"Four years."
"Where'd you grow up?"
"Pennsylvania," Katie said. "I lived in Atlantic City before I moved here."
"Was that your husband who dropped you off?"
"Yes."
"He's got a nice car. I saw it when you were waving. What is it? A Mustang?"
Katie nodded again but didn't answer. Rachel worked for a little while in silence, applying color and wrapping the foil.
"How long have you been married?" Rachel asked as she coated and wrapped a particularly tricky strand of hair.
"Four years."
"That's why you moved to Dorchester, huh?"
"Yes."
Rachel kept up her patter. "So what do you do?"
Katie stared straight ahead, trying not to see herself. Wishing that she were someone else. She could be here for an hour and a half before Kevin came back and she prayed he wouldn't arrive early.
"I don't have a job," Katie answered.
"I'd go crazy if I didn't work. Not that it's always easy. What did you do before you were married?"
"I was a cocktail waitress."
"In one of the casinos?"
Katie nodded.
"Is that where you met your husband?"
"Yes," Katie said.
"So what's he doing now? While you're getting your hair done?"
He's probably at a bar, Katie thought. "I don't know."
"Why didn't you drive, then? Like I said, it's kind of out of the way."
"I don't drive. My husband drives me when I need to go somewhere."
"I don't know what I'd do without a car. I mean, it's not much but it gets me to where I need to go. I'd hate to have to depend on someone else like that."
Katie could smell perfume in the air. The radiator below the counter had begun to click. "I never learned to drive."
Rachel shrugged as she worked another piece of foil into Katie's hair. "It's not hard. Practice a little, take the test, and you're good to go."
Katie stared at Rachel in the mirror. Rachel seemed to know what she was doing, but she was young and starting out and Katie still wished she were older and more experienced. Which was odd, because she was probably only a couple of years older than Rachel. Maybe less than that. But Katie felt old.
"Do you have kids?"
"No."
Perhaps the girl sensed that she'd said something wrong, because she worked in silence for the next few minutes, the foils making Katie look like she had alien antennae, before finally leading Katie to another seat. Rachel turned on a heat lamp.
"I'll be back to check in a few minutes, okay?"
Rachel wandered off, toward another stylist. They were talking but the chatter in the salon made it impossible to overhear them. Katie glanced at the clock. Kevin would be back in less than an hour. Time was going fast, too fast.
Rachel came back and checked on her hair. "A little while longer," she chirped, and resumed her conversation with her colleague, gesturing with her hands. Animated. Young and carefree. Happy.
More minutes passed. Then, a dozen. Katie tried not to stare at the clock. Finally, it was time, and Rachel removed the foil before leading Katie to the sink. Katie sat and leaned back, resting her neck against the towel. Rachel turned the water on and Katie felt a splash of cool water against her cheek. Rachel massaged the shampoo in her hair and scalp and rinsed, then added conditioner and rinsed again.
"Now let's trim you up, okay?"
Back at the station, Katie thought her hair looked okay, but it was hard to tell when it was wet. It had to be right or Kevin would notice. Rachel combed Katie's hair straight, getting out the tangles. There were forty minutes left.
Rachel stared into the mirror at Katie's reflection. "How much do you want taken off?"
"Not too much," Katie said. "Just enough to clean it up. My husband likes it long."
"How do you want it styled? I've got a book over there if you want something new."
"How I had it when I came in is fine."
"Will do," Rachel said.
Katie watched as Rachel used a comb, running her hair through her fingers, then snipped it with the scissors. First the back, then the sides. And finally the top. Somewhere, Rachel had found a piece of gum and she chewed, her jaw moving up and down as she worked.
"Okay so far?"
"Yes. I think that's enough."
Rachel reached for the hair dryer and a circular brush. She ran the brush slowly through Katie's hair, the noise of the dryer loud in her ear.
"How often do you get your hair done?" Rachel asked, making small talk.
"Once a month," Katie answered. "But sometimes I just get it cut."
"You have beautiful hair, by the way."
"Thank you."
Rachel continued to work. Katie asked for some light curls and Rachel brought out the curling iron. It took a couple of minutes to heat up. There were still twenty minutes left.
