The Friend (2 page)

Why did she continue to put herself through
this?

She had two choices. Keep planting seeds in the
hope that some would grow—or quit. When she presented herself with those
alternatives, Piper still found the answer inevitable. She had to keep going and
trust that eventually something would give.

While she walked to the Port Authority terminal,
Piper fought to shake off her frustration. As the biting wind whipped at her
face while she crossed Forty-Second Street, tears came to her eyes. Settling
into her seat on the bus headed back to New Jersey, Piper was comforted by the
thought of her parents and the home waiting for her in suburban Hillwood. Though
she sometimes felt uncomfortable about being twenty-seven years old and living
with her mother and father, this was one of those moments when she was reminded
of how consoling it was to have people who loved and bolstered her when things
weren’t going her way. Piper felt sorry for people who didn’t have that
support.

F
inishing her shift at the supermarket, Splendor took off her smock and
went over to the grocery store’s bakery section. She selected a box of cookies
from the half-price display, paid for them and then headed to the parking lot.
She trudged across the slushy macadam, got into her salt-caked blue Toyota and
turned the key in the ignition of the old car. While she waited for the heater
to kick on, Splendor opened her package and began to munch. The cookies were
slightly stale but they still tasted good.

She was trying to save money where she could.
Splendor knew she was going to have to budget carefully if she was to be more
like Piper Donovan. A dollar or two off here and there would add up. Whatever
the cost, she was going to find the funds to pursue her goal.

The Best Little Hair House was on Hillwood’s main
thoroughfare. As Splendor parked out front, she noticed Pompilio’s restaurant
across the street. She shivered involuntarily as she imagined Piper striding
into both establishments, happy and self assured. Splendor wanted to be like
that.

While she sat in the waiting area of the beauty
parlor, Splendor flipped through a few magazines, hoping to find a picture of
someone with a haircut and color like Piper’s. She found a few that were
similar, but not quite as good. Piper’s was perfect.

“Splendor?” A young, attractive woman stood in
front of Splendor, beckoning her to enter the rear of the salon. “I’m Kym. Come
on in.”

Splendor sat down in the styling chair and looked
in the mirror as Kym draped a giant nylon cape around her.

“What are we doing today?” asked Kym as she ran her
fingers through Splendor’s dark, tangled locks.

“I want to go lighter,” said Splendor. “And I want
a better cut.”

“Okay,” said Kym as she studied Splendor’s skin
tone. “I think going a shade or two lighter will brighten things up for you
nicely. It will give your face a lift.”

Splendor hesitated. “Actually, I wasn’t thinking of
just a
little
lighter. I want to be blond.
Really
blond.”

The hairstylist’s mouth turned down a bit. “All
right,” she said. “Let’s look at the color chart.”

Immediately, Splendor pointed to a platinum swatch.
“Here’s the one I want,” she said.

“Are you sure?” asked Kym. “That is going to be a
drastic
change. Sometimes, people like to go
lighter by degrees. Are you sure you don’t want to do this gradually?”

“I’m sure,” said Splendor.

Forty-five minutes later, after the color had been
applied and set and the residue shampooed away, Splendor was back in the styling
chair and ready for her haircut. She tried to describe exactly what she wanted.
The puzzled expression on Kym’s face made Splendor concerned that she wasn’t
making herself clear.

“I know someone else who gets her hair done here,”
said Splendor. “I like
her
hairstyle.”

“Who is it?” asked Kym.

“Piper Donovan. Can you cut my hair like hers?”

W
arm,
sweet air enveloped Piper when she walked through the door of the Icing on the
Cupcake bakery. She was relieved to see that, for a change, there were no
customers. Her mother was polishing a glass display case.

“How did it go?” asked Terri Donovan.

Piper shrugged her shoulders. “Ugh. Kill me
now.”

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry,” said Terri, putting down
the polishing cloth and walking around the counter. She gave her daughter a
long, firm hug.

“That’s all right,” said Piper, as their embrace
ended. “I’ll figure it out.”

“I know you will,” said Terri, adjusting the net
around her curly, blond-tinted hair. “Want something to eat?”

Piper scanned the bakery cases. “Have any of those
low-fat whole wheat blueberry muffins?” she asked.

