“Good, you’re back.” Mom’s clipped version of a greeting didn’t surprise me. I’d lived with them my entire life.

“Glad you missed me.” I leaned a hand on the cold counter top.

“Very funny. How did your shopping go?”

“I found one.” I held up the worn box.

“That looks ancient.”

“It probably is ancient.” I headed for the basement stairs.

“Where are you going?” she called after me.

“Downstairs.”

“But we don’t have time for that.”

“Why not?” I hesitated with my hand on the doorknob. “What else would I need to do?”

“I called the salon. Connie squeezed you in.”

“I don’t need a haircut.” I tugged on the end of my ponytail.

“You do, and it’s my treat.” She tapped her foot. Never a good sign with my mom. “Why don’t you get changed, and we can stop for coffee on the way over.”

“Why would I need to get changed?” I looked down at my jeans and t-shirt.

“Really, Cassidy?” She narrowed her eyes.

“This is comfortable. I’m getting a haircut not going on an interview. It’s fine.”

“Whatever you say.” She forced a smile. Now I knew I was in trouble.

“Fine. I’ll change.” If I was going to be living with her for a few weeks, I needed to at least try to avoid a fight.

“We’re leaving in ten minutes.”

“Fantastic.” I opened the basement door and headed downstairs.

I settled down on the bed with the small boom box. I had it out of the packaging in seconds, but the batteries were another story. I struggled with the plastic packaging before finally getting the C batteries out. I should have asked Leo to do it. I laughed picturing his expression if I’d asked him to load the batteries for me.

Satisfied the batteries were indeed in the right direction, I inserted the tape and pressed play.

I heard a faint screeching noise, and then the stop button popped up. I pushed down on play again, and the stop button popped up again.

I opened the tape deck and found a tangled mess of tape. “Damn it.” I pulled it out, snagging an end of the tape in the process. I turned the wheels to get the tape in place again, but there was definitely a groove where I’d snagged the tape.

“Cassidy?” Mom called down the stairs. “It’s been ten minutes.”

“Can’t I skip it?”

“Connie is doing me a favor fitting you in.”

I sighed and set the broken tape on the bed. “I’m coming.” I walked upstairs.

Mom was waiting in the hallway. “You never changed.”

I looked down at my jeans and t-shirt. “I forgot.”

“Nothing we can do about it now. We need to go.” She turned and headed to the garage door.

Great. Now I’d have to spend the car ride with my mom in a huff. Whatever. I’d get through it, and then I’d come home and fix the tape.

“What were you doing downstairs?” Mom backed out of the garage.

I held my breath as she narrowly missed hitting my car. “I was trying to play the tape.”

“Oh. How was that?”

“The tape wouldn’t play and got tangled. It snagged.”

“What tape is it? We can probably order the CD.”

“It’s not that kind of tape.” I leaned back against the cool leather seat.

“Then what is it?”

“Just something I made a long time ago.”

“That you made? I wasn’t aware that you made music. That’s always been Nile’s thing.”

“Yes, I’m aware I have no musical talent.”

“That’s not what I meant.” She waited at a stop sign for a woman to cross the street with her tiny black dog. The thing was smaller than Fluffy.

“Then what do you mean?”

“Let’s change the subject.”

“Great.” I rested my head against the seat.

“Did you hear from Steve?”

“No.” Is that what she considered a good subject change? “I didn’t expect to.”

“What did you do or say to him?”

“What did I do?” I put a hand to my chest. “I did nothing. We broke up. We belonged with different people.”

“Who do you belong with?”

“I don’t know yet.” And at the moment I didn’t care.

“Then who does he belong with?”

“Someone he’s been in love with for years.” I turned away and looked out the window. It wasn’t my mom’s fault I’d stayed with a guy I had absolutely no chemistry with.

“Oh, honey.” She put a hand on my leg. “It’s not your fault.”

“I realize that.” My annoyance at the conversation had turned to anger. “No need to explain that to me.”

“A haircut is exactly what you need.”

“Yes, because good hair fixes everything.”

“It may not fix things, but it can make you feel better about yourself.”

“I don’t need to feel better about myself.” I tried to take her words as well-meaning, but they stung of an insult.

She glanced over. “Yes, you do.”

“Mom. Please.”

