Something I never have to worry about with Damon, getting drunk and not coming home. Sure, he goes out and has a few beers with his brothers occasionally, but he’s not an alcoholic. That’s something I never want to deal with again. Total dealbreaker for me.
We all get ready for our spa day, wondering what even happens at spas. Hair? Makeup? Sauna? We can only go off what we’ve seen in movies.
My phone beeps with a message.
Harper: What are you doing today?
Me: Spa day with my mom. Damon flew her in to surprise me for the holiday. Isn’t that sweet?
Harper: Seriously though. Please tell me his brother is single!!!!
Instead of answering, I smile and slip my phone back in my pocket and head to the car, wondering how this experience is going to go.
When we pull up and go inside, it’s not what I’m expecting. There are women everywhere, some getting their hair done, some getting waxed, and others nails. They are in fluffy robes and slippers and look like they’re having the time of their lives. So, this must be what it feels like to be rich Stepford wives.
“Can I help you?”
“Yes, we have appointments at ten. Tessa, Leslie, and Emily,” I say, looking around the room.
Emily tugs on my shirt. “Do I get to do this too?”
I nod and a smile erupts across her face. She’s so excited.
“It looks like we have you down for hair, nails, and massages. You ready?” he asks, waiting for us to respond.
“Oh yes... of course.”
The three of us sit down on the salon chairs and look at each other like we don’t belong here.
“So what are we doing with hair today?” a sweet middle-aged woman asks me.
“I would just like a cut for my daughter and me. Whatever my mom wants for herself is fine.”
“Just a cut,” she replies.
The stylist looks at us like we’re insane. “Just a cut. No blowout or color... nothing? Looks like it’s covered by a credit card. You can have more than just a cut, sweetie.”
I think about how I always wanted to have blond highlights in my hair. Go big or go home, right? A little change won’t hurt. “Blond highlights for me. Just a cut for her.”
The stylist smiles. “You only live once. Ever had your hair colored before?”
“Nope. Never.”
“Then this should be a piece of cake. Sit back and relax.”
These chairs have built-in foot massagers. It wouldn’t be hard to take a good ole nap right here. The three of us sit back and let the ladies do their magic. Damon wants us to enjoy ourselves so I’m going to try my damndest to do so.
I’m enjoying my massage when my mom starts laughing. When I open my eyes to look at her, her hair is short. Now keep in mind that I haven’t exactly been listening to their conversation, but I’m sure that’s not what she asked for. It’s like a pixie cut short. That’s something my mother would have never asked for. She’s freaking out. I try to hold my composure as I stare at the lack of hair on my mother’s head and the glob of hair on the floor.
What if they mess up Emily’s or my hair? Now I’m scared to close my eyes and relax after seeing what happened to my mom.
When the stylist walks away, my mom looks over to me. “What the hell did this lady just do to me? Why would she cut my hair so short? This is not what I asked for.”
Her voice raises, and people around the spa start looking her way. “Mom, keep your voice down. Don’t make a scene.”
“Scene? Are you looking at the same haircut I am?” Her voice goes up another octave as the stylist walks back in, places a hair dryer on her station, and goes to the back.
So here we are at the beginning of our spa day, and already we’ve encountered an issue. Of course something like this would happen to us. It’s not like we come here often so maybe she just didn’t use the right words to describe what she wanted.