Nicholas Sparks - Safe Haven

“It is cold,” Katie agreed.

Rachel led her to a station near the corner. The chair was purple vinyl and the floor was black tile. A place for younger people, Katie thought. Singles who wanted to stand out. Not married women with blond hair. Katie fidgeted as Rachel put a smock over her. She wiggled her toes, trying to warm her feet.

“Are you new in the area?” Rachel asked.

“I live in Dorchester,” she said.

“That’s kind of out of the way. Did someone give you a referral?”

Katie had passed by the salon two weeks earlier, when Kevin had taken her shopping, but she didn’t say that. Instead, she simply shook her head.

“I guess I’m lucky I answered the phone then.” Rachel smiled. “What sort of color do you want?”

Katie hated to stare at herself in the mirror but she didn’t have a choice. She had to get this right. She had to. Tucked into the mirror in front of her was a photograph of Rachel with someone Katie assumed to be her boyfriend. He had more piercings than she did and he had a Mohawk. Beneath the smock, Katie squeezed her hands together.

“I want it to look natural, so maybe some lowlights for winter? And fix the roots, too, so they blend.”

Rachel nodded into the mirror. “Do you want it about the same color? Or darker or lighter? Not the lowlights, I mean.”

“About the same.”

“Foil okay?”

“Yes,” Katie answered.

“Easy as pie,” Rachel said. “Just give me a couple of minutes to get things ready and I’ll be back, okay?”

Katie nodded. Off to the side, she saw a woman leaning back at the sink, another stylist beside her. She could hear the water as it was turned on and the hum of conversation from the other stations. Music played faintly over the speakers.

Rachel returned with the foil and the color. Near the chair, she stirred the color, making sure the consistency was right.

“How long have you lived in Dorchester?”

“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.