Chapter 26
Turned out, there weren’t all that many jobs for a waitress old enough to need higher than junior wages, that would also fit in around my classes and was accessible by public transport. I put in my resume at a few places, and the utter lack of response could have been due to some kind of glut of wait-staff, or it could have been lack of references.
I was a bit disappointed though. After the kindness he showed me the day I was fired, I thought Seth would at least have vouched for me if someone called. Maybe they just weren’t calling for some reason.
Two weeks to the day after I was sacked from the café, I found out what that reason was.
Michelle had called me and asked me to stop by. I’d been kind of avoiding her since I bailed out on her as a hair model, and then there were my conflicted feelings about her twin brother. I hoped it was just that she missed me and wanted me to make her coffee, and not that she was going to tear me a new one. Like most of the girls around, Michelle was one tough chick when she had her blood up. I’d once seen her lay out a guy at the club who shoved his hand up her skirt as she squeezed past on the way to the bar. He was a big beefy dude, but Michelle grabbed his head, and reefed it down as she brought her knee up. Bang, crunch, blood everywhere and him lying on the floor like road-kill, absolutely out for the count. Michelle told me later, after she’d stopped shaking, that he’d jabbed up so hard between her legs with an open hand, his fingers had poked a hole in her stockings. I understood then, the fury and violence of her response, even if I remained shocked by it.
But if she was after me, I might as well get it over with. She’d find me sooner or later.
The salon door had a closed sign showing in the door, but I ignored that and just pushed it open. All the usual stinks, peroxide and shampoo and colour-fixer and slightly overheated hair hit my nose, but over the top of that was the rich scent of espresso. Michelle must have learned how to make her own coffee.
‘Hey,’ she said, perched on a stool over by the window. ‘Lock the door will ya? I don’t want to get interrupted.’
I stopped and looked at her, and she stared at me blankly for a long moment then cackled laughter. ‘Look at you! As white as the walls. Don’t worry, I’m not about to kick your skinny arse for breaking my brother’s heart. About time somebody did, seeing as he’s spent most of his life doing the heart-breaking. Might make him grow up and realise he’s not God’s gift after all.’
I locked the door and walked slowly across the unusually smeary floorboards, noticing that there was still hair in drifts below the counters, a pile swept up near the basins but not yet removed, the broom obviously abandoned where it was leaning against the wall. There were wet towels draped in the sink, bowls sitting unwashed on a trolley with gluggy applicators still in them. I looked more closely at Michelle, sitting on her stool with her shoes kicked off and a takeaway coffee cup in her hand. Not only had she obviously not had time to make her own coffee, but things must be dire if the salon was in this state. And she looked, frankly, like crap.
‘You look like you’ve been busy.’
‘I look like shit,’ she said tiredly. ‘I can see you’re thinking it.’
‘I was thinking tired.’
‘Still shit at lying, too. Come and pull up a pew. I should offer you a coffee but I’m too stuffed, help yourself if you want one.’
‘Nah, I’m good.’ I dropped my bag on the floor and hopped up on the next stool. Giving my butt a wiggle to spin the stool, I jammed the soles of my runners over the footrest and used my feet to spin it some more. So I’m still a bit of a kid, sue me.
‘So how are you, really?’ I asked her.
‘Pregnant.’
I stopped the stool so fast my body had to take half a rotation to catch up, and I gave myself a bit of a head spin. ‘Holy crap.’
‘I know.’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘Ah, now that I don’t know.’
I restarted my stool. ‘Are you going to have it?’
‘Of course. And stop spinning that stool, it’s making me dizzy.’
I sat quietly, and twirled a lock of hair around my finger, contemplating. Michelle leaned forward and twitched it out of my fingers, casting a critical glance over the ends.
‘You need a trim.’
‘I guess so — ow!’ Michelle had slapped me one on the arm. Even through my jacket, it smarted.
‘Don’t argue with me about hair.’ She put her palm on the top of my head, and pulled a face. ‘You’ve been using supermarket shampoo, haven’t you?’
‘Um, yeah.’
