“Rach, he’s on the phone again,” Josh hissed, holding his hand over the receiver.
It was a Tuesday-almost two weeks since she’d gone on a non-date with Jake and had non-sex with him in the limo-and Carly should have been answering the phone but Rachel had finally had to fire her after she’d double booked two more appointments and then failed to show up to work without calling last week.
Rachel sighed and shook her head. “Tell him I’m not here.”
“Like you’re ever not here.” He snorted, uncovering the receiver and putting on his phone voice. “I’m sorry, Mr. Malden, she’s unavailable.” Rachel cringed and continued sweeping the floor. Joshie had just finished a cut, but it was a touch-up for one of the other stylists who had gone home early. It was now the two of them now and the place was pretty much dead, which wasn’t surprising for near closing on a Tuesday night. Well, Rapunzel’s might have been empty, but she had to find something to do to keep herself busy.
“I will…” Joshie nodded against the phone, rolling his eyes. It reminded Rachel of Emma and she wondered how the girl was doing, how her friend had fared with her cancer treatments. She could have asked Jake of course, if she’d taken any of the three hundred phone calls she’d received from him since that night in the limo, but she was too ashamed to answer. Thank god for voice mail and Joshie.
“You really need to talk to that man.” Joshie put down the phone and gave her a long, steady look. Rachel shrugged, using the dust pan to sweep up wisps of hair. “So you had sex on the first date-lots of people do, you know. It doesn’t have to be the end of everything. It can be a great beginning!”
“It’s not that.” Rachel hid her blush as she dumped the hair in the bin and hung the broom and dust pan. Okay, so it was that. She was embarrassed by how she’d acted, how much she’d let happen that night, but it wasn’t just that. Life was too complicated right now. She couldn’t afford a relationship, and she certainly couldn’t do crazy things like having sex with practical strangers.
“Pul-eeeeeeeze!” Joshie rolled his eyes so far back in his head he looked like he was going to pass out. “You are so transparent. I’m gonna nickname you ‘Casper,’ girl!” She turned to face him, crossing her arms over her chest. “I am not.”
“You like him.” Joshie smiled, a slow, knowing sort of smile that made Rachel want to strangle him. “You like him so much it scares you.”
“I do not.” She turned and stalked to her station, straightening, putting scissors away, the blow dryer back in its place.
Joshie came over to stand beside her. He was short and stocky and his chin was the perfect height to rest on her shoulder as he looked into the mirror.
“Look at that.” He pointed to her reflection, meeting her eyes. “You’re a beautiful woman. He was attracted to you. Believe it.”
“Without this?” She tugged on her wig, feeling the adhesive underneath starting to give. It was a strong sort of glue, but as the day wore on, it became less and less effective.
He put his arms around her waist and gave her a strong squeeze. “He’s not going to like you any less because you’re sick.”
“How do you know?” She let herself relax a little against him.
“Because he’s a good guy,” he insisted. “And if he leaves when he finds out, well then hell, we both know he wasn’t worth it.”
Rachel sighed and moved out of Joshie’s arms, sitting down in the salon chair and giving herself a long, hard look. The wig was a good one-she’d paid a mint for it-
and didn’t look too obvious. But she knew what was underneath it-the few golden-auburn wisps that were left. And what was underneath that-her insecurity, her self-pity, her fear of rejection, her self-doubt and how it had all made her question her own basic femininity.
Josh peeled up the edge of the wig, peering at her hairline. “How’s it going under there anyway?”
“Awful.” She made a face. “It’s almost all gone.”
“It’s a barbaric treatment… almost worse than the damned disease.” Joshie petted her wig. It was real human hair, a big luxury in wigs, especially one so long.
Someone like Emma had donated her hair for a wig like this, Rachel thought, leaning her head back against Joshie as he smoothed the hair over her shoulders. “Sometimes I think they might as well just use leeches.”
“Don’t say that.” She reached back and squeezed his hand. “I’m hoping it works.”
“I hope so too.” His smile was bright-too bright, and she knew it was for her benefit, a sort of fake optimism. But she didn’t blame him. It was hard to be truly hopeful in the face of mortality, your own or anyone else’s. “How many more treatments?”
“I’m done for this round.” Rachel sounded relieved, and she was. “Now it’s just wait and see.”
“Want me to give you a scalp treatment?” Joshie brightened, for real this time.
“Come on, no one’s here and our appointments are done for the night. It will do you some good. And you’ve got to be suffering under that thing.”
“I hate it.” Yet her wig was gorgeous, the envy of everyone who came into the salon. They all thought it was her real hair. Her deception was a good one.
“Then let’s get it off you.”
It took a lot for her to let him, but in the end, she trusted him enough to say yes.
Joshie applied adhesive remover under the edges of her wig and sat her down like a client in a chair with a magazine and brought her a cappuccino to wait for it to start to work while he mixed some sort of concoction in a tray.
“What is that?” she asked, sipping her coffee, glad she splurged for the good stuff for her clients.
“Lots of stuff that’s good for your skin.” Joshie looked like a mad scientist with bottles lined up on the counter. “My last boyfriend shaved his head and I used to do this for him once a week. Made his head soft as a baby’s bottom.”
“You must have enjoyed that.”
Joshie grinned. “You have no idea.”
“You said we didn’t have any more appointments.” Rachel put down her coffee and stood as the bell to the front door rang.
“We don’t.” Joshie looked up. “Must be a walk-in…”
“Oh no.” Rachel recognized him immediately-that dark curly mane of hair and mischievous smile-but she put on a professional face, walking past a stunned and rooted-to-the-floor Joshie, already greeting them as she reached the lobby, “Hi Mr.
Malden. Emma! Good to see you. Who’s your friend?”
There were three of them this time, Jake standing just behind the two young girls.
Emma introduced her friend, although Rachel would have guessed, just from the colorful scarf tied around her head. “This is Liv.”
“You can’t be here for a haircut,” Rachel remarked. She heard Joshie coming up behind her, recovered from his shock. “You just had one.”
“Actually, we are.” Emma reached over and grabbed Liv’s hand. “I want to get my head shaved.”
“Ummmm…” Rachel glanced at Jake, incredulous. He shrugged. Just looking at him made her knees feel weak and she chided herself, focusing her attention back on Emma. “Are you sure about that?”
“Liv wants to get her head shaved too,” Emma explained.
“We’re gonna go all Britney Spears together.” Liv spoke up for the first time, doing something so brave it took Rachel’s breath away. She pulled the scarf off her head to reveal the typical cancer-treatment hairdo with little tufts of fine blond hair sticking up on her scalp.
“Completely bald?” Rachel managed to ask, finding breath left somewhere in her lungs.
“Completely.” Emma’s face was resolute.