*
That next day at the salon, Violet still hadn’t turned up as noon approached, which irritated the stylists because they had to take turns answering the phone and making appointments, which took forever, keeping their clients with wet hair dripping in sinks or in foils that needed to be checked.
“You said Violet would be in today,” Janey said, as she checked out her client at the reception desk.
Sydney walked into the sunlit reception area where Bea McConnell was waiting on the white couch next to the windows. “You can go on back, Bea. I’ll be with you in a minute,” Sydney said to her. Then she turned to Janey. “I went to see her yesterday, to make sure everything was all right. She said she’d be here.”
“She’s trouble,” Janey said, sitting back in the swivel chair at the reception desk. “My little sister was in school with her, before Violet dropped out. She was rough. She would steal. And not just other girls’ boyfriends, although she did plenty of that.”
“Those Turnbulls breed like bunnies and steal like magpies,” Bea McConnell said. Sydney turned to see that Bea was still in the reception area, not wanting to miss out on this piece of gossip.
“She’s only eighteen,” Sydney said, guiding Bea to the back. “No one is set in stone at eighteen.”
An hour later, Sydney was trimming Bea’s newly touched up and highlighted hair when Violet walked in. It made Sydney feel triumphant, because it meant she’d been right about her.
“Violet,” Sydney said, wanting to draw everyone’s attention to her. “Would you mind changing out the coffeepot before you sit down? Where’s Charlie today? At the babysitter’s?”
“He’s in the car. I’m not staying.” Violet was wearing tight, dirty jeans and a sweater so big it fell off one shoulder, revealing her bra strap. She stood there and nervously chewed on a fingernail.
“Excuse me for a moment, Bea,” Sydney said, palming her scissors and walking to the reception area. “What car?”
“I bought Roy’s old Toyota. I told you. I just need a little more money. I told him I’d give the rest to him today.”
“I don’t understand.” Sydney went to the window. “Is Charlie out there alone?”
Violet stood beside her and pointed. “I’m parked at the hydrant. I can see him from here. Can I have an advance on my paycheck?”
Janey was still at the reception desk, since her next appointment wasn’t until three. She was listening with interest. “I can’t do that, Violet,” Sydney said.
“At least give me the money from the days I’ve worked.”
“You got your check on Friday. You’ve only worked Saturday so far.”
“Then give me that!”
Sydney paused for a moment, using silence the way she did with her daughter, as a reset button. “What’s going on?” Sydney finally asked her.
“I’m leaving. I’m tired of this place. I’m tired of everything. I’m tired of Roy and Florence. I wake up almost every night and Roy is watching me. It’s creepy.” Violet started chewing her nail again. “I’m not putting up with that shit. Not again.”
Again? Sydney thought, feeling a shiver. “If it’s that bad out there and you need a place to stay, you and Charlie can stay with me.”
Janey, who had been taking a sip out of her water bottle, choked when Sydney said that.
“I’m not staying with you,” Violet said, as if Sydney had suggested something farcical. “I know where you live. I’m not staying at a dairy farm. I want to be someplace where there are lights and people.”
“So you’re leaving town, just like that?” Sydney asked.
“If you give me my money, yes!”
“Does Charlie even have a car seat?”
Violet rolled her eyes. “Pay me for Saturday, plus my tip. Then I’ll go. That’s my money.”
Sydney managed to look confused. “What tip?”
“Everyone here gets a tip. I always give myself one at the end of the day. From the cash register. It’s only fair.”
“Can I say good-bye to Charlie?” Sydney asked, hoping to take this outside. The entire salon was watching now.
But Violet wouldn’t budge. “He’s sleeping.”
Without another word, Sydney gave Violet some money out of her hip apron and Violet left.
“She was stealing from you?” Janey asked.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Sydney said, not turning to her. She didn’t want to talk about the fact that she’d known for weeks now, but she’d been hoping that her persistence, her unfailing belief in Violet, would turn things around.
But Violet really was set in stone, deep down, where Sydney couldn’t see. Sydney could only see the outer layer, which was young and malleable. And even that would harden with age.
As much as that upset her, the fact that Violet was taking Charlie hurt even more. Charlie, that sweet, innocent boy. Sydney stood at the window and watched Violet pull away from the curb in a beat-up gray Toyota Corolla.
And she felt an ache, a hollow, so large it brought tears to her eyes.