Every Shattered Thing (Come Alive) (12 page)

“I’m sorry. This story just gets me every time. I mean, it’s why I decided to get the tattoo, so I would have a reason to tell my story—
her
story—so people would know. It never loses its ability to break my heart when I think of this young girl, completely taken out of her family and stripped of any hope for a future, staring at these monsters just waiting to have their piece of her. What kind of men do these things? What kind of girls are able to live through it and still hope?”

“Those who have fight left in them.”

“What?”

“The girls who are able to live through the hell and still have hope? They are the ones with the fight left in them. They are the ones who don’t give up.”

Ashlee stops cutting for a split second and moves back to look me in the eye. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.” She takes a deep breath and grabs another section of my hair. “That's why I have this tattoo though. It’s so I never forget, and I always see those stuck in horrible situations as beautiful and not tainted by those who are stripping away their dignity.”

I sit there silent, lost in my own thoughts of trying to convince myself there’s still a shred of dignity left in me—that I still have a bit of fight left in my soul despite its constant rejection of worth. I think of Emma, and her constant belief in me, and I wonder what it would be like to believe in myself.

What it would mean to actually know what it was I was supposed to do in the next moment, the next week, the next year. I feel the tears forming and before they can fall I press the sides of my fingers against my eyes.

“Damn allergies.” I whisper.

Ashlee mutters an agreement and continues to cut in silence.

Chapter Ten

She’s done with my hair in less than an hour. I stare at the mirror and at first, I don’t recognize myself. What use to be long, mangy strands of hair hanging limp now sit on my shoulder in soft layers.

The back is slightly shorter, with highlights accentuating what I
thought
was an ugly brown. I bite back a smile. I actually
like
my hair. I can’t help doing a little hair toss and Ashlee laughs.

“There ya go, girl. I knew there was confidence hiding somewhere inside that head of yours...”

She teases my hair a little more before spritzing me with the final set of hair spray. “You’re good to go, beautiful. I’ll throw in some of these products for free today.” She stops and turns my chair to face her,

“Oh, and...you look absolutely stunning.” She turns to Emma and motions for her to join us. “I’m done with your girl, Em. Come take a look.”

Emma walks into the room and freezes when she sees me. “Holy shit! You look
incredible
!” She reaches out to play with my hair and turns me around so she can see the entire cut. I try to keep from blushing and avoid her gaze. She’s so emotive she’s probably already crying.

“Thanks.” I smile as she squeezes my hand.

“How much do I owe you, Ashlee?” Emma asks as she pulls out her wallet.

Ashlee turns to Emma and smiles, “You know what? You don’t owe me anything.”

She places her hand on Emma’s arm and catches my surprised stare out of the corner of her eye.

Emma closes her wallet. “Are you sure? I mean, you’ve done so much already, giving us free product and staying late...”

Ashlee looks at her and shrugs her shoulders, “What can I say, Emma?” She lowers her voice and I barely hear what she’s saying. “You can never have too much love, Em—and I have a feeling she doesn’t even know what that means.”

Emma smiles and nods her consent, placing her wallet back in her purse. Leaning forward she wraps Ashlee in a hug and whispers a quiet “thank you” before turning to me.

“You ready?” I see her brush her cheek with the back of her hand.

“Yeah. I’m ready.”

Taking a last glance in the mirror, I turn and smile at Ashlee. Getting off my chair, I walk over to her and give her second hug. I hear Emma’s sharp intake of breath and chuckle inwardly at her surprise. I don’t initiate physical displays of affection. Like ever.

“Thank you—for everything,” I say quietly.

Ashlee squeezes back and whispers in my ear, “Absolutely. If you ever need anything, let me know.” Pulling away from the embrace, she reaches over to her counter and grabs a card. “Call me...anytime. I mean it.”

I take her card and nod. “Got it.”

I can hear Emma talking on her phone and she calls me from across the room, “We should

probably get going. It’s already 8:30. We have an appointment about two minutes ago for your make-up.”

I gather my stuff and walk out the door with Emma, my mind still reeling
Maybe there’s hope,
I think, making no attempt to filter my thoughts.
Maybe someone will hear about my story and rescue me...

