Chapter Twenty-Eight
Susan sat quietly in a chair in the only salon in town. There was nothing she could do to make the feeling of guilt go away. It did not matter that she recognized her reflection; the woman she saw disgusted her. She had overcome so much in her life, but found herself making the same mistakes she did as an adolescent. Her father was no longer there for her. She ached to see him; to talk to him. He always told her that having kids motivated him to clean up his act, but never got the chance to explain why or how. Was he as confused as she about the depth of true commitment? Did he harbor feelings for past loves? His marriage to her mother ended ugly and his life plunged into an abyss of vices that left him a mere shell of the man he once was, until it finally cost him his life. She was sure that his experiences would have been invaluable to her if he had only shared them.
There were no familiar faces in the store and Susan did not feel comfortable striking up a conversation with anyone around her, so she picked up a magazine and began to quickly turn the pages. Maybe she could find the hairstyle that reflected the woman she had be-come. There were seven people there, all women who carried on at least three different conversations, and each one was involved in them all. Susan flipped mindlessly through the pages of the magazine as she eaves-dropped on what was being said. It was obvious that Karen owned the shop. Susan appreciated how she paid attention to each customer in the store whether they were in her chair or waiting. Karen bossed around the other hairdresser and was very loud and boisterous as she attempted to entertain everyone in the shop.
“Honey, I don’t know what I’m gonna do,” Karen said in her consistently loud tone, addressing every-one in the shop while waving a pair of scissors. She continued, “Tryin’ to juggle two men at one time is about to kill me, honey.”
The women laughed, except Susan. She stared at the shop owner in a judgmental fashion, and then re-called her own betrayal and it pained her to realize that she had allowed her emotional infidelity to become physical.
One lady replied, “I can’t understand why the hell you’d want two of them. If you want three you can have mine.”
Laughter erupted throughout the shop again.
“Honey, I wouldn’t be able to do it if it weren’t for my Prozac,” Karen said. “If I took your man off your hands, Dr. Wheeler would have to double up my prescription.”
Yet again, laughter filled the salon. Susan smiled nervously at the remarks, masking her pain. She looked around at the ladies and noticed one who had a tolerant smile on her face. The two made eye contact and ex-changed a pleasant nod.
When Karen was finished with the lady who sat in her chair, she walked with her to the counter. The woman said, “I’ll see you in two weeks, okay?” as she removed cash from her purse.
“Sweetie, you come back whenever you like,” Karen said to the woman as she walked out of the shop. She turned to the woman who sat next to Susan. “Judy, you’re next, hun!”
Judy stood and walked over to the empty barber chair. The lady Susan had exchanged a glance with stood and walked over to the vacant chair and sat down. She carried with her the magazine she was reading and laid it in her lap. She looked at Susan and smiled. In a soft tone she introduced herself, “Hi, I’m Cindy Stein.”
“Hi, I’m Susan Styles.”
“You aren’t from Erstwhile are you?” Cindy asked. “I mean, I’ve never seen you in here before.” She attempted to soften her tone.
“No. My husband and I have only been here for three months.”
“Are you retired?” Cindy asked.
“No. We own the mercantile store down the street.”
“Oh! That’s you? I’ve been meaning to shop there. I’ll have to make a point of it now.”
“Are you retired?” Susan asked.
“Yes. My husband and I are from Kansas. We came down right before the big real estate boom at the beach. Not that we saw it coming. We were just lucky.”
The small talk did not last, as the ladies were afraid their whispers would be frowned upon. They began reading their magazines again. After a few minutes, Susan sensed that there was something else that Cindy wanted to say. She looked over as Cindy leaned in to whisper. “So, what do you think of these people?”
“Oh, I don’t know. They seem nice,” Susan said.
“It didn’t take Jerry and I, Jerry is my husband, very long to realize that we had stepped back in time,” Cindy said, raising her eyebrows. She continued to whisper, “This place truly is the ‘Old South.’”
“Really,” was all she said. How could she feel secure enough in the person she was to offer criticism of others? The laughter in the shop continued at a raucous level. The conversation mostly centered on men and how they had no idea what made women happy. Although she was tempted, Susan resisted airing details of her past.
Cindy leaned toward Susan, again. “All they ever do when they come in here is talk about how horribly their spouses treat them. And, they talk about how everyone in town, except them, is getting rich. And, if I hear one more time about how that mill company screwed everyone I swear I’ll puke. I mean, if your life is bad, you’re the only one that can change that, am I right?” Without taking a breath she continued, “Look at their mouths, I mean, when they’re not laughing. The corners of their mouths turn downward, they droop. They just look miserable.”
“Well, they don’t look happy,” Susan agreed, but knew the words Cindy spoke could just as easily describe her.
“I don’t know about you, but Jerry and I have been married for thirty seven years. Every morning when I wake up, I give thanks that he is in my life, and he knows it!”
“I was just thinking the same thing,” Susan lied because the disdain she felt for herself was overwhelming. “Richard and I have only been married for a few years, but I know I’m lucky. We don’t always agree but we work it out, amicably.”
Cindy sensed the reticence in her friend. “I know it may be a bit uncouth, me talking like this, but I guess I saw you sitting over here and could tell you weren’t from around here. Just don’t let the animals get you down.” The woman felt compelled to explain. “I guess I let some of these people piss me off sometimes. Jerry and I were riding bikes one day and someone’s dog attacked us. The dog wasn’t fenced, or leashed, and bit my foot. I had running shoes on and the thick rubber sole protected me from the bite. When Jerry went to the guy’s house and asked if he’d keep his dog locked up. Do you know what he said to Jerry?”
“No,” Susan said.
“That there wasn’t a leash law at the beach. Can you believe that?”
“What was the man’s name?”
“Gaylord something-or-other,” Cindy answered. “Listen, Jerry and I have a group of friends that get together for drinks every now and then. Would you and your husband like to come some time?”
“Sure.”
The women were interrupted when Karen shouted loudly, “Cindy, get over here. I’m a dollar waitin’ on a dime, girl!”
Cindy stood and walked toward the empty chair. She stopped and turned toward Susan. “I’ll give you a call sometime.”
“That would be nice.”
When Cindy sat down, Karen continued to entertain the ladies. “Ya’ll know my friend Jocelyn, right?”
Several of the ladies replied in unison, “Yeah.”
“Well, the other day that girl went to Panama, to the plastic surgeon, to get those Botox injections. Man, that girl has Botox in her forehead, collagen in her lips and silicon in her tits. I’m afraid if she has any other parts replaced, she’ll be more like a mannequin in a dress shop than the girl I grew up with!”
The salon erupted in laughter, louder than any time before. Instead of participating in the innocent mirth, Susan wished that she could replace her soul with a synthetic substitute. No matter how difficult her life had been, she had never held such an ill opinion of herself.