Chloe and Anita sat in the lounging area of the salon. Chloe was more accustomed to the least inexpensive salons, sometimes even just going to the beauty college when the need arose. She was used to the metal chairs with the bare minimum cushioning, not ones that were so plush and comfy she could sink into the leather. While she waited, Chloe inspected her fingernails, resisting the urge to bite them.

Anita was flipping through the magazines. One would think she was looking for a new look, but she never would. She was stubborn. The only times she got her hair cut was just an inch for healthy growth. After Chloe got her hair touched up, Anita was likely to drive them to her favorite stores for new outfits or whatever she thought they needed.

“This would be cute on you,” Anita showed Chloe a picture of a short haircut. They layered it but that was too radical of a change for her. She hadn’t had short hair since childhood.

“Hm…I don’t know.”

“Oh, come on. It would look great on you. And what better way to celebrate a new chapter in your life than with a new look?”

“Uh…I guess…Maybe…”

“Chloe?” The stylist was a tall shapely woman with glowing bronzed skin in dark wash Capri's, tan and black sandal wedges, and an off-the-shoulder black top. Her hair was in a messy bun swirling with green and blue strands. A Monroe piercing sparkled in the light when she smiled at them with painted red lips. “I’m Amber. It’s nice to meet you.”

“You, too.” Chloe followed Amber, weaving around the podium and between some shelves to her station, settling into the chair as her mother took her purse and coat.

“What are we doing today?”

“I want to touch this up,” Chloe pointed to her roots, “and I need a trim, too. But only, like, two inches at most, to refresh everything.”

Amber nodded along, running long fingers through Chloe’s hair. “Okay. Did you want to put layers into it?”

“I just want to freshen up whatever layers are there.”

“You should chop it all off,” Anita said in that familiar disappointed tone. Chloe hated that tone. Throughout high school that was the you’ll-never-amount-to-anything tone she defaulted to with late homework or botched speeches. Chloe almost forgot she was still there. She was blending into the background of hurried stylists trying to clean up from their last clients.

“Hey, Mom, it’s gonna take a while for the bleach to process. Do you want to go shopping and come back for me?”

“Excuse me a moment,” Amber said scurrying to the front to check in another patron.

“Do you really not want me here?” Anita asked when Amber was out of earshot. “I thought we would have actual mother-daughter time.”

“We are. I just don’t want you to get bored is all. We can walk around after—”

“It’s fine. I get it.” 

Amber returned with the practiced smile she used on all her clientele. “Shall we get started?”

“Call me when you’re done.” Anita tossed all of Chloe’s belongings by the chair. Anita turned on her heel and stormed out of the salon leaving Chloe gawking after her.

Chloe looked down to her lap, shifting to bring her knees together and her arms crossed against her waist, slouching. Amber unfurled a cape and secured the Velcro collar around her neck before spinning her to face the mirror. The whites of her eyes were turning red like she was trying to see underwater in a pool. Chloe’s gaze fell again.

“Um…if it’s not too much trouble, let’s just cut it off.” Chloe said.

“Really? How short do you want to go?”

“Here?” Chloe pressed the side of her palm against the nape of her neck. Go big or go home, as they say, right?

“Wow. That’s a lot!”

“It’s okay. It’s just hair.” A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, but couldn’t form. “I haven’t had short hair in a long time, so whatever you think will look good is okay with me. I want it gone.”

Amber hesitated before offering a smile. “If you’re sure let’s get started…But you have time to change your mind still, okay?”

“Thank you. But I won’t.”

⸙⸙⸙⸙⸙

When the timer beeped, Chloe had texted her mother to come back to the salon. She was hoping and praying for a miracle; that her mother would be in a much better frame of mind after some shopping. If not, the car ride home would be awkward and silent like it had been before the mania set in. 

(There were always difficulties with bipolar disorder, but sometimes it seemed like the ups were a little too high and the downs were a little too low. When Nathaniel first dated her mother, she’d heard a fight between them that involved talk of suicide; that was the last time.)

Amber pulled the cape away and finished blow drying the back of her neck to make sure there were no more remnants of hair to make her itch.

“Wow,” Chloe muttered as she stared at her foreign reflection. There was no more evidence of her brunette roots. No one would know she was a natural brunette had it not been for her eyebrows. For a second, she debated whether she should try to lighten those up, too. (That could be for a different time, she decided.) The lush mane she was so used to brushing out was so short she’d have to spend only a few minutes on it. Mousse made the short layers partnered into a fashionable mess.

“You know, if you did a nice smoky eye, you’d be ready to hit the clubs,” Amber said while admiring her work. “Or, when it grows out a little and you get a nice pair of black shades, you could totally pull off the ‘Atomic Blond’ look.” Handing over a mirror, she added, “What do you think? Do you like it?”

“Yeah. It’s…it’s different. And it’ll take getting used to. But it’s nice. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. And if you decide you don’t like it, it’s just hair, right? It’ll grow back and we’ll try something else.”

Chloe stayed put in the chair, even when Amber walked off to find the product she used to style the back.

“It’s just hair,” she repeated. “It’s just hair. It’ll grow back.”

One deep breath helped bring her focus back to the task at hand: paying the stylist for the new style and the touch up. The bottle of mousse was waiting on the counter.

Amber tapped a few buttons on the register. “Are you okay?” She asked, leaning forward on the counter.

“I’m fine, really. It’s just been a long day already.” Amber chuckled. And Chloe chuckled.

“I get that. I’ve had those days, too. So, let me make it better.” Chloe watched her stylist type on the register’s screen, manicured nails clacking with each movement. “There. The total is now…one-fifty even.”

Chloe blinked. “What?”

“One-fifty. I gave you the product for free and discounted the cut…” Amber’s voice faded off into the distance as Chloe stood trying to comprehend how much money it all cost.

Getting her hair touched up was her mother’s idea. Getting her hair cut so drastically was her mother’s idea. Going to this salon was her mother’s idea. And not once had she ever stopped to ask about the cost. Or about how it was being paid for. Her mother left—and who knows if she got her text message? There was enough money in her account right now to pay for the necessities of her next term and that was it. There was no wiggle room there. She had budgeted to the penny.

“There you are,” Anita’s voice cut through the panic. Chloe spun around only slightly relieved at the sight of her mother staring at her with narrowed eyes and one hand on her hip. It was the appraisal look. For a long moment she said nothing. “Oh.” She said. “Okay. Let me see the back.”

Chloe turned to show off the back before facing her again.

Anita looked worried, drawing in a breath between her teeth. “I don’t like it at all. But I’m sure it’ll look better once it grows out.” She pushed passed Chloe. “How much is it?”

“One-fifty, ma’am,” Amber said.

Anita didn’t hesitate to supply a credit card, swiping it on the control pad. With a signature, most of Chloe’s anxiety calmed. “Let’s go,” Anita said as she once again turned to leave.

Chloe looked at Amber. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Don’t listen to her; it looks cute on you. And if you want to talk or be friends or something, call me.” The bottle of product slid toward Chloe, a business card laying flat against the counter beneath it.

Chloe didn’t know what to say. She blushed deep and followed her mother.