Page 18 of Finding Molly Parsons

“Are we all adequately cried out yet?” Mateo asked a few minutes later. Faith giggled.

“I’m good now,” she replied, wiping her face.

“Yeah, all good,” Carmen added, clearing her throat.

“God. Lesbians!” Mateo huffed. “Now, I didn’t get to do a full fashion show yesterday,” Mateo began, pulling Faith into the living room. “So, we are having one now.”

Faith looked at the bags piled on the sofa. “What’s all that?”

“I went to the store and picked up a few items for you. Now, I don’t know if you’ll like everything, but I’m feeling confident.”

Faith looked from the mountain of bags to Mateo and then Carmen, who was smiling affectionately.

“Mateo, this is…”

“If you say anything along the lines of it’s too much or you can’t accept it, I’m going to throw a massive fit. And trust me, you don’t want that.”

“You really don’t,” Carmen laughed.

“Okay, I won’t say anything, but thank you.”

“Great, let’s get started.”

???

“Yes, yes, yes, I’m a genius,” Mateo crowed loudly. Faith stood in the living room dressed in light distressed dungarees rolled up above her ankles, a black short-sleeved t-shirt and new Converse All-Stars.

“What do you think?” Carmen asked.

“I love it. I feel comfortable but stylish, without having to put a ton of effort into it.”

“See, genius.” Mateo cried, thrusting his fist in the air.

Faith laughed, and Carmen rolled her eyes. “What about the other stuff you tried on?” Carmen pawed through the ridiculous amount of clothes piled on the sofa.

“I liked all the jeans. I think I prefer the darker ones.”

“Yes, you looked great in those black skinnies,” Mateo remarked, holding the aforementioned jeans up.

“Yeah, I agree. What about the shirts and t-shirts?”

“Love them all. Thanks for dialing back the glitter,” Faith grinned. It hadn’t escaped her notice that Mateo had chosen darker colors.

“It was difficult to do, but for you, Faith, I rose to the challenge.”

“Um…” Faith fumbled. She wanted to ask Mateo to cut her hair. Nothing drastic but something new. “Would you… um… would you cut my hair?”

Mateo jumped up from the sofa and began running his hands through Faith’s long locks. “What are you thinking? You have gorgeous hair, chica. Has it ever been cut?”

“Not really. My mom trimmed the ends once a year, but that’s it.” Faith loved her hair, but she hated the fact she’d never been given the choice of what to do with it.

“It’s such a rich blonde, almost like honey,” Mateo muttered, more to himself than anyone else in the room.

“It comes from my father’s side.”

“Are you wanting a trim? Or something a little more drastic?”

Faith twisted her hands together. “Um… I’d like it to be shoulder length and um…”

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