His tone surprised me. What could be worse than… “Oh.” Emory saw something on a personal level he hadn’t wanted to see; it obviously shook him.
“Yeah,” he replied. “I, um… we appeared to be very happy in the vision.” It was said in a voice so grave that you would’ve thought he just announced the end of the world was near.
“You don’t want to be happy, Emory?” I asked.
“I don’t deserve to be happy, Josh, and that’s my problem. I just can’t. Not after what happened…” Emory’s words broke off, but I knew what he was going to say. He didn’t think he deserved to be happy after his husband died. I couldn’t possibly begin to understand the depths of his despair, as I’d never experienced something so tragic in my life. I asked the man upstairs for forgiveness for being selfish, but I hoped never to know how that felt.
“You don’t think River would want you to be happy?” I asked him. I loved Gabe with every fiber of my being, and the thought of him with someone else killed me, but only if I were alive. If my time to go to the big salon in the sky came first, then I’d want him to be happy. To me, Gabe not loving seemed so much worse than him loving someone else.
Emory flinched as if I hit him when I said his husband’s name. “I forgot you researched me,” he said softly. “Josh, I can’t… say or hear his name. If not for me, he wouldn’t be dead. I don’t have the right to go out and be happy after what I did.”
Of course, I wanted to know what happened and why he felt that way, but I’d never ask him. That’s a level of nosiness that would be unforgivable. Instead, I reached across the table and covered both his hands. “Whenever you want to talk, I promise to be here—well, unless your visions tell you differently,” I added wryly. “Until then, why don’t you tell me what you had planned to do with your hair today. I’ll get my stuff and do it here instead.”
“You don’t have to do that, Josh. I can reschedule,” he said.
“Honey, your roots will be grown out hideously by the time you get in again. It was a miracle you got in when you did. My skills are in high demand,” I said confidently, but never arrogantly. “I’ve got the time and skill; you have the peace and quiet.”
His lips quirked up in the first bit of humor I’d seen since I arrived. “Okay,” he finally said after a long pause. “Thank you.”
I rose to my feet with the intention of running to the salon and back, but then I had a better idea. I narrowed my eyes at Emory suspiciously.How did I know he wouldn’t lock me out once I left?Instead of leaving, I called Chaz and asked him to bring the things I needed to me. He had always been a thoughtful, sensitive person and did what I asked without hesitation because he knew something was up.
“Do you need me to reschedule your next appointment?” he asked wide-eyed.
“No, I’ll be back in time. Thank you, though.” I could search the world over and never find better friends to share my life.
I faced Emory once more with a smile. “Color and trim?” I asked.
His eyes lost focus, and he was quiet for so long that he appeared to be in a trance. I was starting to wonder if he had another vision, but he blinked a few times then focused on me. “I want a haircut, not a trim.”
“Like a few inches or…”
“Short,” he replied. “I want something new.” It was such a drastic change; I had to be sure. “I’m positive,” he told me before I could voice my concern.
“I told you to quit reading my mind, Emory. It’s just fucking rude.” My prim tone was at odds with my crude language, and it caused Emory to laugh loudly. I was happy that it sounded less rusty than it had that day I ran into him during my jog. I considered it progress.
“You search for hairstyles you like on your phone while I whip up magic potions in my bowls,” I said while I unpacked the bag Chaz brought to me. “It’ll help me know where best to place your highlights.”
“I want something chunkier this time,” he said, searching on his phone. “It doesn’t need to look natural. In fact, I want it to be more obvious.”
“Damn, you sound like one of the dramatic before and after advertisements,” I said jokingly. “If that’s what you want, Emory, then that’s what I’m going to do.” I couldn’t help but feel that his reason had something to do with his vision and reaction to Jonathon Silver rather than wanting a change.
“It’s what I want,” he said, that time with more conviction.
“Then that’s what you shall have, Emory.”
A little over an hour later, I stared down at someone I hardly recognized. Even when I was suspicious of Emory, I thought he was an attractive man, but after his haircut, I could see the beautiful bone structure of his face. His eyes looked bigger and greener, his lips seemed fuller as they smiled broadly at his reflection in his bathroom mirror.
“Holy fuck!” he exclaimed. “I look so different with short hair.” It wasn’t quite the Bieber look I had mentally threatened him with when I first met him, but it was pretty damn close.
“Do you like it?” I asked. I could tell from his reaction that he did, and despite the impression I gave to some, I wasn’t some damn glory hog. I was proud of my talent, sure, but I wanted to make others feel good.
“I love it, Josh. It’s just the change I needed too.” He ran his fingers through the long bangs that cut across his forehead. He’d picked an asymmetrical cut that worked wonders for his bone structure. “There won’t be any hair for him to fist,” he muttered under his breath. His eyes widened when he realized what he spoke out loud. “Um…”
“You don’t have to say anything else,” I told him. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear it.” I left him alone in his bathroom and went to the kitchen to start packing up my supplies.
Emory returned to the kitchen and headed into his pantry. He returned with a broom and pink cheeks. “I saw something that I am not prepared for now, probably never if I’m honest. I just thought maybe this,” he gestured to his hair, “might change the course of things.”
I knew next to nothing about psychic abilities or how the universe worked. I had a feeling if Emory was destined to end up in Jonathon Silver’s arms, it would happen whether his hair was long, short, or non-existent.
