Page 24 of Rex

Sunday morning arrives, and looking at my face in the mirror, I realize that the lack of sleep has not done me any favors. Taking a quick shower, I dress in workout clothes, pack a duffle bag, and look up gyms in my area. Ignoring the club’s gym, I scroll past and find one only a few blocks away. Arriving, I buy a membership and then torture myself for as long as I can take. I completely ignore the guys that are staring at me and head for the locker rooms. After that, I stop at the juice counter and pay way too much for a post-workout smoothie that tastes like ass.After a few sips, I toss the drink in the garbage and head for my car.

Returning home, I find myself bored to tears within an hour. So, I change again and head back to my car after doing another google search. Arriving at the trailhead, I grab my water bottle and start my hike. It only takes about ten minutes for me to be honest with myself. I hate working out, and I hate hiking even more. Growing up in Chicago, I tricked myself into thinking time spent outdoors would become a new thing for me. Nope, it’s not. I turn around and make my way back to my car. I sit for several long minutes, thinking about things I do enjoy, then drive back to civilization. Pulling into my garage, I park and walk back outside to look at the man sitting on my doorstep.

“Please don’t tell me that my little sister has decided to become a total Denverite,” my brother Les quips with a small smirk. “Because even though I love you, I’m not ever going hiking. Too much sun, bugs, and uphill stuff for me.”

“Nothing to worry about, Les,” I answer while unlocking my door. “It didn’t take long to realize I’m too city for that, too.”

Les follows me inside before turning to look me over with a critical eye. He says nothing but raises an eyebrow in question. I know what he’s asking, but I ignore it and make my way to my kitchen. Dropping my purse on the counter, I turn to my coffee maker and start a cup for each of us. Once done, I set one in front of Les and take a seat next to him, cradling my cup in both hands.

“Want to talk about why you’re avoiding the club?” Les asks conversationally.

“Nope.”

“Want to talk about why you lied to Mom?”

“Nope.”

“Want to talk about why you’re not admitting to whatever it is you feel about Rex?”

“Nope.”

“Want to go shopping and spend ridiculous amounts of money on shoes, clothes, and hair stuff?” Les asks in the same tone he’s been using.

“Yes, please.”

We finish our coffee in peaceful silence. I change clothes again, and then we leave, taking my brother’s car.

“I like that skirt, but the blouse is too frumpy. Aunt Thelma would love it, though,” Les states while sipping from his mall Orange Julius. “If you’re not going to buy it, I will. I can set it aside for her Christmas gift.”

I nod slowly, completely agreeing with him. Tossing the blouse in his direction, I drape the skirt over my arm and turn back to the rack of business-appropriate clothing. After another minute of searching, I hold up a different blouse. When Les nods his approval, I add it to the skirt. We make our way to check out, then out to his car with several bags between us from our walk-through of the mall.

“Now where?” Les asks.

I look down at my phone when it vibrates and see another text from Rex. I ignore it and give Les an address. I had googled hair stylists and found a walk-in-friendly one opened on a Sunday. When Les stops in the small parking lot, he looks at me with a smile.

“Are you sure this is a good idea? Maybe you should think this one through a little more. Ask Lucy for a referral, maybe,” Les suggests but does so while exiting his car and following me to the door of the business.

“I need a change, and I want to do it today,” I reply and then turn to greet the woman at the front desk.

“Hi! Do you have an appointment?” she asks.

“Hi. No, sorry, I don’t. Your website said you take walk-ins. Does someone have time for me?”

“The other stylists are busy, but I had a cancellation. What are you looking to get done?”

“I’m not sure exactly. I need a change, I think. Any suggestions?” I ask and ignore Les’s throat clearing that’s a clear hint that he wants to speak with me privately.

The woman walks around the counter and picks up a lock of my hair. Feeling the texture, she peruses my facial features and shape thoughtfully. After a moment, she steps back and drops my hair.

“You have thick, beautiful, healthy hair. Are you thinking about a color change or a new style? Short, maybe?” she questions.

“Not short, but a new style and maybe some highlights,” I answer, suddenly sure this is exactly what I want.

“Long layers, maybe a semi-butterfly cut, kind of situation. Several highlights in the right places would be stunning. We could lighten your hair first, but I really like the color it is naturally. My suggestion is not to color your hair but just go with some subtle highlights. Does that sound like what you’d want?” she asks.

“Yes, exactly,” I answer.

“Great. I’m Carly. Give me a minute to get set up, and we’ll get started,” she answers with a wide grin.

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