Back to Life (2 page)

“Call
me Rory,” I interjected, and I narrowed my eyes and shot Brody a playful look.
He knew I hated being called Aurora. I
loathed
that name.

She
smiled timidly and said, “I’m Marissa O’Neal,” and pausing for a moment, she
looked to both of us and said quietly, “and thank you so much.” Ever since
then, Marissa and I were best friends, and I loved Brody even more for what he
did for her that day. Marissa’s family was actually very wealthy, but they never
flaunted their wealth like most people would. They also never allowed her to
look, dress, or act as if she were any better than anyone else, so naturally
everyone assumed she was lower class. After graduation, we couldn’t get out of
Selma fast enough. We moved to New York City together and never looked back.

She
smiled and stood up from the table to continue making breakfast. “So, can I
make you something?”

“Whatever
you’re having will be good, thanks,” I said, taking another long drink of
coffee. “So, what’s up with you today?”

“Well,
it’s Friday, and I have that photo shoot in Central Park this morning. I just
hope the day goes by fast. I have been nervous about today all week,” she said,
cracking an egg and dropping it into the burning hot skillet. I knew why she
was nervous; my brother was arriving today. Brody had become a doctor and had
just finished his residency at a hospital in Maine. He decided to move to New
York City to permanently live after accepting a position in the emergency
department at New York Presbyterian. He was going to stay with Marissa and me
until he found an apartment of his own. I was so proud of everything he’d
accomplished, and he just couldn’t get here fast enough. I’d missed him so
much.

“Aw,
come on, don’t be nervous. It’s just Brody,” I said. “I know it’s been a while
since we’ve seen him, but I’m sure he isn’t any different.” Marissa had been in
love with Brody since that first day we all had lunch together in high school,
but she was very good about keeping it to herself. As my best friend however, I
always knew it from that first day we all had lunch together. I was hoping, for
both their sakes, that when he sees her again he will open his eyes and see her
for the amazing, beautiful girl she has always been.

“I
know what you are saying Rory, but I can’t help it. It’s been over a year, and
I just hope I don’t do anything stupid.”

“You
won’t. I won’t let you,” I said, and she set a small plate of scrambled eggs
with cheese, bacon, and wheat toast in front of me. It smelled incredible, and
tasted even better. As I was taking my next to last bite, I glanced at the
clock on the wall. It was eight thirty seven, and I had to be at the salon by
nine. Jumping up, I said loudly, “Shit, I’m running late, I have to go!” I ran
and grabbed my purse, my cell phone, and my keys from the nail by the door. 

As
I was sliding on my jacket, Marissa called out, “Do you want to take my car? I
can just take a cab today.” Marissa drove a
super
bad-ass silver BMW,
and as tempting as that was, I would never make it to work on time with the
traffic.

“Nah,
I’ll take a cab. Thanks though. See you later!” I said. I gave her a hurried
wave, called out my goodbyes, and took off down the stairs. 

Luckily,
I was able to catch a cab, and pulled up outside Eclipse Salon, my home away
from home, with three minutes to spare. I ran inside, and was greeted by Samantha,
the receptionist. She was petite in size and stature. She couldn’t have been
more than five foot two, and had long blonde hair and bright blue eyes. She was
cute as a button and kept our office running smoothly. “Running late again,
Rory?”

“How
could you guess?” I asked, sarcastically, and hung my leather jacket by the
door.

“Okay,
well, your first client is not here yet, so you have time to catch your
breath.”

“Mrs.
Tanner is running late? Wow, that’s a first. Well, I’m going to go hang my bag
in the break room and start getting her color ready. Let me know when she gets
here, okay?” I asked as I walked through the shimmery beaded curtain that lead
into the main salon floor. She nodded her head in agreement, and at that moment
the phone rang. She reached to answer it, and as soon as I was on the floor I
was immediately greeted by a bevy of loud hellos. I said my greetings back to Nicole,
Emily, Fiona, and Brian, the four other stylists that work there with me. “Hi,
everyone, sorry I’m cutting it close this morning.”

