Whoever that is.
“It’s a good thing your roots are showing then, because, sweetie, I don’t remember what your natural color was. I only remember how much fun I had dying your hair all those crazy colors.”
Jessie laughed, and Naomi joined in. Shehadchosen some crazy colors. Her color choice had stunned Robert a time or two. But no matter how wild her hair had been, he’d always said he loved it and that it fit her larger-than-life personality.
“Okay, dark brown it is. What’s your highlight color going to be?”
Jessie stuck a fingernail between her teeth. “I don’t think I’m going to do highlights this time.”
Patrick had always insisted on more and more highlights, until he’d gotten his way and she’d dyed it completely blond.
Naomi’s eyes met hers in the mirror. A deep V formed between her eyebrows for a moment. “Oh, I see, you’re going to do lowlights? Maybe a dark red, purple, or blue.”
Jessie hadn’t planned on doing anything other than dying her hair back to its natural color, but the idea of some dark red lowlights sounded cool. Her hair would look like something a mature, sensible woman would wear, but it would still be fun and flirty. Not that she had anyone to flirt with.
“Sure. Let’s go with a dark red.” She grinned and wiggled her eyebrows. “Or maybe a deep magenta.”
Naomi’s face split in a grin. “There’s my girl.”
Two and a half hours later, Jessie walked out of the salon, looking and feeling like a new woman. The time spent with Naomi and her daughter, Susy, the nail technician, had been a blast and bolstered her self-esteem. Now, if she could only get the sympathetic looks from all the other customers who recognized her out of her mind, then she could enjoy her new look.
“I’m starving.” her mother said as soon as they got in the car. “How about you?”
Jessie looked at the clock on the dash. Two o’clock. “I’m sorry I took so long.”
Sylvia’s trim had taken less than thirty minutes, but she insisted she didn’t mind waiting; it gave her a chance to read her book. Although she’d done as much visiting with the other women in the salon as Jessie did.
“You have nothing to apologize for, honey. I’m just glad I could share this experience with you again.” Her mom patted her hand.
“Me too.” Jessie tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Uh...Mom. Did you tell Naomi about me and what...Patrick did?”
Sylvia shifted to face Jessie. “Naomi is a good friend, and yes, I’ve talked about you to my friends, honey. That’s what women do when they get together.”
“Yougossip?”
Small towns were notorious for gossip—since everybody knew everyone else—and Providence was no exception. Jessie didn’t realize her mom was such a gossip, though.
“No.” Her mother’s voice was defensive. “We talk about our families. And when my friends asked about my daughters, I told them what was happening in your lives.”
“And they tell their friends, who then tell their friends.” Sarcasm filled Jessie’s voice.
How many times had Jessie been the subject of discussions here in Providence?
“Listen, honey. When we’re concerned about those we love, we talk about it. I’ve put your name on many prayer lists over the years.”
Jessie had no argument for that, except she didn’t think God had answered any of their prayers, since Patrick’s abuse had never lessened.
“So what if you get a few sympathetic looks? You hold your head high wherever you go because you are a survivor. Do you hear me? You are not a victim. You are a survivor.”
The vehemence in her mom’s voice brought tears to Jessie’s eyes. Her mom was right, and until Jessie started thinking of herself as a survivor, she would always be a victim.
I’m a survivor.
How many times would she have to repeat it before she believed it?
Chapter 19
Robert’s desk phone rang as he stepped out of his office. He debated ignoring it, since he was ready to call it a day.
