The telephone rang from the living room. She picked up, and an out of breath Meg was on the other line.
“Hi, Darla! I’m so sorry to bother you so early. Do you think you could come take a shift at the library today?”
Darla bit her lip. She was still sore from the previous night’s five-mile hike. Meg was probably in worse shape since she was significantly older.
“Hi Meg, I can later today. I need to run some errands first thing this morning. I hope you can understand, and I will see you later.” She hung up before Meg could respond.
The more days that passed, and the more people who were aware of her situation, allowed for a greater risk of danger. The driver wasn’t the only threat she needed to worry about.
Now there was Charles and Dylan to both worry about as well. She kept walking through all the steps needed to make it to the bank as she descended to the first floor.
Steve was in the hallway working on a light fixture. His tools were strewn about on the floor around him.
“Good morning,” she offered first. It would be better to not avoid him and make things more awkward between them. He smiled and tipped his hat at her as she rushed past him and towards her car.
Driving became an easy task in a short amount of time for Darla, although she took it slow to be safe. She found a pull-in parking spot right by the hairdresser. She took a deep breath. Her plan was in motion, and she was sure she was being followed.
An unknown black sedan had begun following her shortly after she left her apartment. They drove past and pulled into a spot a few cars down. She watched carefully, standing by her car as Charles emerged from the back. They made eye contact, and she simply nodded her head at him and then turned to go to the hairdresser.
A bell dinged overhead as she pushed the frosted glass door open. The salon had barely opened for the day and was already bustling. She exhaled once she was through the door. She didn’t want him to know she was rattled by his appearance.
Get it together, Darla.
Several women were under hair dryers, attempting to make conversation over the whirring sound. A lady with foils in her hair sat quietly reading a book in a salon chair. A few haircuts were wrapping up and some were just starting.
“Hi Darla, may I help you? Weren’t you here last week for a trim?” A woman approached her wearing a stained apron, years of colorings earmarked a legacy of work for her. Her name tag readPeggy. She was in her forties and had perfectly styled hair. For a woman who was working full time, she exuded a familiar attitude of higher class.
“Hi, Peggy. Yes, I am not sure if you heard what happened in the park a couple of days ago … ” Darla waited to see if Peggy knew what she was referring to before continuing.
“Yes, I heard all about it. It was all anyone could talk about yesterday. I am so thankful you came out of that unscathed!” Peggy placed her hand on her heart.
“I am thankful, too. As you can imagine, I am still pretty shaken up by all of it and felt that a day of pampering and shopping might be the distraction I need. Plus, as you can see, my hair is in desperate need of attention.” Darla smiled, attempting to keep it light and airy and to avoid the theatrics of tears shed.
“Well, you are in luck. My morning client just called and canceled. Her husband took a tumble, and she is taking him to the doctor this morning.” Peggy turned to the receptionist. “Kia, can you please fill my morning slot with Darla? She needs some pampering.” Peggy turned and gave Darla a quick wink on the last statement before fully turning and walking to her station.
Darla followed and sat in the seat. This was her first time experiencing a female haircut on this level. She used to cut it herself, or sometimes her mother would.
Peggy began pulling out all the pins carefully that were holding Darla’s hair in place. The hair fell in small tufts until the final pin was removed and her hair rested gently against her back.
“I keep telling you, Darla, we need to cut it if you want to keep up with the current styles. Those women in Hollywood know how to pull off the most gorgeous pulled back curled styles, but with your length, the best we can do is pin it out of your face and curl it down the back.” Peggy ran her fingers into the thick locks, debating how it should be styled.
“Okay. Let’s do it. I want you to cut it.” Darla spoke to Peggy’s reflection in the mirror and watched as Peggy stopped and immediately gripped Darla’s shoulders. Excitement spread across Peggy’s face as she gave Darla’s shoulders a squeeze.
“Are you serious? I have been begging you for months to let me cut it. You have a face like one of those starlets I see in the theater. I’m going to make you look fabulous! Now, follow me. We need to get you a good shampoo and condition going.”
As the hair treatment began, Darla leafed through a magazine from the waiting area. A nagging feeling pulled on her from the inside. She was the rightful inheritor of the VanHugh fortune. She had worked hard for many years, and she was the one who had built the fortune to what it was.
Her thoughts pondered different reasons why she would feel so threatened to go in and claim it proudly. Her gift allowed her to access unbelievable wealth, and she had worked hard for it.
She flipped to a new page in the magazine and it landed on a black and white photo of a woman about her age and her insides twinged with the familiar feeling of jealousy. When she looked up at her reflection in the mirror, it hit her like lightning during a rainstorm.
Why am I so jealous? I am pretty, if not prettier than this young actress. Maybe I could make something of myself out West like these young starlets.
A tingle ran down the length of her spine and she knew right then this is what she was destined for.
I’m going to go West and become an actress.
By the time Peggy had finished her hair style her mind was fully made up. Darla was satisfied with how it turned out, and she had all but abandoned her original plan. Now she was going to pay with a check and go straight to the bank.
