nights were spent in this room, pining over elusive men and reasons I thought I’d never get married? Most notably, Seth Greenwood. I feel the aura of sadness in the room, like the imprint of that obsessive, hopeful single girl is still here. I’m almost glad no one is renting the room, lest they pick up on the pathetic, husband-hungry air. Seth didn’t want me. Why didn’t I get it? Why did I think I could make him love me? Looking back on my younger self really makes me wonder how I had the brain cell count to get through law school.
The minuscule corner shower, the only one in the house, is flanked on one side by the toilet, and the sink on the other. It’s a bathroom of togetherness. These 40’s bungalows were made for business. You weren’t supposed to be spending all morning on your beauty regiment. And the builders made sure that you wouldn’t. It was a male conspiracy, I’m certain of it.
In the mirrored medicine cabinet, I find an old box of “Scarlet Copper” hair color that I decided I’d try on one particularly desperate night when I thought maybe red hair would make me irresistible. Its $3.99 clearance price tag makes me laugh— who was I? Kay probably couldn’t bear to throw it away at that price, so she left it in case I returned for it.
I always thought that a new hair color would define me, make people take notice of me. It dawns on me that maybe that’s what is missing from my life. No one notices me anymore. I’ve become invisible.
I need to go back to Philly with a plan. I need to prove to Kevin that he didn’t make a mistake in marrying me, and I will find something to do with my days.
I lift the box and stare into the mirror at my dark brown, boring hair. I study the box for a few seconds and check my watch. “Why not?” I ask my reflection. “If I happen to get a job interview while I’m here, they’re more likely to remember a redhead.”
Chapter 5
‡
M y hair is red. Not highlights of copper mahogany as the box promised, but Ronald McDonald red with undertones of my dark color. It’s not even. So it’s kind of like a tie-dye summer camp experience gone wrong with various shades of brown, fuchsia and garnet. I shake my head. Maybe a bit of salmon pink, too, if I’m honest.
It’s the house. I thought it was me, but clearly, this house brings out the stupid in me—because what sane, thinking person would dye their hair without testing the color, right before a dinner with their ex-boyfriend and his spritely, perfect wife? It’s not like I want to impress Seth or Arin, but I seriously don’t want to give him a sense of relief for dodging a bullet, either. No one wants to send their ex into a happy dance over the way they’ve let themselves go, am I right?
I wrap a towel around my head and emerge from the bathroom just in time to hear the front door unlatch. “Kay?” I grasp the towel and wonder if it’s possible to make a beanie look fashionable in the middle of the California summer.
Kay is at the front door, bogged down by several bags of groceries. She keeps them snug to her chest—and her mouth drops open. “Seriously, what did you do to your hair? I mean, Ashley, it’s so awesome to see you. You look great!”
Kay’s like the strictest mother on the block. She notices everything.
I yank the towel off for her full reaction, and Kay gasps. It’s obviously bad, as Kay is not a drama queen like myself.
“I found an old box of color,” I explain. “I thought it might be a nice change and maybe light a new passion in me.”
“It lit something, but I’m not sure it’s passion.” She wrestles with the groceries, uncertain if she should hug me or show some sign of warmth.
I pat my head. “I needed a change. That’s why I’m here to begin with.” I straighten my shoulders and try to own it. “I can fix it when I get home.” I move toward her and give her a one-armed hug so as not to make her too uncomfortable.
She bristles at my touch. “Have
The minuscule corner shower, the only one in the house, is flanked on one side by the toilet, and the sink on the other. It’s a bathroom of togetherness. These 40’s bungalows were made for business. You weren’t supposed to be spending all morning on your beauty regiment. And the builders made sure that you wouldn’t. It was a male conspiracy, I’m certain of it.
In the mirrored medicine cabinet, I find an old box of “Scarlet Copper” hair color that I decided I’d try on one particularly desperate night when I thought maybe red hair would make me irresistible. Its $3.99 clearance price tag makes me laugh— who was I? Kay probably couldn’t bear to throw it away at that price, so she left it in case I returned for it.
I always thought that a new hair color would define me, make people take notice of me. It dawns on me that maybe that’s what is missing from my life. No one notices me anymore. I’ve become invisible.
I need to go back to Philly with a plan. I need to prove to Kevin that he didn’t make a mistake in marrying me, and I will find something to do with my days.
I lift the box and stare into the mirror at my dark brown, boring hair. I study the box for a few seconds and check my watch. “Why not?” I ask my reflection. “If I happen to get a job interview while I’m here, they’re more likely to remember a redhead.”
Chapter 5
‡
M y hair is red. Not highlights of copper mahogany as the box promised, but Ronald McDonald red with undertones of my dark color. It’s not even. So it’s kind of like a tie-dye summer camp experience gone wrong with various shades of brown, fuchsia and garnet. I shake my head. Maybe a bit of salmon pink, too, if I’m honest.
It’s the house. I thought it was me, but clearly, this house brings out the stupid in me—because what sane, thinking person would dye their hair without testing the color, right before a dinner with their ex-boyfriend and his spritely, perfect wife? It’s not like I want to impress Seth or Arin, but I seriously don’t want to give him a sense of relief for dodging a bullet, either. No one wants to send their ex into a happy dance over the way they’ve let themselves go, am I right?
I wrap a towel around my head and emerge from the bathroom just in time to hear the front door unlatch. “Kay?” I grasp the towel and wonder if it’s possible to make a beanie look fashionable in the middle of the California summer.
Kay is at the front door, bogged down by several bags of groceries. She keeps them snug to her chest—and her mouth drops open. “Seriously, what did you do to your hair? I mean, Ashley, it’s so awesome to see you. You look great!”
Kay’s like the strictest mother on the block. She notices everything.
I yank the towel off for her full reaction, and Kay gasps. It’s obviously bad, as Kay is not a drama queen like myself.
“I found an old box of color,” I explain. “I thought it might be a nice change and maybe light a new passion in me.”
“It lit something, but I’m not sure it’s passion.” She wrestles with the groceries, uncertain if she should hug me or show some sign of warmth.
I pat my head. “I needed a change. That’s why I’m here to begin with.” I straighten my shoulders and try to own it. “I can fix it when I get home.” I move toward her and give her a one-armed hug so as not to make her too uncomfortable.
She bristles at my touch. “Have
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