“At Gryphon, not you.”
Her brow creased with confusion. “Then why didn’t you speak to me again?”
“You dumped my brother a week later. It broke his heart.”
“Sean dumpedme.”
“What?” I felt winded, like someone had punched me in the gut. He’d been so upset and closed off over the whole thing. I’d always assumed she initiated the break-up. It stunned me to discover otherwise. “He was so happy with you. Why did he do that?”
“He refused to explain.”
“I’m sorry, Tonda. I don’t understand what happened.” I reached onto the shelf of chocolate, grabbed a bag of mini-chips, and tossed it into my cart. “This makes no sense.”
“I’m sorry, too.” She stepped closer and gave me a hug. When she pulled away, her eyes were wet.
My safe subject had led us into a conversation full of landmines. And now tears? Nope. I had to leave. Fast. “Thanks for stopping to talk. Bye, Tonda.” I pushed my cart around her, down the aisle, and into a checkout line. Whatever else I needed would have to wait.
I made it home with my calm restored. Unfortunately, between the heat of the day and that weird conversation with Tonda, I was well on my way to a stinky sweat.
After a shower, I stumbled over to the bathroom vanity and stared intently in the mirror, something I hadn’t done in a while. Grief hadn’t added creases or made me gaunt. I looked the same.
Maybe I didn’t want to.
I frowned at my freshly shampooed hair, wondering what to do with it. Blow-drying took forever. My default style was a high ponytail. I didn’t feel like one today.
I pulled it over my shoulder in one twisty, wet rope. It was a pain to care for.
Would shorter be better? Should I cut it?
I’d been warned often against making any drastic changes this year, but I was thinking this idea through. Did that take away the cliché?
Easier care wasn’t the only good reason. If I cut it correctly, there were others who would benefit. Strolling into my room, I opened my iPad and browsed forhair donation. Pantene requested that the length be at least eight inches. That would still leave plenty for me.
My parents and brother had always liked my long hair. Gryphon had too. But did I? Any time I’d thought about chopping it off, I’d ignored the urge as unimportant. It was less risky to please everyone else than to make a change and discover I didn’t like it.
Walking back to the bathroom, I bound my hair at the eight-inch mark, picked up a pair of scissors, and hacked off the ponytail. My hair slithered back around my head raggedly, a bit longer than shoulder-length.
Wow. Cleaned up, that would be cute, and I loved how cool it felt against my neck.
I wandered out to the patio and called Grant.
He appeared and then stilled, eyes widening. “You look quite different.”
“I know. Are you ready for my wish?”
“Yes, and I sincerely hope it will involve your hair.”
“You’re going to smooth it out.”
He circled me, taking in the entirety of the damage. “How long has it been since you’ve had it this short?”
“Ten years.”
“I shall not ask why you chose this today.” His tone reeked of disapproval.
“It wasn’t impulsive. I thought through all the angles. I’m donating the ponytail.”
“It is unwise to make such a decision while you are in mourning.”
