She pulled away from our embrace and wiped the few signs of sadness away as she raised a brow, “Me live where it is constantly raining and gloomy? Yeah, no offense but I really don’t prefer to live someplace where my head would be a permanent frizz ball.” And she was back, her little moment of weakness was all but forgotten and she was ready to move on.
“Come on,” she waved an arm towards her stylist chair, “you owe me big and I’m thinking I’ll cash it in in the form of a new haircut.”
My eyes widened, matching those of a deer in headlights, “Now, Jules, let’s not get irrational. I’m not just going to let you have free rein on my hair.”
Feigning annoyance, she shoved her finger in the direction of the chair, “Sit down, shut up, and let me see that ring that’s weighing down your left hand.” She cracked a small smile before going back to her signature resting bitch face where no emotions would show through.
Following instructions, I did as she asked, sitting in her chair and then raising my hand so that my ring was perched beautifully on display for my best friend to admire.
“Eden, it’s absolutely beautiful. You definitely deserve it. And I suppose I could say that I’m a bit envious of you, but if you blab that to anyone else I’ll deny it to my grave.”
Blanketing a violet-colored cape around my body, she secured the Velcro on the backside and went to work. She started making little snips and cuts here and there on my dry hair, making me supremely worried it would come out looking hideous. But I hadn’t needed to worry; after she was all finished it looked as if she had only taken a little off the bottom, getting rid of all the split ends so my hair was fresh. She didn’t talk much as she was busy doing her thing with her magical scissors, but every so often I heard a sniffle come from her. She wanted everyone to think she was brave by putting up this bitchy exterior, but really on the inside she was a scared little girl and I really couldn’t tell you what made her that way.
Being her best friend I knew almost everything there ever was to know about her second husband, the rat bastard that he was. But she never once spoke about her first husband Logan and it wasn’t for my lack of trying. The only reason I knew his first name was because I basically pried it out of her one night while she was severely drunk.
I was sure that whatever had gone down between the two of them had to have been bad, especially for Julia to be so tight lipped about it. She dogged and made fun of Paul, her second husband, every single chance she got.
For example, I told her about how Baylor and Petunia was getting along so well so far, because Petunia wasn’t the type of dog that went to just anyone.
“Paul loved his fucking dog more than me, I really think. But that’s great that Petunia went to him willingly, I know she took a while to even warm up to Blaine,” she joked as she leaned up against her violet tool chest at her station, filing her nails as we talked.
“So when is lover boy coming to get you?” Just as soon as she asked, the door opened and there was my man in all his sexy glory, his broad shoulders filling out a Jenkins Plumbing t-shirt paired over khaki cargo shorts. The man was absolute sin in anything he wore. Julia had only seen the picture that was placed on my end table so seeing her initial reaction to Baylor was priceless. Her mouth was hanging open and her fingernail file suspended in midair. Yeah, she liked what she saw, but careful, girlfriend, he’s mine.
She quickly recovered herself and straightened her posture just in time for Dean to come into the Salon right behind Baylor. Baylor’s face lit up once our eyes connected and he came straight over and bent down to give me a brief peck on my lips. “Your hair looks nice, babe,” he complimented me.
Julia had her scissors back in her hands, as if they were her own personal shield to fend others off. “I hardly cut anything off and he still noticed? Do you have a brother?” She teased, knowing damn good and well he did from my stories of the past.
Baylor held out his hand, like the gentleman he was, “You must be Julia, I’m Baylor. I want to say what a pleasure it is to finally meet you.”
“He’s handsome and polite? Sign me up!” Julia exclaimed as she grasped his outstretched hand. “Oh, and big strong hands.” She looked at me and said, “You know what they say about big strong hands,” and winked. Oh yeah, I knew all right.
“What’s that?” Baylor retorted while placing his hands into the pockets of his shorts, hiding the evidence.
I don’t think Jules intended for him to comment but she was quick with a comeback, “Oh you know, big hands equal massive gloves,” then released a giggle.
Dean was standing a ways back, looking quite uncomfortable. “Dean, come up here,” I said while waving my arm at him. “Dean, this is my best friend Julia. Jules, this is one of my best friends from high school, Dean.”
Julia didn’t look amused in the slightest and when I finally focused on what Dean’s gaze was fixed on I couldn’t say that I blamed her.
“Hey, chump!” Julia yelled, and pointed two fingers at her eyes, “my eyes are up here.” Finally Dean snapped out of his transfixed stare on her breasts, which by the way were fake. She would randomly yell that out to strangers because it was the one thing she had been able to get out of Paul and she was proud of them puppies. So I found it rather odd that she was directing him away from her cleavage that looked to be spilling over the top of her low-cut shirt. She perched a hand on her hip and jutted it out, “Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to piss a lady off while she’s wielding a weapon?” She brought her other hand forward and pointed her scissors in his direction, showing him her weapon of choice.
Dean, not having spoken a single word since he arrived in the Salon, cleared his throat, crossed his arms in front of his chest and said, “You know, I do recall her mentioning something about that, but the only lady I see around is Eden and it takes a lot for me to piss her off. Plus her hands are free.”
Julia assumed her defensive position, “You ass clown,” she seethed, her chest heaving up and down. “Why I oughta,” she continued on, throwing her beloved scissors down on top of her work station and advancing towards Dean who was just standing there unmoving with a cocky smirk on his face.
I had to quickly dart from my chair to get in front of Julia, and Baylor moved swiftly to my side to help hold her back and keep her from pouncing on Dean, who continued to stand there unphased by the whole ordeal.
“Seriously,” Baylor said, “I feel like I’m trying to break up a fight between Norah and Polly. Calm down, you’re like a freaking spider monkey,” he continued on, struggling to keep her in his grasp.
Finally, she calmed down and began fixing her clothing which just made her chest protrude out even further on display. “I’m ok, I’m all right.” But I didn’t think she was all right, I thought my moving out of state away from her was going to be harder on her than I had thought.
Epilogue
Eden
The trip home lasted three days. Three long, exhausting days, each with about twelve hours of drive time split between the three of us. Baylor drove most of the time, but there were times when my overprotectiveness took over and I made him switch places with one of us so he could rest.
We were able to talk about anything and everything and there were things that each of us learned about one another.
For instance, Baylor could not sing to save himself. I vaguely remembered his inability to carry a tune but it had gotten much worse as he got older. Even so, it did nothing to hold him back from belting Taylor Swift at the top of his lungs. I believe my ears rang for several days afterwards.