“Yes,” said Terri, pointing in the direction of a
tray. “I’m glad you suggested that we start making those, but they haven’t
really caught on yet with the customers.”

Piper dug her phone from her pocket. “I’m going to
take a picture of them and put it up on our Facebook page.”

W
hen
she parked her car in front of the rundown ranch-style house, Splendor checked
her image in the rearview mirror. The stylist had succeeded in cutting and
blowing out her hair so that it looked almost like Piper’s. Splendor already
felt better, but she knew she still had a long way to go.

She glanced down guiltily at the container on the
passenger’s seat. There had been two dozen peanut butter cookies in that box
when she’d bought it just two days before. There were only three left now. If
she wanted to look like Piper, she had to slim down and tone up. She had to cut
out the sugar and fat. Splendor had made a vow to start dieting as soon as she
finished this box. She devoured the last cookies before she got out of the
car.

Her mother was lying in her faded nightgown on the
living room couch, smoking a cigarette and watching television. An open bag of
potato chips lay on the floor beside her, along with a couple of crushed soda
cans. She didn’t even glance up.

“Hi, Mom.”

Her mother grunted.

“Mom?”

“Wait, Splendor,” her mother hissed with annoyance.
“Can’t you see I’m watching something?”

“I just wanted to show you, Mom. I got my hair
done.”

Splendor’s mother turned to look at her daughter.
The frown on her face deepened and she shook her head in disgust.

“Who do you think you are, Splendor? You look
ridiculous with that glamorous hairstyle when the rest of you looks the way you
do. I should have never called you Splendor,” she yelled. “
Mess.
That would have been a better name.”

The heat rose in Splendor’s face. She turned and
ran down the hall to her room. Throwing herself on the unmade twin bed, she
began to cry. As much as her mother’s comments stung, it hurt more that her
mother made no attempt to follow her and smooth things over.

Listening to the sound of the television continuing
to blare in the living room, Splendor hugged her precious Aggie and felt
humiliated. She lay on her bed and stared at the cracked ceiling. Gradually, her
embarrassment turned to anger at herself. How stupid could she be? Why did she
persist in looking to her mother for approval? When was she going to learn that
her mother was never going to praise her? Sometimes, Splendor really felt that
her mother’s only pleasure was running her own daughter down.

Getting up off the bed, Splendor admired her
reflection in the little mirror over the dresser.
She
liked her new look. It didn’t matter what her mother thought. In the
past, her mother’s scorn and disparagement had made Splendor feel smaller. She
wasn’t going to give her mother that power anymore.

She wasn’t going to be deterred, either. She was
going to carry on with her plan.

Turning on her computer, Splendor googled Sunrise
Salutation Yoga Studio and looked at the class schedule. As she scanned the
website, she was excited to find that they had an introductory offer for
potential members. She could afford that.

Maybe she would see Piper there.

P
iper
loved her yoga class. The instructor led them through a routine of simple and
more challenging sequences while sharing interesting information about anatomy
as well as meditation and relaxation techniques. Beginners were always
welcome.

This morning, Piper noticed that there was someone
new in class. An overweight girl with a dark complexion and unruly blond hair
had laid down her mat at the far corner of the studio. Piper identified,
remembering when she had started practicing yoga. She had gravitated to the side
of the room as well, not wanting to call attention to herself. Now, Piper didn’t
care where she laid her mat. Most often she found herself right next to the
teacher at the front, in the only spot left, because she was the last one to
arrive—a minute or two before class began.

The teacher asked the new student her name.

“Splendor,” the young woman answered in a soft
voice.

“I’m sorry,” said the instructor. “I didn’t hear
you.”

“Splendor.” The voice was more forceful this
time.

“Welcome to our class, Splendor. Today, just do as
much as feels comfortable. Don’t push yourself. Some of the people here have
been coming for a long time. Don’t worry if you aren’t able to keep up or do
everything at first. This isn’t a competition.”

The instructor led the class through a series of
sun salutations, triangles, bends and lunges. She explained the muscles that
were being worked and gave tips for positions to try for sore backs and necks.
The teacher made a special effort to help the new student, encouraging her and
gently correcting her posture when necessary.

At the end of the class, the students got into
corpse pose, lying flat on their backs with their hands out slightly from their
sides and their feet splayed apart. Piper loved this part of the class.
Meditation and relaxation.