I love Marcie's hair.
Strange way to start a thought, huh?
Marcie takes very good care of her hair. She has a certain brand of hair products she swears by. From the morning of our wedding (Good Neighbors 188), she convinced me to use her shampoo and conditioner. She also encourages me to grow my hair out some as well as trim the area around my goatee. I am not going to talk more about my hair though because I want to talk about Marcie's.
Marcie's hair is normally a little longer than shoulder length. Whenever it starts getting longer, she usually makes an appointment with her hairdresser. For the longest time before her old one moved, she went to her religiously. Once the old one moved to a different state, she went on a search to find her current one.
Marcie usually sees her hairdresser once a month. She schedules it almost religiously and ensures that she doesn't double book her time. And, just like tradition, I am not allowed to go. That's right. Her late husband was never allowed to go either when he was around. Marcie continued the tradition with me. It feels like a present day for me because every time I see what the hairdresser did, I love it.
That's what happened recently. It was a few days after her doctor's visit when she had her appointment while I was at work. As always, there were no pictures to spoil the surprise or anything. I tried to keep my mind occupied with work stuff. Of course, Aubrey would tease me about what her predictions were. She even mentioned starting to go to the same hairdresser except she convinced her husband to go with her. I was imagining Wes playing on his phone while stuck waiting. That thought made me smile. It was on my way home that Marcie called me.
"Leo, will you be home soon, baby?" she asked.
"I should be, Amor. Traffic isn't too bad tonight."
"Are you in the mood to go out for dinner?"
I thought for less than a second.
"How dressy do I need to be?"
"I'm thinking casual tonight, baby."
"Sounds like a plan, Amor. Can't wait to see you tonight."
There was a pause on her end before she responded.
"I can't wait to show you my hair, Leo. I really love what she did."
Hearing this made me smile. It was my motivation for hurrying home. I was mindful to keep my expectations in check. There have been times when I went home with the intention of going out with Marcie where we ended up staying in instead. Based on the idea that she suggested going out, I didn't want my innate testosterone-fueled thoughts to derail that plan.
I walked into a quiet house. I saw nothing different in the living or dining room before I was supposed to head into the bedroom. As I entered, I saw my wife standing in front of the mirror. Her dark cowboy hat was on her head as she looked in the mirror. Her red sundress was around her accented by her boots. I couldn't tell initially what happened to her hair because the room was darker. It was when the smile was visible in the mirror that I relaxed a little.
"Welcome home, Cowboy," she whispered in her seductive voice.
There was a portion of me thinking she was intent on derailing her own plans for a moment before she turned towards me. I walked towards her as her arms spread open.
