Page 106 of Fun Together
“Isn’t that the one where she’s pregnant with Satan’s baby? You watched that as a kid?”
She shrugs. “I know, but I used to skip the really scary parts because I mostly just loved her outfits.”
“Rosemary’s Baby, it is.”
We decide to watch the movie in bed on her laptop. Or I guess I should say, Faye watches the movie, and I watch Faye watch the movie. She doesn’t even know she does it, but she mouths the words to basically the entire thing.
When it gets to the part where Rosemary returns from the hair salon with a new pixie cut, I watch Faye mouth along with her, “It’s Vidal Sassoon.”
“He’s such a dick,” I say.
“Hmm?”
“Her husband. Saying that about her haircut.”
“Oh yeah, he’s the worst. Just wait. You have no idea.”
We watch for a few minutes longer and I can see where Faye’s fashion influence comes from. I can easily imagine her, as a kid, watching this and admiring the dresses.
“What would you say?” she asks. “If your wife came in with a new haircut you didn’t like?”
“I’d say, ‘You look cute, let’s make out.’”
She rolls her eyes in the way I now know means she’s trying to resist my charms. All I ever want to do is make her roll her eyes at me. “You’re so unserious.”
“I’m dead serious. I’d go down and kiss Vidal Sassoon right on the mouth for making my wife feel so beautiful.”
“Okay, okay,” she says, playfully brushing me off. “I get it.”
She moves so that her head is resting against my shoulder. “One time my mom came home with bleached blonde hair, and the guy she was married to at the time made her get in the car so he could drive her back to the salon and demand a refund.”
“That’s awful.”
“Mark. He was terrible. He used to bring me those red cinnamon candies. Who eats those?” She chews on her thumbnail. “He was some kind of manager at the local bank. I think he ended up going to prison for embezzlement.”
I’m curious about Faye’s upbringing but never know a good way to ask without making her feel pressured to talk about it. “How old were you when that happened?”
“Probably fourteen or fifteen.”
“Did your mom change her hair back?”
She snorts. “No, but that also coincided with her hat phase, which I’m now realizing isn’t a coincidence. She’s getting married again next month.”
“Really?”
“Husband number five. Marsha loves being a bride.”
“Are you going to the wedding?”
“No, she doesn’t really need me there.”
She doesn’t sound sad when she says this, but she sighs right after, like she’s resigned to it. Her mom may not need her there, but what does Faye need?
We finish the movie and lay in silence together. She rubs a circle on my chest with her index finger and I run my hands through her hair.My fingers snag a little on the waves.
“I’m sorry,” she says.
“For what?”
