Christmas lights framed every mirror, and Mariah had been screaming “All I Want For Christmas Is You” since the doors opened. We were booked solid. Blow dryers humming, flat irons sizzling, girls laughing loudly in the corner while Troi did one of his regulars, who swore she was Beyoncé in the face and Summer Walker in the waist. And me? I was holding it together. Barely.
“Alright, girl, turn your head to the left for me,” I said, combing through the thick bundles I was sewing in for one of my regular clients, Cammy. “I’m about to silk press this last piece and lay these baby hairs, then you’re free to be finer than necessary.”
Cammy smiled at her reflection. “Girl, I’m tryna shut Christmasdown. My baby daddy gon’ cry when he sees me.”
I grinned, even though my stomach was turning again. This damn nausea was playing with me, and my nerves felt stretched thin. Every time I bent down to grab a clip or tilted my head too fast, the dizziness crept in like a slow leak. I’d been chugging ginger ale and chewing ice like a woman possessed, trying to calm myself. And I was definitely sweating more than usual, anxiety prickling under my skin.
“Okayyyy, come through with the scalp massage,” Troi moaned from the booth next to mine as I pressed into Cammy’s edges. “Your hands are truly anointed, sis.”
“Hush,” I laughed, wiping my forehead discreetly before laying baby hairs to perfection. When I was done, I spun her around in the chair and pulled the cape off with a flourish. “Boom. Instagram-ready.”
“Ugh, I love you,” Cammy squealed, jumping up to hug me. “Merry Christmas, Autumn.”
“You too, babe.”
From across the salon, the shampoo girl, Tima, called out, “Cammy, don’t forget that bonnet this time, girl! You came in here three weeks ago lookin’ like you fought your lace in the parking lot.”
“Mind ya business!” Cammy shouted back, laughing as she headed to the front to pay. “This time, I got satin pillowcases!”
“Nowthat’sgrowth,” joked Lisa, one of the senior stylists, sliding past me with a tray full of color bowls. “If only some of y’all’s natural hair could grow.”
“I know you not talkin’ with that lil’ Christmas tree ponytail,” Troi snapped, flicking his wrist. “It’s givin’ Grinch who laid the tracks wrong.”
“Y’all better leave each other alone before Rhonda comes out of her office,” I warned, trying not to smile too hard.
Right on cue, the owner peeked her head from the back with her glasses perched low and one hand on her hip. “Why do I hear y’all mouths more than I hear the tools workin’? It’s Christmas Eve, not a catty reality show special.”
“We workin’, Ms. Rhonda!” Tima called out.
“You better be,” Rhonda said, her tone stern but playful. “Autumn, baby, you alright? You look a little flushed.”
“I’m good,” I said quickly, forcing a smile even though my heart was pounding. “Just a lotta heads today. You know how it is.”
Rhonda squinted at me for a second like she didn’t quite believe me, then nodded. “Mmmhmm. You make sure you sit down and sip some water if you need to. Y’all ain’t fallin out in my salon. Better yet, go eat somethin’.”
“Noted.”
The phone rang at the front desk and Kourtni, the young receptionist with the baby voice, picked it up while smacking gum. “Yes, we’re still takin’ walk-ins but the wait is like an hour, sis. Uh-huh. Okay, but I’m not gon’ lie to you… if you bald-headed and want waist-length bundles by two, this is probably not your day.”
We all burst out laughing.
“Girl!” Troi cried out. “You gon’ get us a bad Yelp review!”
Kourtni shrugged, hanging up the phone. “Yelp don’t pay my bills. Y’all know I’m tryna be an influencer and whatnot.”
I shook my head and leaned back in my chair. The laughter helped a little, momentarily warming the tight knot of stress inside me. The love in this place was real, even when they worked my nerves. And as wild as it got in here sometimes, this salon had seen me through a lot—especially on days like this, when I felt off balance. When my next appointment wrapped up, I decided it was finally time to steal a moment for myself.
After Cammy sent her usual tip to my phone, I slipped into the back room. I grabbed the leftover Cajun chicken pasta I’d made the night before and moved toward the microwave. Just then, Troi burst through the back door, Panera Bread swinging in his hands.
“Girl, you know I got that Pick Two!”
“Greedy ass.” I chuckled, taking my food out of the microwave. I grabbed a bottle of Lemonade from the fridge and made my way over to the table.
Troi sat across from me, eyes full of questions. “So when you gon’ tell me what’s really goin’ on? You been movin’ funny for days now. Not to mention, you never told me why your ass had your notifications on DNDallThanksgivin’ weekend.” He shot me a side eye.
“Bye, nosey.”
“I’m just sayin’, heffa. You almost flat-ironed your own damn finger this mornin’ and you been walkin’ around like you got a lot on your mind, bitch. What’s up?”
