Page 89 of Free to Breathe
I quickly open my arms and roll off the couch. Standing, I reach down and grab her hands, pulling her to her feet. “You’re going to make nachos? Seriously, the woman I love making my favorite food ever? If you’re up to it, I can’t think of a better thing to eat.”
Corinna rolls her eyes. “Of course not.”
“I’ll make it worth your while.”
Laughing at me as she makes her way into the kitchen, she tosses over her shoulder, “I’m sure you will.”
47
Corinna
Five days before surgery
“All right, no shaving my head, but what about cutting my hair?” I ask my surgical coordinator.
The woman on the other end of the line hesitates. “So many people ask me this question, Corinna. Let me ask you the question back. Why?”
I toss my thick mane of hair over my shoulder, where it cascades effortlessly to the middle of my back. It’s gorgeous—probably no one in their right mind would ever think of taking scissors to it. But I need to put my affairs in order. And if I don’t make it out of surgery alive, I somehow don’t think they’ll consider my hair an organ to donate.
I don’t mention that to my surgical coordinator.
“All you people have mentioned to me is how exhausted this procedure is going to leave me for months. Months! My hair reaches the middle of my back and is as thick as a blanket. If I cut it, not shave it despite the grossness of not being able to shave within a week of surgery…” Temporarily diverted, I go on a mini rant. “Seriously, it’s a good thing my boyfriend is amazing and can take my leg hair having its own five-o’clock shadow.” I hear laughter in my ear as I continue. “I read the surgical materials about not shaving within so many days to avoid infection. I also understand people do things they regret later. How could donating my hair be something I’ll regret? It’s hair, right? It will grow back.”
The silence on the other line tells me I scored a point. “There’s nothing preventing you from doing this, Corinna. As long as you’re sure. Surgical patients can be extremely emotional when the procedure is over. I don’t want you to have distress when you will need that energy.”
“Excellent. Then we’re in agreement. I’ll just call my salon to make sure they can fit me in as the last appointment today.” I don’t bother telling her I’ve already done that. The people I want there with me are going to take a while to reach.
* * *
Medusa stares backat me in the mirror. With fourteen braids sticking out from all over my head, I’m certainly doing a great imitation of the Greek monster. Though I don’t think she’s being as pampered as I’ve been. So far, I’ve been treated to a manicure and pedicure, even though I had to decline putting on polish since it’s flammable when you have surgery. I’m also getting treated to an upper back and shoulder massage as I wait for some of the most important people in my life to descend on the salon. All of the consultants at Shimmer, the salon I’ve been going to since we first moved to Collyer, have stayed behind to provide their services for free.
They’re getting one hell of a tip tonight and dinner delivered from the local Chinese place.
I reach up and finger one of the crazy long braids. One side of my mouth tips up in the mirror as my fingers trail over the length to the ends where a piece of paper is attached. Every member of Shimmer had a hand in braiding my hair, but only my longtime hairdresser, Gail, will get to cut one braid. Just one. The rest are for my family and me to deal with. Gail will trim up what was left of my hair when it’s done.
For so long, I worried so much about what people thought about my looks. I was a magnet for every dickless wonder with wandering hands. Then I fought back the systematic stripping of my self-worth during my captivity. Then there was hearing my own internal debasement from Addison’s lips. I shake my head, braids with little notes attached to the ends flying everywhere.
My Colby. He paid so much for the pain he never intended to cause. My fears about my worth are what prevented me from going after the truth. There’s a saying about vanity overtaking common sense. Mine did the exact opposite, it removed my common sense.
I hear Gail say, “She’s in the back, but we’re going to wait for the others.”
It’s almost time. I smile because my pride is about to be restored even as I use my vanity to take it down. Tonight, one of my vanities is about to help someone who desperately needs the reassurance I could have used years ago.
Vanity has no place in pride. Not for me. Not any longer.
* * *
“Are you positive, Corinna?”Cassidy says quietly, her hands resting on my shoulders. “There’s no going back once we begin. They only need to shave a little bit around the surgical incision. You don’t have to lose all of your gorgeous hair. You know we’ll do anything you need us to while you’re recovering.”
I meet Cassidy’s eyes in the mirror as I reach up to place my hand on top of hers. “There was no going back for me from the minute I knew this tumor needed to come out, Cass. There’s no need for vanity with what I’m about to face. I need strength. Recovery’s going to be an uphill battle as it is. Let’s not add worrying if my hair’s getting into my incision.”
Her hands clench down hard. “Then who goes first?”
“Gail,” I say immediately. “She needs to show you all where to cut.” Leaning forward, I break Cassidy’s hold on me as I place my glass on Gail’s station. “Gail, where do you want this motley crew?” I joke.
All my siblings, as well as Jason, Caleb, Keene, and Charlie, have gathered around with varying degrees of shock and awe on their faces. Colby, who’s standing closest to me, leans down to whisper, “Never forget, I love you.”
A luminous smile crosses my face. “Gail? Show them where to cut.”
