The Side Effects of You (2 page)

I sat patiently and waited for my appointment at Sassy Styles. I hadn't wanted to go, but I had gotten a gift certificate from my staff, and I'd promised I'd redeem it. Even though I didn't want to admit it, I needed this appointment. I hadn't been to the salon in over six years, and even though I put a box relaxer on my hair every eight weeks, I hadn't had a trim, a haircut, or a professional styling in ages. I probably had six or seven inches of split ends on my head.

I had fallen into a dull routine of pressed powder, eyeliner, lip gloss, and my hair pulled back into a bun. Yes, that was my look, even for church and some of the social events my friends invited me to. I was divorced and hadn't dated in years, because my ex-husband had given me a gift called herpes.

I still didn't believe it, even though my doctor had diagnosed me with it. It had taken that first outbreak to let me know that I was truly infected. It had hurt like a motherfucker, and I had decided then that I'd never have sex again, because I didn't want anyone to get it from me. And to be completely honest, I didn't want to disclose my affliction to anyone, so I'd walked away from the dating scene completely.

None of my friends knew why I had turned into a dateless prude, so they spent a lot of time trying to convince me to get back out there and meet people. They all were under the impression that I was scared from my marriage with Charles and that I was just too afraid to get hurt again, but that wasn't it. I just didn't want to spread this horrible, painful virus to anyone else.

“Samantha Cooper,” a young beauty called out. It was as though she had appeared out of thin air.

“Yes?” I stood.

“Come this way. Andrea is ready for you.”

I got up and followed her. I secretly admired the salon's decor and thanked God that my staff had set me up with such an upscale place. The last thing I needed was to get a makeover from some ghetto-fabulous joint.

“Have a seat here,” the young woman offered. I sat in the empty seat she pointed to, near the shampoo bowls.

“Thank you.” I looked around and wondered why there were two waiting areas. I could have stayed in front. It reminded me of the doctor's office. The nurse called you back so you could wait an additional ten minutes, which you spent rereading all the posters on the walls ten times.

She put her hand on the shoulder of another young lady who had approached. “Amanda here is going to drape you, and Andrea will be out in a second to consult with you. Would you care for a drink? We have bottled water, sparkling water, flavored water, red wine, white wine, champagne, and strawberry daiquiris.”

I smiled. I'd had no idea it would be that upscale. “White wine will be great. How much is it?”

“It comes with your service, ma'am. There's no extra charge.”

“Get outta here,” I said and waved my hand.

“Yes, ma'am, it's included. I'll have it out to you in a flash,” she said before walking away.

“Please stand,” Amanda instructed.

I stood. Amanda slipped the robe on over my clothes. Just then a beautiful, voluptuous sister approached me. She extended a hand.

“Hi. I'm Andrea Young, the owner of Sassy Styles. I'll be your stylist today.”

“So nice to meet you.”

“Do you have an idea what you would like to have done today? Did you bring any magazines or pictures?”

“Actually, no. I came only because my staff and crew felt sorry for me, so they all chipped in and gave me a gift card, and here I am. They said you were the best, so I'm up for suggestions.”

The young beauty returned with my wine. “Here you are, Miss Cooper.”

“Thank you.”

“Thanks, Nicole,” Andrea said to the young lady before she hurried off. “So I see you have relaxed hair and your ends are severely damaged.”

“Yes, I relaxed it, like, a week ago.”

“Okay, well, I will have my assistant, Monica, shampoo and deep condition you. While you enjoy your wine and conditioner, I'll have her give you a stylebook to look through, and we'll go from there. Now, I'm not saying you have to look for an exact style, but at least find something you like or a look you may want to try, and I'll tailor it to you.”

“Wow. Thanks, Andrea. I'm excited. This place is lovely.”

“Thank you.”

I got up and followed Monica to the shampoo bowls and then to the dryer. During the twenty-minute conditioning treatment, I looked through a stylebook and got a refill on my wine. Two was my limit, because I had to drive home, but I savored the flavor. I could tell the wine wasn't a house brand. I owned a restaurant, and I knew good wine from cheap wine. I was definitely going to come back here.

“Come this way, Miss Cooper, so I can rinse you,” Monica said when the twenty minutes had elapsed.

When I was finally in the stylist chair, I made a bold choice. “I like this,” I told Andrea, pointing to a short, tapered style in the stylebook. It was time for a change. I had never tried short hair, but I felt like I wanted to be noticed. I wanted to walk into my restaurant and look as good as some of my patrons. I handed her the book. She took a glance at it and then put it to the side.