Brian,
a slender, tan, well-groomed, and obviously incredibly gay man, said, “No
worries, sweetie, you’re right on time. How was your night last night?”

“Oh
you know me. I did something wild and crazy. I ordered Chinese food and watched
‘Family Guy’ reruns in my pajamas,” I said.

He
shook his head at me and sighed. “Oh good God, honey, you need to go out more.
I mean, go anywhere. A night club, a bar, or hell, a sweaty cage fight in an
abandoned warehouse, I don’t care. Anything is better than sitting at home all
the time. It should be a crime to have a smokin’ little body like yours and not
show it off.”

I
rolled my eyes at him, and said, “Gee, thanks, and I’ll keep my eye out for any
sweaty cage fights.”

“And
let me know if you do, honey, because I’m coming with,” said Brian.

“Well,
you should be happy to know that I am going out tonight with Marissa. We’re
picking Brody up from the airport and then after he drops his stuff off at the
loft we are all going out to celebrate.”

“Oh,
that’s right. I forgot your hot-as-hell doctor brother was moving to town. I
swear, you two have got sexiness pouring out of your genes,” Brian said. “You
should wear that black and silver beaded halter dress of yours.” Brian needed a
serious hobby if he remembered a dress I had worn one time eight months ago.

“Why
is that?”

“Because
that halter dips low in the back and shows off your legs. Your tattoos would
pop, and you’d look sick as hell in it.” I had a lot of tattoos, and even
though I was proud of them and didn’t care what people thought, I never wore
anything revealing enough to show them off. Only my arms were ever really
visible.

“Well,
thank you very much, but I think what I have on is fine,” I said, pulling at my
Ramones tee that fit snug in all the right places. It was short in the arms,
and the bottom was slightly higher than my waistband on my jeans, so my stomach
showed a bit there too.

Brian
playfully shook his head, and said, “Whatever, girl. Ugh, such a waste.” I sighed
and after setting my bag down in the break room, I went to the dispensary and
grabbed the color, developer, bowls and brushes I needed for my first client.
Mrs. Vivian Tanner was a very rich, very established, and very well connected
lady from Manhattan that I had met three years before. At that time, my hair
was still its usual shade of red, and I had lots of light brown and blonde
chunky highlights through it. I was stopping in at Starbucks to get a vanilla
latte when she stopped me and told me how beautiful my hair was. I thanked her,
and when she asked me where I got it done, I confidently told her I did it
myself. She was so impressed that she wanted my card, and promised to make an
appointment with me. She said anyone that can make their own hair look like
that would work miracles with hers. Since that day, she’s been coming to me
every six weeks like clockwork. And, every single time without fail, she tries
to set me up with her son. I tried to tell her I wasn’t interested in dating
anyone, but she never let up. I knew she meant well, but it was getting
frustrating.

I
mixed her color, and had just set the bowls at my station when Samantha
informed me that Mrs. Tanner was here. I walked into the lobby, and there she
sat in her Oscar de la Renta pants suit, Manolo Blanik heels, and holding her
Louis Vitton bag.  She stood when she saw me, flipped her shoulder length
blonde hair over her shoulder, and after placing her iPhone in her bag, held
her hands out to me. “Rory, dear, how lovely to see you again. You look
adorable today,” she said, warmly, and air kissed both my cheeks. Despite her
less than successful matchmaking skills, she was a great lady and I liked her a
lot.

“Thank
you so much. It’s great to see you too, Mrs. Tanner,” I replied, leading her
back through the curtain.

“Darling,
we’ve known each other three years. When are you going to finally start calling
me Vivian?”

“Eventually,
I promise,” I smiled, and led her to my chair. “So, what’s new with you?” I
asked, and wrapped a color cape around her neck. “You seem chipper today.”

