Scarred Beautiful (27 page)

“Matt’s,” I respond with a smile. “He let me borrow it for the day. Hop in, I’ll show you how this baby corners like it’s on rails!” And with that, and an abundance of laughter, we climb in, buckle up, and head down the highway.

Twenty minutes later, we pull up at this chic little salon and spa called Tumble, and slide off the plush leather upholstery and back out into the sunshine. My phone vibrates indicating a text and I grab it from the zippered pocket of my purse, smiling when I see it’s from Matt.

Hope you’re enjoying yourself. Any idea when you’ll be back?

I shake my head. He must be worried about his car. I’m just about to type back when another text comes in.

I miss you, sunshine
.

My heart does a strange little dance and my pulse quickens, those three words taking me by surprise and throwing me for a loop because I don’t know how to respond. I only know how I feel. I miss him, too.

My fingers hover over the keypad and I type and re-type the words four times, feeling Mom’s eyes on me, knowing she’ll be looking for an explanation when I’m done. Another minute goes by and suddenly I realize that I don’t want to waste another second so I type back:

I kind of miss you, too
.

I let out a deep breath as if that’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, and then I wait.

My heart continues to pound as I stare down at the screen, wondering what he’s thinking and willing him to answer, when he finally does.

Kind of…Good to know
.

I bite my lip to keep from smiling too wide and toss the phone back in my purse, my footsteps feeling lighter now.

“Hmph. From the look on your face, my maternal radar says that maybe that was…Matt?”

“You’ve still got it,” I joke, before skipping my way into the spa with Mom keeping pace at my side.

The salon has a trendy sophistication with its hardwood floors and exposed beams, combined with a Zen-like feel brought to life by decor in earthy taupes and greens, bamboo, and a variety of plants. It elicits a feeling of instant calm and is the perfect place for Mom and me to spend the rest of our afternoon.

She grabs my arm and pulls me aside, out of the way of two customers leaving the shop. “Honey, this is too fancy. I think we should go somewhere else.”

“Mom.” I tilt my head to the side and meet her eyes. “This is perfect and it’s my treat. I want you to relax and enjoy. Okay?”

She huffs out a frustrated breath, knowing she won’t win because I’ve cornered the market on stubbornness. “Fine,” she retorts with a smile and a roll of her eyes. “I know better than to argue with my daughter.”

“Exactly.”

A buxom blonde with perfectly coiffed hair, lips painted red, and legs that go on for miles leads the way to the stations where we’re getting pedicures and hot stone massages. I’ve been so busy with my new job that I hardly have time to pamper myself so I’m glad for the opportunity and especially happy to be here with Mom. I hope our conversation earlier helped her in some way, maybe made her spirit a bit lighter, her burden a little less heavy to carry.

We chat and laugh for what seems like hours, drifting away into the sphere of relaxation as our legs are massaged, hot stones pressed firmly to our skin, blissful smiles covering our faces.

“So when are Brad and Gabby getting married? They’ve been engaged for a while now,” she asks over the sound of bubbles whirling at our feet.

“Honestly,” I tell her, “I have no idea. I think it’ll be sometime before the end of this year. She doesn’t seem in a huge hurry although Brad would marry her tomorrow. She’s so happy, though, and if anyone deserves it, she does.”

“You do, too,” she says, surveying my face and landing on my eyes. “Something’s holding you back though, and I want to know what it is.”

I wish I knew the answer to that question. Maybe it’s my overactive brain that’s holding me back. It’s never been a problem before, or at least it wasn’t until two years ago when I lost Kyle, but now it feels like a stone wall that I can’t knock down but am desperately trying to chip away at, piece by piece.

“I can’t make sense of anything right now.”

“What’s there to make sense of, sweetie?” she asks casually, as if nothing
has
to make sense.

“Well, I…with Matt for example,” I say openly, because let’s just cut to the chase. I relax my arms on the sides of the leather chair as my feet soak in the whirlpool. “We’ve barely known each other a week but I feel like I’ve known him for years, and, I don’t know what’s happening. I mean, there really can’t be anything happening because as I said before, I’m leaving. But, yet…he makes me feel things that I shouldn’t feel so soon. It’s impossible.”

“Sweetie, listen. You know, I knew your dad for three years before things got serious and well, he seemed like a safe bet for me.” And the irony in her words is not lost on me. She laughs yet it holds nothing but bitterness and regret. “You know what I think? I think you need to stop listing all the reasons why you shouldn’t eat the peas, and if you want the peas, just eat the damn peas. Time doesn’t dictate feelings, Fran. Time speeds up when you feel…. Everything’s magnified when you feel. The sky suddenly shines brighter, that piece of chocolate you ate just got a bit sweeter, that song you listened to takes on a deeper meaning.” She pats my knee, closes her eyes and sinks back against the leather seat, leaving me to think about how much I want those damn peas right now.

It’s amazing to me how wise my mom is and how much I need her in my life. She’s been through so much, and yet here she is, giving me advice that she probably wishes someone had given her all those years ago. The years before she met Dad.

When our legs are smooth and our toes are a bright pink, we head over to get her hair done. I told Claude, her assigned stylist who is wooing her with his French accent, to give her the works: haircut, color, and blow dry. Looking at her dated hairstyle, I can’t even imagine when she last made time for herself, and it warms me knowing I get a chance to do this for her today.

