“Not for normal people. But a Mayhem house mouse…” Fancy shrugged.
“You have a killer body, Hil. We’ve been swimming with you girls. You’re all curves and fifties pin-up-style soda bottle,” Summer said gesturing with her hands. “Time to flaunt it.”
“I don’t want to flaunt it. I like to leave it up to the imagination,” Hilary protested.
“Always mysterious,” Summer said, wiggling her eyebrows.
“I think it’s the author in her. Aren’t all writers supposed to be just a bit eccentric?” Fancy said.
“I resent that,” Hilary said laughing.
“She laughs!” Fancy threw her hands up in the air. “Life’s too short to let the gears grind you down, babe. Trust me; I know. I want to see you happy. If the other girls can find someone to hold on to in the midst of all this bullshit, there has to be hope for us, right?”
“I sure hope so,” Summer whispered. Essentially she was a house mouse on a larger scale, though Hilary had never asked about the debt she was chipping away at.
“Enough gloominess, we’re going to spend money that doesn’t belong to us on clothes and shoes. It’s a good day,” Fancy said with a whimsical wave of her hand. Magic opened the back seat, and they piled in, buckling their seat belts.
“First stop, the hairdresser for a consultation and appointment setting,” Summer said.
Hilary winced, and fingered the ends of her silky strands. “That scares me.”
“Don’t be scared of Donna. The woman we’re going to see is a master at color, and with your skin tone, you can rock any shade you’d like,” Fancy said.
“I think she’d be a hot redhead,” Summer said.
“Red,” Hilary said.
“Well not fire-engine red, but a subtle auburn maybe.” Fancy narrowed her eyes. “Any shade of brown would be too close to the dark brown you already have going, and black wouldn’t make you unrecognizable. Unless you want to chop it off, you’ll have to go pretty drastic for it to make a difference.”
I feel like I’m trapped in makeover hell.
“You could always see if blondes have more fun,” Summer said patting her hair. “I think they do.”
“No no, red. Red’s good,” Hilary said as images of her hair breaking due to harsh bleaching danced in her head. Ten minutes later they pulled into Style and Smiles. With its black sign and white rocker-style lettering, it looked more like a tattoo parlor than a hair salon.
“I know it’s different, but in this instance, that’s a good thing,” Summer said, placing a hand on Hilary’s shoulder.
“I’m an open book right now, huh?” Hilary said.
“No, just overwhelmed. We both know what that’s like, so we want to help.” Fancy offered up a smile.
“You? That’s hard to imagine.” Hilary shook her head.
Fancy laughed. “Oh, I’ve gotten good at faking it. I had years to adjust, same as Summer. You were pulled in by proxy.” The door opened and they climbed down with Magic and Tex trailing them a few feet away.
“You guys are going to follow us all day?” Hilary said.
“Those are the orders. You guys just…do your girl thing and ignore us,” Tex said. His Southern drawl made her smile. There really was something to that Southern charm people spoke about.
“You’re so sweet, Tex,” Fancy said. Tex looked away and his cheeks grew pink. She giggled and continued inside, turning away from him.
“So mean, Fancy,” Summer whispered.
“What? He’s adorable,” Fancy said.
The salon’s rock and roll theme continued inside with black-and-white-striped walls, funky zebra-striped couches in the waiting area and a massive black desk. The woman behind the counter wore a slinky black dress that reminded Hil of the fifties. Her Betty Page bags cut straight across her heart-shaped face, and the jet-black color stood out against her olive skin.
“Afternoon, girls, what can we do for you today?”