“Now, as a stylist, I know you can rock this haircut, but I have to ask you three times if you are sure before I can proceed. Are you sure?”

“I'm sure.”

“Samantha, are you sure?”

“Yes, I'm sure.”

“Samantha, are you absolutely sure you want this drastic change?”

“One hundred and ten percent sure.” I hoped it wasn't the white wine talking.

By the time she was done with the cut, I felt brand new. “Before you put that foam on, can I touch it? I mean, I can see the difference already, and I'm loving it,” I said.

“Yes. You sure can.”

I ran my fingers through my hair and played around with it for a moment. “Oh, my God, this is beautiful. I love it. I love it.” It looked so good, and it wasn't even finished.

“It does fit you well. I'd love to do your eyebrows, and since you have a nice piece of change on your gift card, I'd love to do your makeup too.”

“Let's do it.” I was so excited.

When it was all done, I looked beautiful. I looked like my old self, the person I used to be before Charles took my life from me.

“You are beautiful,” Andrea said, complimenting me. “Your man is going to be blown away.”

“Well, I don't have one of those, but I know my staff and customers will be. I may never, ever have another man.”

“Don't think like that. You are beautiful, Samantha, and we are not meant to be alone. God has someone for all of us. You just have to wait on the Lord.”

“Listen, I don't get into all that religious mumbo jumbo. I lost faith in God years ago. I have always done the right thing. At least I thought I did. My crime was falling in love and marrying a man who was no good for me. Now I'm scarred for life.”

“Don't say that. Bad things happen to good people, and I'll tell you firsthand that life isn't all perfect or fair, but you should never stop believing.”

“Yeah, well, God has cursed my body. I never cheated.” My eyes welled up with tears. “I didn't deserve the cards I was dealt.”

She handed me a tissue. “Shhh. Come on, beautiful. Don't ruin your makeup,” she said and turned my chair so that she was closer to my face.

I dried my eyes, and she touched up my makeup real quick. “God is a good God, so whatever it is that has happened to you, you still thank Him for life. If it's not terminal, you praise Him for that. It's not over until they bury you six feet under, so you ask God to send you someone who can deal or cope with your imperfections. It didn't end for you with your ex. Do you hear me?” she said.

I smiled and nodded. “Yes. I guess you are right.”

“Come on, gorgeous. Look at you. You are what? Five-seven? With long, beautiful legs. And you're slim, and you got junk back there. Your hair is banging. You are a ten. Someone will love you again. This, I know.”

I stood and looked in the mirror, admiring myself. “I do look good, don't I?”

“You do, so go home, put on something sexy, and just enjoy you. I mean, that's what I'd do if I was single.”

“Hey, it's early. I have a restaurant. I'd love it if you'd join me tonight. I just want to celebrate my new look. I mean, if you don't have plans.”

“I'd love to.” Andrea smiled.

I gave her the address of the restaurant and then headed out. I climbed in my car and checked my rearview mirror five times before I pulled off. I was gorgeous and could attract any man with my new look, but who'd want me? I was a walking infection.

Looking up from the front desk when I heard my apartment door shut, I caught a glimpse of Ana, my eldest, trying to breeze by without me seeing her outfit.

“I'm sorry. Can you hold please?” I put the caller on hold before he agreed to be placed on hold. “Hold it. Where are your clothes? What the hell are you wearing?” I asked my teen.

“Mom, it's the latest style. I don't want to go out looking like a nerd. Enriquez is going to be there.”

“I don't care who is going to be there, Ana. You go and put some real pants on, and not those see-through tights. And that fake belly ring needs to be thrown out. Have some self-respect. You're only seventeen,” I griped.

“And soon I'll be eighteen and won't have to listen to you,” she snapped back.

“And then you can get out of
mi casa
. Now, go and change, or you will stay home!” I ordered.

My oldest daughter was a pain in my bottom. She was driving me crazy. I was a single mother of two now, because my husband—well, now my ex-husband—was in prison for doing every illegal thing under the sun that you could name. I just prayed my youngest daughter, Angelica, didn't follow in her big sister's footsteps. Ever since her daddy went to prison, Ana had been flipping out on me, and I was at my wit's end.

I remembered then that I had someone on hold.

“I am so sorry, sir. Thanks for holding. How can I help you?”

I took care of my guest and then waited for Ana to come back down. When she did, she had changed clothes, but she had a bigger bag than the last time.

“You must think I'm stupid or something. What's in that bag, Ana?”

“Clothes. I've decided I'll stay with Enriquez tonight.”

I thought my Puerto Rican ears were playing tricks on me, because I knew damn well my underage kid didn't just tell me she had decided she'd stay at her boyfriend's house.

