guess I’ve been trying not to figure out why, although most people want to know that stuff, right? I mean, people want to know why couples divorce. Was it something serious or superficial? Who is to blame? I can’t believe I’m the one to blame. And I can’t believe he cheated on me.” She stopped for a moment and looked at Bob, studied his reaction in the mirror. He didn’t have the hungry look of someone eager for the good gossip. He didn’t look as though he pitied her either, and for that she was grateful. The last thing she wanted was pity.
“Why am I telling you all this?” She asked in shock.
Bob put both hands lightly on her shoulders and smiled at her in the mirror. “You tell me because I’m a stylist, which is something like a therapist, only the rates are better and you look fabulous when we’re done.”
Sarah smiled slightly. “Thank you. I’m sorry for unleashing on you. I just feel...out of control, like I’ve lost my compass, my direction.” She raised her hands in a gesture meant to complete her thoughts.
He turned and walked toward the front, leaving Sarah dazed and confused. When he returned a moment later, he handed her a business card. He flipped it to the back where he had written a name and phone number. “Call her,” he commanded. “She will change your life. I think this is what you need right now, besides me of course.” He smiled, sighed, and went back to work at a furious pace.
Sarah looked at the card for a minute. The woman’s name was Brenda. There was just a name and a number, no address, no job description. She wanted to ask, but thought better of it. She would call. And somehow this would translate into her finding a new direction in her life.
Moments after she left the salon, she walked through the mall to Nancy’s Coffee and found that she didn’t recognize the woman wearing her clothes reflected in the store windows. At each window, from each new angle, she would find herself taken aback, and then smile when she realized it truly was she. Sarah took her coffee and did something that she rarely found time for; she sat down by the waterfront and sipped it ever so slowly, mesmerized by the waves. She had some time before Brian would pick her up. Bob had done all the difficult work; she just had to get dressed.
Just as she was about to get up and walk back to her car, a slip of paper started to fall from her pocket. It was the business card. Feeling this must be some sort of sign; she removed her cell phone from her purse and called. The phone rang three times, and just as she was about to hang up a woman’s voice answered.
“Hi,” Sarah began nervously, realizing she had no idea what to say. “I, um, had an appointment with Bob today and he gave me your number. He told me I should call you.” She was quiet a moment. Brenda still had not spoken. “So, I don’t know why, or what you do, but I’m calling you.” She waited.
“I see,” Brenda said quietly. “I suppose some would call me a fortune teller. I think the term ‘witch’ would be more accurate. I give tarot card readings that are, more often than not, painfully accurate.”
Sarah rolled her eyes and sighed. “Oh,” she said.
“I take it you aren’t a believer?” Brenda asked. She didn’t seem offended, or annoyed, but more matter-of-fact.
“I don’t think so,” Sarah said. “I mean, I’ve never had a reading done. I don’t know much about it really.”
“Well,” said Brenda, “I deal with many different kinds of people in my line of work. I see the skeptic determined to prove me a fraud, I see the blind believers who are certain everything I say will come true, I even have people who keep coming to me in the hopes I can give them winning lottery numbers.”
“Umhm,” Sarah murmured mechanically, wondering where this was going.
“Here’s a suggestion,” Brenda offered. “Why don’t you make an appointment, bring a friend? You can even treat it as a folly. I don’t mind. I know who I am and what I can do for you.”
“What can you do for me?” Sarah was surprised to find herself asking such a direct question.
Brenda laughed. “Well, for one, I can help those who are lost find their way.”
Sarah was silent a moment. “Is that what you think you can do for me?”
“I think that is why Bob sent you to me. I can feel it in your voice. When can you come?”
Still shocked, she bit her lip for a moment before speaking. “Let me talk to my friend and I’ll call you back.”
“Okay. I’ll expect to hear from you soon,” Brenda said serenely.
A peace came over Sarah. She knew just the person to call. She and Jamie had some catching up to do anyway. And even if this woman turned out to be a fraud, what did she really have to lose?
When she opened the door that afternoon, Sarah took Brian’s breath away. “Wow, lady in red,” he said admiringly. The dress had an angled hem that dropped slightly below mid-calf and peaked above her left knee. The crimson dress was sleeveless and dipped daringly in both the front and back, revealing just a hint of cleavage. In short the dress was simple, yet elegant. Around her neck and on her ears she wore matching heart shaped ruby and diamond jewelry.
Brian just studied her, unable to speak. She radiated this happiness and sweet sexuality that left him stunned. Bob had made her even more beautiful than he could have ever imagined. The long layers fell around her face, framing it perfectly. Her enchanting emerald green eyes sparkled. It was all he could do to offer her his arm and lead her to his car. He was silent the entire ride to the airport, and spent most of his time gazing either out the window or at her.
Sarah caught him once or twice. She smiled to herself every instance that their eyes met and he quickly looked away. And yet at the same time it was just a bit unnerving to have him feeling so awkward around her. One aspect of their relationship that she had always cherished was that Brian had this uncanny ability to make her feel comfortable. Maybe he just wasn’t used to seeing her all dressed up.
Not soon enough, they were at the airport, their overnight bags unloaded, checking in at the gate. People were staring at them. She knew it was because while everyone else was in their comfortable travel clothes, she and Brian were over-dressed for a flight. Sarah knew that they didn’t have a choice. They would arrive in New York City with just enough time to check into their hotel, and go out to dinner before the show started that evening.
“Where are we going to eat?” Sarah asked curiously as they walked through the gate onto the plane.
Brian held both their tickets and was walking down the aisle. “I thought we could talk about it en route,” he said. “I have reservations at one place that I thought you would like, but if you don’t want to go there, then we can select some place else.” He walked through the curtains separating first class from the rest of the plane.
“Brian,” she hissed through her teeth. He was still walking ahead of her, searching for their seats. She took a giant step forward and tugged on his sleeve. He turned his head to see what she wanted. “We’re in first class,” she whispered. “You must have gone too far.” She grabbed his arm and tried to pull him back the other way before an overprotective stewardess arrived to make a scene.
He shook his head. “Nope, we’re just right.” He pointed at the number on the ticket and the number above the seat. “Window or aisle?” He asked gallantly with a smile.
She slid in, hooked her seat belt, and looked at him. When at last he had settled in and gave her his attention she asked quietly. “Fly first class often?”
He laughed and shook his head. “Only the best for you, Sarah.”
The flight was uneventful. They chatted some, but Sarah couldn’t seem to get comfortable. She wanted to look and see if she recognized anyone around her, but figured that it would be rude to stare and gape about the cabin. She decided it would be better to simply settle back into her seat, relax, and preserve her streng
th, since she was bound to be exhausted later.
At some point she must have dozed off because Brian was calling her name and nudging her gently to try and wake her up. When she stirred, she realized that she had fallen asleep on his shoulder, with his arm around her. And while it was not an altogether unpleasant feeling, it did make her feel uncomfortable to wake up in his arms. Embarrassed, she could barely make eye contact.
Brian gently took her chin in his hand and forced her to look him in the face. “It’s okay, Sarah,” he said softly. “I didn’t mind.” He helped her from her seat, and took her hand as they exited the plane. I didn’t mind, he thought. I would gladly let her rest there every minute of every day for the rest of her life.
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