Emma looks at me as we walk down the sidewalk. “So what did you think of Ashlee?”

I pause, allowing my thoughts to simmer before answering.

“She’s pretty cool. How’d you find her?”

Emma is quiet, then answers. “She’s a childhood friend.”

I glance at her, waiting for more of the story. Realizing that she’s not going to give me any more information, my curiosity is piqued.

“Have you ever seen her tattoo? Has she told you the story behind it?”

Emma smiles. “Yeah. Originally we planned on getting the same one, but I chickened out.”

I look at her. “You? Chickened out from a tattoo? Shocking.”

She keeps walking, accepting my sarcasm.

“Wait. So you know about those organizations? The ones about trafficking?”

Emma nods, avoiding my gaze. “Yeah. I know a little.”

We walk for a few more minutes before she motions to a shop on my right—I see the trendy models on huge posters in the windows and look at Emma.

“Emma. Are you sure you want us to go in here?”

She lifts her finger and shakes her head in her I’m-not-going-to-fight-with-you-about-this way and I shut up. I walk in the door and instantly the smell of citrus and self-tanning lotion assault my senses.

I breathe, as much as I possibly can without ingesting chemicals, and find myself lost. I pick up a package with blue blush inside and turn toward Emma, wrinkling my nose.

“Really? Blue? Is this for like, Halloween or something?” I see Emma’s eyes widen just enough for me to notice before I hear someone else joining our conversation.

“Or something.”

I turn around to greet the person interrupting when I notice the posh clothes and the name tag.

The woman I am staring at is no shorter than six feet and is one of the most beautiful humans I have ever seen. Her face is absolutely flawless. I smile and offer my hand after I sheepishly place the blue make-up back on the counter.

“Hi. I’m Stephanie.”

“Yes. You have an appointment, no? My name is Eva. Follow me. You will be working with

Nicole this evening. She is waiting.” Her words are short —void of any emotion.

I glance at Emma out of the corner of my eye and make a face revealing my discomfort before she pushes me away to join Eva the Ice Queen.

“Thank you so much for waiting, Eva.” Emma is delicate. “I believe Nicole knows the package I signed up for.”

Eva glances at Emma and nods. “Of course. Nicole is aware. You may wait here while Stephanie receives her makeover. Unless of course, you would like a makeover as well?”

Emma shakes her head, “Oh, no thank you, Eva. I’m a new mom. Probably couldn’t keep up with all the time it takes for toner and base and what-not, let alone blush and tanner. Oh and the eye shadow just isn’t...”

I shake my head slightly at Emma.

She clears her throat. “Anyway. Thanks for the offer. I’ll just wait.”

Eva regards her cooly before raising an eyebrow and letting out a sigh. “Very well. You shall wait here then.”

Does she even know how to smile?

Eva turns walks toward the back of the store and I watch her for a second before I realize she wants me to follow her. I sneak a glance at Emma.

“Save me!” I mouth. She just smiles and motions for me to keep walking. I sigh and turn around to find Eva already halfway down the hall. Almost tripping on my shoelaces in my haste to catch up, I wonder why Eva is responsible for greeting customers and hope that my make-up artist has a bit more...
warmth
than this woman in charge of hospitality.

“This is your room. Nicole will be with you shortly.”

I muster up a smile and play with the hem of my shirt. “Thanks, Eva.”

“Yes.” And with that, she walks away, her heels clicking on the tile floor. I scrunch my eyebrows in confusion as I look around and am startled by another voice calling my name.

“Stephanie! Oh dear. Look at those eyebrows.” I turn, am met by a petite woman walking toward me with her arms outstretched.

She pulls me into a half embrace and then leans back, frowning, to rub her fingers across my eyebrows. “Yes. We will certainly need to wax those.” She looks at me and smiles. “Hello dear. My name is Nicole and I will be working with you today.”

She ushers me into a chair in front of a mirror framed with lights. She kneels down in front of me and clasps her hands in my lap, “So. Do you wear make-up often?”

I think about my drawer with of concealer, blush and one package of unopened eyeshadow.

“No.” I reply.