Rachel curled and brushed until she was finally satisfied and studied Katie in the mirror.
"How's that?"
Katie examined the color and the style. "That's perfect," she said.
"Let me show you the back," Rachael said. She spun Katie's chair around and handed her a mirror. Katie stared into the double reflection and nodded.
"Okay, that's it, then," Rachel said.
"How much is it?"
Rachel told her and Katie dug into her purse. She pulled out the money she needed, including the tip. "Could I have a receipt?"
"Sure," Rachel said. "Just come with me to the register."
The girl wrote it up. Kevin would check it and ask for the change when she got back in the car, so she made sure Rachel included the tip. She glanced at the clock. Twelve minutes.
Kevin had yet to return and her heart was beating fast as she slipped her jacket and gloves back on. She left the salon while Rachel was still talking to her. Next door, at Radio Shack, she asked the clerk for a disposable cell phone and a card that allowed her twenty hours of service. She felt faint as she said the words, knowing that after this, there was no turning back.
He pulled one out from under the counter and began to ring her up while he explained how it worked. She had extra money in her purse tucked into a tampon case because she knew Kevin would never look there. She pulled it out, laying the crumpled bills on the counter. The clock was continuing to tick and she looked out at the lot again. She was beginning to feel dizzy and her mouth had gone dry.
It took the clerk forever to ring her up. Though she was paying cash, he asked for her name, address, and zip code. Pointless. Ridiculous. She wanted to pay and get out of there. She counted to ten and the clerk still typed. On the road, the light had turned red. Cars were waiting. She wondered if Kevin was getting ready to turn into the lot. She wondered if he would see her leaving the store. It was hard for her to breathe again.
She tried to open the plastic packaging, but it was impossible-as strong as steel. Too big for her small handbag, too big for her pocket. She asked the clerk for a pair of scissors and it took him a precious minute to find one. She wanted to scream, to tell him to hurry because Kevin would be here any minute. She turned toward the window instead.
When the phone was free, she jammed it into her jacket pocket along with the prepaid card. The clerk asked if she wanted a bag but she was out the door without answering. The phone felt like lead, and the snow and ice made it hard to keep her balance.
She opened the door of the salon and went back inside. She slipped off her jacket and gloves and waited by the register. Thirty seconds later, she saw Kevin's car turn into the lot, angling toward the salon.
There was snow on her jacket and she quickly brushed at it as Rachel came toward her. Katie panicked at the thought that Kevin might have noticed. She concentrated, urging herself to stay in control. To act natural.
"Did you forget something?" Rachel asked.
Katie exhaled. "I was going to wait outside but it's too cold," she explained. "And then I realized I didn't get your card."
Rachel's face lit up. "Oh, that's right. Hold on a second," she said. She walked toward her station and pulled a card from the drawer. Katie knew that Kevin was watching her from inside the car, but she pretended not to notice.
Rachel returned with her business card and handed it over. "I usually don't work on Sundays or Mondays," she said.
Katie nodded. "I'll give you a call."
Behind her, she heard the door open and Kevin was standing in the doorway. He usually didn't come inside and her heart pounded. She slipped her jacket back on, trying to control the trembling of her hands. Then, she turned and smiled.
18
The snow was falling harder as Kevin Tierney pulled the car into the driveway. There were bags of groceries in the backseat and Kevin grabbed three of them before walking toward the door. He'd said nothing on the drive from the salon, had said little to her in the grocery store. Instead, he'd walked beside her as she scanned the shelves looking for sales and trying not to think about the phone in her pocket. Money was tight and Kevin would be angry if she spent too much. Their mortgage took nearly half his salary, and credit card bills consumed another chunk. Most of the time, they had to eat in, but he liked restaurant-type meals, with a main course and two side dishes and sometimes a salad. He refused to eat leftovers and it was hard to make the budget stretch. She had to plan the menu carefully, and she cut coupons from the newspaper. When Kevin paid for the groceries, she handed him the change from the salon and the receipt. He counted the money, making sure everything was there.