A black dress with an envelope neckline and a slit on the thigh enhances the shapes that I have long stopped paying attention to. I look in the mirror in the shop and I conclude that this is too radical change for a person who has spent the last few months in stretched cotton. Still, I take it to the checkout along with a cherry turtleneck sweatshirt and leather skirt to wear to my first meeting with Max.
The thought of using Richard's card slips my mind, a minor display of retribution that lately seems to be my favorite form of joy when my husband is concerned. The fire I would ignite if I had used his card for my unconventional beauty endeavors. I pay using my account, although the expenditure significantly reduces my savings. It's hard to wear clothes before the wedding, those bought with a generous hand by Richard, I haven't entered for a long time, and I would like to finally feel as before, alluring, provocative.
I want to catch someone's eye, maybe do a little seduction if I feel particularly adventurous. Another round sum goes to the toiletry bag. When a young girl starts massaging my face and cleavage, patting some fragrant preparations into my skin, tears are streaming from my eyes.
"Is something wrong?" She asks surprised.
"No, nothing... just... sorry, I just remembered something sad," I explain.
After all, I will not tell her that I am roaring because I do not remember when someone touched me with such tenderness. I don't remember at all when I was just lying there, I didn't have to do anything, and someone was taking care of me.
Relax it happens, the other says with a smile as if reading my mind.
Reassured by a pleasant visit to a beauty salon, I leave my money at the hairdresser's with a much lighter hand. I decide to go to the salon recommended by Annie, although it is expensive.
"Can you do something about this mess?" I ask, gesturing at the fluff of my hair. I sit in the chair in front of the long mirror. As usual, there is one big tangle on the head. "I have been dreaming about long-lasting hair straightening for years"
"We'll wash them first, then see what the potential is, okay?"
I nod my head meekly. It couldn't be worse, even if he shaved me bold with a razor. Fortunately, such extremes turn out to be unnecessary. When I return to the chair with my head wet, I find out that I use the wrong shampoos and conditioners that are damaging my hair.
"Nobody told you before that your hair wants to curl?" A hairdresser much younger than me asks me tenderly. Which, I must admit, feels very nice.
"They definitely want to make my life difficult."
"You just don't know how to handle them, and it's not that hard."
After a longer persuasions, driven by the entire salon staff, I finally let myself be coaxed to "extract the twist", as he calls it, instead of treating the hair with a straightener. Scissors, then some spraying and finally the barber tells me to lower my head to take out the diffuser. When I get up and look in the mirror, I can't believe my eyes. I have curls like Kim Basinger when she started her career. Applause can be heard in the salon, not only the staff, but even the customers are clapping. I'm in shock.
At home, Jacob chokes at the sight of me with chocolate milk. Michael plays in his room, but after a while, apparently alerted by his brother, he runs to the kitchen. The boys look at me as if Captain America has just flown into their house.
"Wow. You changed a lot!" says Jacob appreciatively.
Fortunately, the cashmere coat that was once too spacious for me fits me me perfectly now. My legs still look good in high heels. Lastly, I put on long gold earrings. I leave my phone number to the nanny and ask once again not to let them stay up late and make sure that they brush their teeth before going to bed.
***
I thought I would impress Max, but ironically he is the one who dazzles me. I have to take a deep breath to shield the glow that emanates from him. I have 4-inch high heels on my feet and yet he still towers over me. His eyes are dark green today as he is staring at me greedily.
"If it wasn't for your cute gap between your teeth I would have a problem recognizing you.
"You were curiously beautiful before, but now... you're knocking it down, girl," he says cheerfully.
"Your hair... what have you done with it?"
I let the admiration hang in the air, feeling amused by it.
At the concert, I feel like we're really on a date. He brings the wine, holds me gently by the waist as someone in the crowd inadvertently pushes against me. Then he leads me to a VIP room separate from the concert hall and private enough that you won't be bothered with prying ears. We are left alone with a cabernet sauvignon cooling in a steel bucket.
"Will you tell me about those bad days you wrote about? he asks.
"My husband is cheating on me," I fire before I even think about it. Part of me wants to finally see if this man ever becomes serious.
"Okay." Max is surprised.
"I thought it was about a more conventional problem, kids bullying at school, discord with a friend. I wasn't expecting a heavy caliber like this one."
"They're not even my kids."
"You are getting more interesting by the minute."
"It's not that I'm an ungrateful stepmother. I really believed that I would love them and create a family."
"But the bastards do their best to make my life miserable. They probably have not come to terms with the divorce of their parents, who are just throwing themselves around with them, and they are playing against me."
"Easier to blame me than mom and dad. And Richard... well, he cheated on his ex-wife, now he is cheating on me."
"Why don't you leave him?" he asks, as if breaking up with my husband was the easiest solution in the world.
In fact, it was a question that I didn't want to honestly answer for several days now. The reason was more painful than I realized, and I convinced myself that if I ignored it long enough, it would fade away. Truth be told it wasn't just that I was afraid to be left alone, without a husband to hold my back. Or the fact that the feeling for Richard was still smoldering.