“Perfect. This means you won’t have as many bad habits to break. Let’s get started, shall we?”

She moves to her counter and begins pulling out color charts and eyeliner and lipstick. I cringe when I see the wax heater turned on —definitely not looking forward to that. Nicole moves like a pro. I don’t even have to talk, and it seems as though she would prefer the silence. She works her way over my face quickly and effectively, and before I know it, she’s handing me a mirror and I’m looking at someone I don’t even recognize.

“What do you think? I didn’t go for the dramatic look; I figured you would probably feel uncomfortable with that. What you see is a simple primer, base coat, concealer, blush, bronzer, eyeshadow, eyeliner, mascara and lipstick combination.”

“That’s simple?”

Nicole laughs. “Yeah. You’ll be surprised how easy it is to effectively manage your make-up application once you get use to the steps. Just remember to clean your face
every day
so you aren’t building up residue from previous applications.” She smiles. “Oh! And don’t forget this.”

She places another piece in my bag and I look at her questioningly.

“It’s finishing powder. You put it on after you finish your make-up. It makes sure everything stays on for longer periods of time.” She reaches for a stray eyelash below my eye and then steps back to look at her handiwork. “You look great! Let’s go show your mom.”

I chew the inside of my cheek and don’t correct her. It’s obvious that I am living in a fantasy world tonight, and so I don’t want to ruin it. I follow Nicole out the door with one last look at myself in the mirror, wondering if she would mind writing me an instruction manual. There’s no way I’m going to remember all of those steps. I raise an eyebrow and rush to keep up with Nicole.

When we enter the waiting room, Emma is on her phone looking out the window. I can hear her slight whisper and know by her tone she’s probably talking with Jude and most likely it’s something she doesn’t want anyone hearing. I perk up my ears.

“I know, honey. I just think we need to be mindful of our situation and the information we’ve been given. Are you absolutely positive that’s what he said?” After a brief second, her shoulders droop and her hand reaches for her hair. She twists and maneuvers a single strand into multiple pieces, braiding without realizing it. She’s stressed.

Nicole coughs quietly, but it’s enough to make Emma start and hang up without saying goodbye. I glance down at the floor as if avoiding eye contact would help her adjust to the realization that we heard the end of the conversation, whatever it was. I know Emma well enough to know she doesn’t stress about much, except being a mom.

I wonder if Benjamin is okay.

Once Emma notices the make-up, she freaks out like I expected. She leaps from her chair and rushes over to where I stand.

“You seriously took my breath away. You look...stunning!”

She smiles and I see the tears threatening themselves in the corners of her eyes. She shakes her head and laughs to cover up the emotion.

“These colors look perfect on her, thank you so much.” She pulls out her wallet to pay for the make-up and I make my way outside with my bags of hair product and the stuff Nicole gave me. The cool air cuts its way into my thin jacket and I shiver. Glancing at my phone I realize I missed a text from Kevin.

“Hey. Thinking about u. Call if u need me - meet at r place 2morrow morning?”

I smile at his text speak and send a quick response, saying that I would see him bright and early and that I had a surprise waiting for him.

I wonder what he will think of my haircut.

I’m still texting him when Emma walks up beside me and starts laughing, “You would think that thing is permanently attached to your thumbs.” I look up and she motions for me to hand her one of the bags. “You ready? We have some more shopping to do!”

I smile and pull back the bag before handing it over. “Hey.” I ask. “Is Benjamin okay?”

She turns quickly and tilts her head, “What do you mean?” Her eyes grow concerned and she checks her phone for texts.

“Well I overheard the last part of your conversation and wondered...”

“Oh! That!” Emma laughs nervously and waves her hair out of her eyes before grabbing my elbow and giving it a squeeze. “You don’t need to worry about that —it’s just house stuff.” Her voice falls soft and I can tell she’s not saying everything. “You know, being an adult. It can be stressful at times.”

She shrugs her shoulders and places her hand on her hip. “Now, are you ready to shop or not? This is the important part —
clothes.
”

I put my phone in my pocket and follow her into the nearby boutique. I glance around at the clothes and completely forget my questions about Emma’s conversation.