Second Chances (92 page)

“So, you’ll come then?”  He asked the words anxiously, convinced that she would turn him down.

Cocking her head to the side, she studied him.  What did she see there behind his vivid blue eyes, his gentle smile, and his worried brow?  She shook her head, clearing away her thoughts.  Instinctively, she knew that this choice, the response she made to that one question would somehow irrevocably alter her life.  Of course, she had just caught her husband cheating on her, maybe a little change was good.  “What time will you pick me up?”  She asked with a shy smile.

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 mirror.

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.