Chapter 2 - Only Hair
For a second, the world stopped.
Behind him, Brenda lowered the scissors slightly but did not look sorry.
Not even uncomfortable.
She looked annoyed that the moment had become emotional.
I held Leo closer and looked up at her.
“You took him without permission.”
Brenda’s mouth tightened.
“I picked him up from preschool. I’m his grandmother.”
“You are not on the pickup list anymore.”
She lifted her chin.
“I used to be.”
“That does not mean you can take him.”
“He needed a haircut.”
“He needed his mother.”
Brenda glanced toward Leo’s uneven head with open disapproval.
“You and Mark let him run around looking like a little girl.”
Leo buried his face in my shoulder.
I felt the words hit him.
I felt his body fold around them.
My own anger went strangely quiet.
That is what people don’t understand about the most dangerous rage.
It is not always loud.
Sometimes it becomes clear.
“You will never say that to him again,” I said.
Brenda gave a small, dismissive laugh.
“It was only hair.”
She placed the scissors inside the SUV and closed the door.
Only hair.
The same phrase people use when they want to erase the meaning they were warned about.
Only hair.
Only a joke.
Only a tradition.
Only family.
Only one time.
Only nothing, once they had taken what was not theirs.
Then Mark walked into the driveway.
He had come from work, pale shirt untucked at one side, sleeves rolled, keys still in his hand.
He stopped so abruptly that his body seemed to forget how to finish the step.
His eyes went first to me.
Then to Leo.
Then to the uneven golden hair.
The color drained from his face.
May you like
Leo turned toward him and slowly held up the saved curl.
Mark did not speak.