“Well,
I’ve got exciting news. My son moved back to the city last month, can you
believe it?” she said, beaming.

Oh
boy, here we go
. “That’s great, I’m
happy for you. I know you have missed him,” I answered. Mrs. Tanner’s son was a
cop, and that very fact tore a huge rift in her family. Apparently her son and
her husband had a falling out several years back over his decision on where to
go to college and the fact that he wanted to be a cop and not a lawyer. He
hadn’t been home since, not for a holiday or birthday, nothing at all.

“I
really have missed him. You know,” she said in a sly tone, “he is going to be
living in Greenwich Village, where you live, and he really doesn’t know many
people there. Maybe you could show him around,” she said, winking at me in the
mirror.

Playfully
rolling my eyes, I looked at her and said, “Nice try, Mrs. Tanner. He was
raised in the city, I’m sure he knows his way around.” 

She
smiled warmly at me, saying, “You can’t blame me for trying. You are exactly
his type, and you two would look beautiful together.”  Yeah, sure we would. A
tattooed rocker-chick-looking hair stylist getting together with a blue-blooded
Ivy League frat boy that happened to carry a gun. And she was right; I really
couldn’t blame her for trying. She was a sweet lady, and I knew she meant well,
but her efforts were all for nothing. I made a promise to myself long ago that
the romantic part of my life was over. After what happened with Mason, I was
never, ever going to open myself up for that kind of pain again. I felt a tug
at my heart, and my mind started to wander somewhere else…somewhere I tried
desperately every day to stay away from. Thankfully, she interrupted wherever I
was headed mentally, and said, “Anyway, enough about me. What’s new with you? I
haven’t talked to you in a month and a half, tell me everything.”

Over
the next two hours coloring and cutting her hair, we talked about the mundane
details of my life, including Brody’s move to the city. She very coyly
suggested again that we should hang out together, this time in a group with
Brody. Just a group of young people enjoying a night out was her story this
time, but I had a sneaking suspicion that she was hell bent on making me her
daughter-in-law, no matter what.

Once
I was done drying her hair and styling it with a round brush, I spun her around
in the mirror so she could see the finished product. Her eyes lit up with joy.
“Oh, Rory, darling, you’ve done it again. You are just brilliant. It looks
gorgeous.”

“Well,
thanks, Mrs. Tanner. It was my pleasure.”

“You
are very, very welcome,” she said, and I handed her bag and jacket to her. She
stood up from the chair, and we walked to the reception desk so I could check
her out and set her next appointment. “So, what do I owe you?”

            I snickered
when she asked that, because it didn’t matter what I charged her. She always
paid the same thing, which was about ten times what the service cost.  I’m
pretty sure that if I saved all the money she’s paid me to do her hair for the
last three years, I could have bought an expensive penthouse in Manhattan. “For
the cut, color, and style, the total is two hundred ninety five dollars.” I
know that seems expensive, but it is expensive to live in NYC, and
unfortunately I didn’t set the prices of the salon. Brian did.

            “Okay, here
you go, Rory,” she said, and handed me a check she already made out. I folded
it, and placed it in my back pocket. There was no need to look at the amount. I
knew it was going to be way too much, I would try to refuse it and she would
insist I keep it, and it just wasn’t worth the argument.

“Thanks,
Mrs. Tanner. Would you like to set your next appointment?”

“Oh,
of course. Six weeks?”

“Yes,
and that would put us into June. Is the fourteenth at nine okay?”

“Sounds
perfect. Thank you so much, Rory. You did a beautiful job,” she said, and
hugged me. “I hope you and your roommate have fun with your brother tonight.”

“Thanks,
I can’t wait.”

“Where
are you all going?”

“We
thought about maybe going to Shadow later. They always have great bands playing
there.”

“That
sounds nice. Well, you have fun, be safe, and I’ll see you soon.” I hugged her
one more time, and I watched her walk out onto the busy New York streets.