“Please, what? I’m trying to have a conversation with you.”

“I’m fine. I need a few weeks to get back on my feet, and then I’ll be out of your hair.” I was starting to regret my decision to come home. I had some money in the bank, technically I could get a new apartment.

“I don’t mind that you’re home, but I’m worried.”

“There is absolutely nothing to worry about.”

“You canceled your wedding and quit your job. There is plenty for me to worry about.”

I gazed out the window again. We were getting closer to the salon.

“You can’t avoid talking about it forever.”

“Not forever. Hey, maybe the new haircut will work. I’ll be in a wonderful mood, and we can discuss everything over cocktails tonight.”

“Cassidy…” Her tone was all I needed to hear.

“Sorry, Mom. How are you? I’ve been so self-absorbed I haven’t asked you about you yet.”

“That’s understandable. And I’m fine. Thanks for asking.”

“Great.”

“I love you.” Her words startled me. She wasn’t the type to use those words out of the blue—even with her children.

“I love you too.”

She patted my leg. “You’ll make it through this.”

“I know I will.”

“Good.” She pulled into the newly updated strip mall.

“When did they redo this one?”

“Over a year ago.”

“Oh. I guess I haven’t been here in a while.”

“You haven’t been home in a long time.”

“I am now.”

“You are.” She parked.

I unbuckled and met her on her side of the car. We walked across the newly paved parking lot to the entrance of the salon.

“Hello, Maureen.” The receptionist greeted my mom by name. She wasn’t the same one from when I used to go here, so she only smiled at me.

“Hi, Jeanie. This is my daughter Cassidy.”

“Great. Why don’t you go back and get your hair washed. Connie will be ready for you soon.”

“Thanks.” I weaved my way back to the sink area.

“Cassidy?” Someone called my name.

I glanced around for the source of the male voice.

“Hey. It’s been forever.” A guy dressed in the all black uniform of the salon walked over and hugged me.

I awkwardly stepped back and looked at him. “Oh, wow. Hi.” I struggled for words.

“You remember me, right? I mean we did work on that AP Economics project together.”

“Of course I remember you.” I definitely remembered Brent, the nerdy kid who was in half of my classes during high school, but I couldn’t wrap my head around why he was washing hair at a salon.

“It’s so good to see you. Are you back in town?”

“Temporarily.” Definitely temporarily. Long Island was a great place to grow up, but I wasn’t moving back.

“Cool. So how are you? I kind figured you’d be married and saving the world by now.”

“Yeah, not exactly.” The saving the world part was way off, but I had been pretty close to getting married. Not happening anymore though.

“Cool. Well, take a seat.” He gestured to one of the chairs.

“Oh. Sure.” I awkwardly slipped into the chair and lay my head back. I hated this part of a haircut. The sink was always hard and uncomfortable.

He turned on the water. “Is that too hot?”

“No, it’s fine.” Awkward took on new meaning as Brent started washing my hair.

“You’ve got some grays.”

“Yeah, I know.” I kept my eyes squeezed shut.

“Most girls dye those.”

“Yup.”

“But not you?”

“No, it’s not worth the time or money.” Especially not for the amount I had.

“It’s cool you haven’t changed that much.”

“What do you mean?” Was he implying I never put in the time or money to look good?

“You don’t care what anyone thinks.”

“I try not to.” I closed my eyes tighter and tried to pretend it wasn’t a guy I knew from high school washing my hair.

“All done.”

I sat up while Brent tied a towel around my head. “Thank you.” This was where I’d normally hand him a tip. I hesitated, would that be even weirder? Stiffing him would be worse. I fished out four singles from my purse and held them out. “Thanks so much.”

He shook his head. “No thanks. How about we grab some coffee sometime instead? Are you staying at your parents’ house?”

Oh dear god. “Yeah, I am.”

“Do you have the same cell number from high school? I probably have it in my phone.”

“Cassidy, honey!” Connie, the stylist who had been cutting my hair since the age of twelve, walked over. “All ready.”

“I’ll call you tonight,” Brent called after us.

I took a seat in the black chair that Connie’s clients always used.

“Brent, huh? Not the worst choice.”

“Oh, no. No. It’s nothing like that.” I could feel blood rushing to my face. “I don’t know why he’s even saying that.”