By the time we’re finished, Mom’s old-fashioned locks have been transformed into silky, ebony, shoulder-length strands of glossy perfection. Claude threw in some auburn highlights and gave her a cut with blunt angles to accentuate her cheekbones and some fringe to make her green eyes pop.

“So what do you think?”

She glances at herself in the mirror, shaking her head from side to side, watching her hair bounce, a satisfied smile lifting her lips. “I like it. Yes, I like it a lot.” She turns to face me. “Thank you, sweetie. I think I needed this without even realizing it.”

It’s amazing what you can need without realizing you need it.

Once I’ve paid and left generous tips for the staff, Mom and I make our way back outside. I notice she has a renewed spring in her step and a beaming smile on her face, making this all worthwhile.

We stroll down State Street, taking in everything from the luxury boutique shopping to the larger stores like Nordstrom, to the adorable mom-and-pop specialty shops. There are restaurants galore and I can’t imagine not being able to find something you like with all the culinary options to suit every palette.

A window display of ceramic knick-knacks calls to her. “Let’s stop in here, Fran. I’d like to pick something up for Vivian as a thank you.”

“Sure,” I say, smiling, as I remember all the funny novelty items we had in our house growing up. Even then I thought they were a bit strange.

While Mom is chatting it up with the cashier, I mill around the store for nothing in particular when something catches my eye. It’s a keychain with a ceramic clown. He’s got large clown shoes, a big red nose, and an even bigger smile on his face. Sold.

“What’s in the bag?” she asks as she holds the door open for me.

“Just a little something for Matt I thought he’d like,” I reply with a grin, as I picture his face when he opens it. “It’s kind of a joke.”

“Good girl.” She nods her head approvingly, flipping her newly coiffed hair over her shoulder. “It’s a step in the right direction.”

By the time we make it back to the restaurant where her car is parked, the sun is dipping down into the horizon, and my heart can relate. It’s sinking in my chest knowing that I have to say goodbye to her.

I cut the ignition and twist my body toward her, picking up her hand and clasping it in mine. “Mom, I’m so glad we did this. I had such a nice time. And…thank you for finding my heart.”

“Oh, sweet girl,” she says, pulling me close, “it’s impossible to miss,” she whispers into my hair, “it’s so big.” She breaks away and holds my face, peering into my eyes. “I love you so much. Thank you for what you did for me today…and I don’t mean the Hollywood hair.”

We say our goodbyes and I watch her drive away in that Volkswagen Jetta, the same car she’s had for the last ten years, but at least now she’s got new hair to go with it. She’s also got an envelope filled with money that I slipped into her purse. I knew if I gave her a check she would rip it up, so now at least she’ll have some extra money when she needs it.

A surge of excitement rolls through me knowing I’m on my way back to see Matt and of course, I get to play with his car for just a bit longer. I won’t tell him that I put the pedal to the metal a couple of times to see just how fast his baby could go.

The drive back to the hotel is mesmerizing, the sky a pool of soft pinks, bright oranges, and deep blues drowning in one another to create an abstract work of art. I’ve always found beauty in the sky but tonight it seems that much more stunning. Mom’s words ring in my ears, ‘
Everything’s magnified when you feel
.’ I suppose she’s right.

When I’m about two minutes from the hotel I text Matt to let him know that his car and I are back, and in one piece. While he may not admit it, I’m sure he was nervous about his car.

I round the circle and meet the valet attendant, who is once again drooling as I pull up. You would think he’d be accustomed to luxury cars, but for some reason this particular one seems to get his juices flowing. He comes around and opens my door and I hand him the key before he quickly gets in and speeds off toward the garage.

I giggle and shake my head at his eagerness only to turn and find the world has fallen silent around me. I stare at Matt, winded, my heart stuttering in my chest at the mere sight of him. I’m suddenly seventeen years old again, opening the door to the boy I’ve been crushing on who’s finally taking me out on a date. He’s standing against the copper doors with a white dress shirt hanging loosely over a pair of faded blue jeans, hair slightly mussed as if he’s been running his fingers through it, hands deep in his pockets. His dimple is puckered from his smile and his blue eyes are sparkling with the night sky.

I’d like my peas now, please
.

I’m crawling out of my skin and think my watch might explode like in one of those James Bond 007 flicks if I look at it one more time. Fran’s only been gone for six hours yet it feels like forever. I’ve missed her like crazy today and I can’t wait to see her smile, talk with her, kiss her lips, hold her close.

I’m surprised I was able to focus on my presentation after she left. The entire time I was speaking to the audience, I was thinking about Fran, glancing over at the empty seat beside Peyton and wishing I was looking into her eyes, my heart tight with a longing I haven’t felt before.

So the moment she texts me, I run a marathon to get down to the lobby and wait for her, tapping my foot against the sidewalk and biting the inside of my lip in anticipation, until I can catch a glimpse of her, the only thing that will calm me down right now.

The second the Aston Martin pulls into the drive, I find myself frozen, unable to move or even breathe…until I see her.

Jesus.

She is
exquisite
. I drink her in like a tall glass of water after a severe drought: her ruffled hair, the green spaghetti strap dress adorning her curvy frame, her strappy sandals and cute pink toes, and when our eyes finally meet, her smile that wraps around me like a warm blanket in the dead of winter.