The rest of the day goes pretty much the same as I ring around her clients and I rub at my temple, wondering what Sam is doing. Before I know it, it’s four in the afternoon and I’m exhausted. I have no more clients left for today so I start to tidy up when the bell on the salon door chimes.
I smile in greeting at the familiar woman and her two little girls, although I only remember her having one.
“Hey there, Katy,” I say, as the four year old runs up to me.
“Hi, my sister is here too. Her name’s Adi,” she says innocently, pointing at the older looking girl.
She gives me a tentative smile and I smile back. “Hi, Adi.” I look at their mom, Faith. “What can I do for you?”
“Sorry to barge in like this, you’re probably not free, but I thought I’d try anyway. Me and Adi both need a trim,” she says, looking hopeful.
I brush away my tiredness because something about this woman makes me want to befriend her.
“You’re actually in luck, it just so happens that I’m free for the both of you. Faith, right?”
“Yeah,” she says, tucking a lock of mousey brown hair behind her ear.
“Adi, you go first, sweetie.” She tells her daughter.
I point to the chair and Adi, who can’t be much older than ten, eyes it warily before walking over to it. She’s completely different to her spunky little sister that it throws me, but I’ve never been one to turn down a challenge, I’ll get her to smile before she leaves here.
The two girls look so much like their mom apart from their hair. Katy’s is a vibrant blonde to suit her personality and Adi’s is almost a chocolate brown, but looks as if it has light running through it. It’s all natural and such an unusual color, but it’s beautiful.
“So what we doing for you today then, Adi?” I say, looking at her in the mirror.
She keeps her head down and doesn’t look up, she just shrugs and her mom walks over to me. “She doesn’t talk much, I normally cut her hair so this is a treat for us both,” she says cautiously.
“That’s cool, would you mind if I suggested something Adi?”
I make sure to direct my question at her so it doesn’t seem like she isn’t involved in the decision with her own hair. She nods and I ask her to lift her head up so I can show her what I mean. She lifts her head cautiously.
“Well, your hairs already so pretty so I thought if we just take enough off the ends so it’s nice and healthy again, then we could cut some little layers around the front here to frame your face. How does that sound?”
She nods and for the first time, she looks me in eyes through the mirror and my heart clenches at the sadness in them.
What’s going on with this girl?
I don’t voice anything on it and start dry cutting her hair. She really is a beautiful little girl, in fact, they all are with their matching blue eyes and freckles dotting their noses. They look like a clean cut wholesome family, so why are Faith and Adi’s eyes conveying a different story?
When I’m done with her hair, she finally looks into the mirror and a small smile pulls at her lips.
“Do you like it?” I ask.
Her head bobs up and down, yes, and I call Faith over from the window seat where she’s playing I-spy with Katy. She swaps places with Adi, and for the first time since she walked in here, I can see that she’s nervous.
“Is everything okay? You do like her hair don’t you?” I say as I start to question myself.
She nods her head and smiles nervously at me. “Yes of course, you did an awesome job, thank you. I just… well it’s a little embarrassing but I banged my neck getting out from under the table the other day just to let you know, no biggie, it doesn’t hurt so go about working your magic.”
I know a fake smile when I see one, I’ve had to plaster them on enough to recognize even the tiniest of them all. But I smile at her back, ever the professional, and ask her what she wants done to her hair. The way it is right now, brittle at the ends and falling to her mid back, I can already tell it needs at least three inches off and would look beautiful with a little balayage, brightened up with a chocolatey-brown color and layers put in, but I let her talk before putting in my two cent.
“Just a trim, thanks,” she squeaks, messing around with her hands like she can’t keep still.
I tell her what I think, like I always do with every client, but she shakes her head. “I can’t afford anything more than a trim right now.”
She gives me another nervous smile and I don’t even need to think about it before I’m walking into the back to mix up some color. To hell with that, if anyone needs a little bit of special treatment right now, it’s this woman.
Hell, she’s probably only a year or two older than me, but looks like she has as much of a story to tell as I do. I sympathize with her and what’s better than that, she doesn’t look at me, treat me, or talk to me any different than she would anybody else, and damn if that isn’t refreshing.
“Sorry, I think you must’ve misheard me. I said I couldn’t afford that right now.”
She shifts in her chair like she’s going to flee having been made to say it a second time.