“Qué?”

“I'm going to stay at Enriquez's, Mom, and you can't stop me.”

“Ana, estas loca?”

“No, Mama, I haven't lost my mind. I need a break from this place, and I'm tired of being here. Why can't I just live my life?”

My heart was broken, and I was saddened. I only did what I thought was best for my girls, but Ana was out of control, and I was tired. “Ana, I'm tired. If you wanna go, go, but don't come back. I will not have a disobedient child who doesn't respect me in my house, so if you think you are grown enough to tell me that you are going to stay someplace I don't permit, go and don't come back to this place,” I said, pointing to my own chest. My eyes welled up. I had done all I could for her, but I had to let go, because I was tired of battling with her.

“Fine!” she yelled and stormed back inside the apartment. I assumed she had gone back for more of her things, but I no longer had the fight in me to argue.

I sighed and went into my office. I was fortunate to have my job. When José got locked up, we lost our house. I had worked my way up from housekeeping to general manager at the hotel where I worked, and God had stepped in and blessed me with a job that gave us a free place to live. My two daughters and I lived in the spacious manager's quarters at the hotel. After sixteen years of hard work, I had done something on my own, and I didn't want any more stress or heartache.

Ana had graduated from high school, by the grace of God, and was a couple of months from her eighteenth birthday. I had had her when I was fourteen, and after all the hard years, I was still here, doing my best. I just had to let go.

After twenty minutes, she came down with a packed bag.

“Mama, I'm sorry, but it's time for me to go.”

“Good luck, child. Que Dios te bendiga ,” I said, giving her my blessing. I couldn't hold on to her anymore.

“Bye.” She sniffled, and then she was gone.

I dried my eyes and asked God to strengthen me. I loved my baby girl, but she and I bumped heads, and she needed to get a dose of reality.

After I finished my shift, I sat and ate with Angelica and explained that Ana was moving out. She was fifteen and smart, so she didn't have a lot of questions.

Not tired, I decided to shower and go out for a drink. I went to a restaurant that my girlfriend Samantha owned not far from my hotel, but I was shocked when I laid eyes on her. She looked like a new person. Her makeover had made her look amazing, like a brand new person.

“Oh,
chica
, you look fabulous. What happened to the bun?” I said.

“I needed a change.”

“Well, you look beautiful. I mean, you don't look like you at all.”

Raising a brow at my words, she said, “Gee, thanks.”

“No, no, I don't mean it in a bad way. I always thought that you were attractive,
chica
, but now you are hot.”

She came around from behind the bar and sat next to me on a vacant stool.

“Well, I went to the salon today and just went for it. I feel good.”

“You should, because you look good,” I said.

“Oh, there is Andrea.” She waved a woman over. “She is responsible for this makeover.”

“Maybe she can hook me up too, ya know?” I had a heavy Spanish accent, even though I had been in the United States for years. I still spoke Spanish on a daily basis to my Spanish-speaking staff and my family.

“Come join us,” Samantha said. “I'm not working tonight. I'm relaxing.”

“Are you sure, Samantha? I don't want to impose.”

“Come on, Josie. You're not imposing.”

We grabbed a table. When Andrea made her way over to the table, Samantha introduced us.

“Josie, this is Andrea. Andrea, this is my friend Josie.”

“Nice to meet you.” I smiled.

“You too.”

“Can you make me look like Sam?” I blurted. I wanted a makeover too.

Andrea nodded. “I certainly can. She looks amazing, doesn't she?”

“Oh yes. I could hardly recognize her,” I said.

The three of us engaged in nonstop conversation. We got acquainted with Andrea, and I learned some new things about Samantha. I ate at her restaurant often, and she sent business my way, but we had never had an actual sit-down meal together. We drank and ate a lot. I could walk to my hotel afterward, but since Andrea and Sam had to drive home, we ordered coffee to sober up a little before heading out. Sam didn't live far from the restaurant, and I learned that Andrea lived about ten miles away from our area.

“It was so nice to meet you, Andrea, and I have your card. I'll be calling you tomorrow for sure for an appointment,” I said, standing.

“Yes, ma'am, and you ladies take it easy. I have your numbers, and as soon as I make it home, I will text you both,” Andrea said as she and Samantha both stood.

We departed, and when I got back to the hotel, I went straight to my bed. As soon as I shut my eyes, my phone alerted me that I had a text. I knew Andrea couldn't have gotten home that fast. I grabbed my phone. It was Ana.

Damn!
I was too tired to move, but I had to go and get my grown baby.