She pumped up my chair so I sat higher. “He’s still looking at you.”

“Ugh.”

She laughed. “Maybe it will help take your mind off things.”

“I have nothing to keep my mind off of.”

Connie combed out my damp hair. “Your mom already told me.”

“Of course she did.” I wasn’t surprised my mom had shared that information without talking to me first, but it still annoyed me. I wasn’t in the mood to be questioned about it.

“She means well. You know that.”

“I do know that, but really I’m fine.”

“What you need is a good rebound. Brent wouldn’t be the worst, but I have some other ideas.” She used the side of her hand to brush back her purple streaked hair. She still looked thirty even though she was at least ten years past that now.

“Oh, no thanks. I’m really excited to be single for a while.”

“No, you aren’t.” She gave me a knowing look in the mirror.

“How would you know?”

“Because women always say that after a break up, but they don’t mean it. Sure, maybe you don’t want a committed relationship, but you want some action.”

And the awkwardness continued. Discussing getting action with my childhood hairdresser hadn’t been on my to-do list. “I’m really doing fine.”

“When you are done with the denial let me know.”

“I only called off the engagement yesterday.”

She covered me with a cloth. “All right, take some time.”

“I will.”

“So what are we doing for you today?” She quickly changed subjects.

“Just a trim.”

“Really? How about we add in some layers? Give you some movement.” She picked up my apparently unmoving hair.

“Sure. Whatever you think would look best.”

“Have you considered coloring your hair at all?”

“Why? I already have natural highlights.”

“By natural highlights do you mean gray hairs?” She cut the ends of my hair.

“They look like blonde pieces.”

Connie chuckled. “Were you always such an optimist?”

“What?” I forced myself to stay still so she could cut evenly. “It’s not that bad.”

“No, it’s not.” She paused.

“But what? I know there is a ‘but’ coming.” You could always tell when someone was going to add in a frustrating aside.

“You’re back on the dating market. Some clever highlights could help give you a younger look.”

“I’m twenty-seven. I’m not old.”

“Of course you aren’t old, but every little bit helps.”

“I’m not interested in a guy who wouldn’t want me because of gray hair. That’s ridiculous.”

“It might not even be conscious, but biologically a lot of men want younger women.”

“Then I’ll spend my life alone. That’s fine.” I held onto the arm rests of the chair.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“So, how about them Yankees?” I was desperate to change the conversation.

“I’m a Met’s fan.”

“Ok. How about the Mets?”

She laughed. “Anything to avoid the topic?”

“I’m still recovering from my mom’s ambush.”

“She loves you.” Connie trimmed some hair.

“I know that.”

“So give her a break.” She clipped some hair on the top of my head while she cut some more.

“I’m trying. I’m here.”

“You needed a haircut.” She took down the first section of hair and pinned up another.

“Evidently I did. I keep hearing that.”

“So what are your plans?”

“While I’m here or for the rest of my life?”

“Let’s start with while you’re here.”

“Get my bearings. Apply for some jobs. Sort through old stuff.”

“Sounds like you’ll be busy.” She repeated the clipping process with more hair.

I wrinkled my nose. I had an itch but my hands were buried under the cloth. “I’m hoping I won’t be here too long.”

“Good luck with that.” She continued cutting my hair. I looked in the mirror and watched her work. I’d have never been good at cutting hair. I didn’t have the patience to get it right.

“What do you think of the length?” Connie smiled broadly.

“Perfect.” It looked fine to me.

“All right, let me blow it out and you’ll be all set.”

“Thanks.”

I zoned out while she dried my hair. Usually I used every second of down time to stress about work. I didn’t have to do that anymore. I should have enjoyed the feeling, but it left me more frustrated.

Once Connie finished I handed her a tip. “Thanks. Love it.”

“Great.” She hugged me. “It’s going to get better.”

“I know.” I smiled.

“If you want dating recs, just ask.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” I turned and walked up to the front desk to meet my mom.

“Do you feel better?” Mom stood from her seat by the window.

“Ah, yeah. Sure.”

“I already paid.” She set down a magazine and headed toward the door.

“Thanks.”

“How about we get that coffee we skipped on the way over?”

“Sure. Why not?” There were a lot of things I’d pass on in life, but caffeine wasn’t one of them.