I’ve known Tish, my hairdresser, since the 80’s when I stumbled
into her shop with a hair emergency. Not wanting to do anything too drastic to
my long hair, I had let another hair pro lop off inches to my shoulders, but the
outcome was dreadful. I had paid good money to resemble a sphinx. Seriously, it
is not a good look to have your entire head look like a pyramid. Thank goodness
Tish had time to remedy the situation.
With a good eye for style, she washed, clipped, and blew dry
my mop into a more appealing do, and in return she became my new hair pro
forever more. Back then, Tish and her husband, Dana worked together at their
salon on Jefferson Street, and I liked their easy banter, which often included
their clientele.
Tish and I had much in common both being the same age and
married with two children. We discussed friends, relatives, trips, and holidays.
When Whitney, Tish’s niece and Jim, my youngest son started dating, we had even
more to talk about.
Shhh! Don’t tell the kids. They don’t like it when we talk
about them.
My hair style hasn’t changed much over the years and I still
rely on her today, but during my last appointment six weeks ago, we were both
oddly quiet, and it had everything to do with keeping a secret. October 9
th,
2013, I entered the shop with my mouth zipped shut. I was determined
not to share any information about Jim and Whitney. Jim had confided in his
father and me recently that he had planned to propose to Whitney on her birthday, which
happened to be the next day, October 10
th.
I had known about the engagement when I made my appointment,
but I couldn’t delay my do any longer. That familiar sphinx still haunted me
when I looked in the mirror. I would have to keep my mouth shut. I didn’t want
to spoil their surprise and, I might add, no one had proposed yet, and no one
had accepted.
I did my part by not saying a word, but I noticed Tish was
oddly quiet too, a mystery. I tried, “Can you believe it hasn’t rained this
season?”
"No.” Tish looked about to yawn.
I led again, “Do you get many trick-or-treaters for
Halloween?” Luckily, that subject took hold for a few minutes, and the owner of
the shop sparked some interest when he walked in off the street carrying a
scarecrow to be used as a decoration.
Then the conversation waned again. I sighed and closed my
eyes, but the sound of the scissors grew
unbearably loud. Snip, snip, snip. What was wrong with Tish? I asked about her
health. She mumbled a few words and then, thankfully, the blow dryer muted everything.
After that it was time to pay and leave. Good for me! I had kept my secret.
Six weeks later, with my hair out of control again, I called
Tish to make an appointment. By then, Jim and Whitney’s news has made the
rounds, emails, Facebook, and good old-fashioned word of mouth. I laughed when
she congratulated me over the phone about the engagement. I told her I was
relieved now because we could talk about the wedding. Jim had proposed and
Whitney had said yes.
Tish said, “I knew about Jim’s plan to propose when you came
in last month, but I didn’t want to say anything either, thinking it would be
awful if I knew before the groom’s mother."
We congratulated each other on keeping a huge secret,
although it’s still a mystery to me as to how she knew about the engagement
plan. No matter. For now, I’ll just have to assume aunts know these things.
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| Whitney and Jim |