‘I thought I taught you better than that? No wonder your hair looks as limp as the tails on a bunch of drowned cats. Over to the basin, now.’
‘Michelle, no, really, it’s fine.’
‘Don’t argue with me. Pregnant lady. Hormonal.’
I slid off the stool hesitantly. ‘I can’t afford a haircut, Michelle, or shampoo. I haven’t got a job at the moment.’
‘I heard about it. Basin. Now. You can sweep the floors and help me tidy up for payment, if you feel you really have to.’
‘OK, sure,’ I said, feeling happier about it. I settled into a seat at the basin, and couldn’t resist a happy sigh. I’d got used to having well cared-for hair, and since I’d been avoiding Michelle my hair had been suffering. And I had been too, I realised. I’d missed Michelle, and not just the free hair care. I missed being able to pop in and say hi or make her coffees or give her a hand when she was swamped. I’d missed being able to moan to her about what a dick my boyfriend was being even when that boyfriend was also her brother.
‘I’ve missed you,’ I said, and heat immediately flushed my face. Wow, that was sappy.
‘Me too,’ Michelle said, as she hit my hair with a warm spray of water from the nozzle, and soaked it thoroughly. I smelled the familiar floral, grassy scent of the salon shampoo and then Michelle was lathering my head, fingers working it deep into the roots of my hair, and I could feel my body growing heavier and looser in the chair. It felt more like coming home than home ever did.
Michelle shampooed twice and rinsed. She worked conditioner into my hair and then her strong fingers got to work, massaging my scalp.
‘How’s the job hunting going?’
I opened my eyes, not that surprised to realise I’d almost dozed off. I hadn’t exactly been sleeping well. I was mostly caught up with my homework, though. I guess that was an upside of my love life and my job prospects both being ruined for ever.
‘About as bad as job hunting can get,’ I said, blinking. I swallowed a yawn, and wriggle up a little bit higher, realised I’d slumped down so far the basin was digging into the back of my skull.
‘Yeah, I thought so.’
I knew what that tone meant. ‘What have you heard?’
‘The word seems to be out to all the cafes and restaurants you’d expect to find work at, that you were arrested and charged with B&E.’
I sat up, hair slimy with conditioner slithering out of the bowl and hitting my back with a wet splat.
‘What? That’s so wrong, I wasn’t ever charged.’
‘You know that, and we know that, but you can hardly blame employers for taking it as gospel and not investigating. It’s not like there’s a shortage of waiters out there. Sit back, before you get a mess everywhere.’ Michelle lifted my hair and I sank back against the basin, fuming.
‘That’s so unfair. No wonder I don’t even get a call to say no thanks or we’ve got nothing now but we’ll keep your resume. Shit. I’m never going to get a job now.’
‘Well, not around the city, no. You might have to start looking closer to home.’
‘There aren’t exactly a shitload of cafes around here, in case you hadn’t noticed.’
‘Oh, I noticed. I haven’t had a decent coffee since you buggered off with the East side shag.’
‘East side shag? You don’t mean Sebastien?’
‘Well, yeah, unless there’s s
ome other rich dude you’ve been banging?’
‘No. One was enough.’
‘So you did sleep with him.’
‘Once. Then he dumped me.’
Michelle sighed and I heard water whooshing out of the nozzle again.
‘Men are such pricks,’ she said, and started rinsing.
‘What about your guy?’
‘What guy?’
‘Uh, didn’t you mention you were pregnant?’
‘Oh, that. Hmm. I’m not sure if he’s going to turn into a prick. I haven’t told him yet.’
‘Why not?’
‘It’s complicated.’
‘Yeah, so? Tell me.’
Michelle turned off the tap.
‘It’s Troy.’
This time I sat right up and turned around, and she made no move to stop me, despite the water running out of my hair.
‘Troy as in my brother Troy?’
‘Yes. You’re going to be an Auntie.’
I sat there with my mouth hanging open and no words coming out until Michelle dropped a towel over my head and started drying my hair. Then I managed ‘ow’ a couple of times.
‘Say something for God’s sakes. Do you mind?’
‘Why would I mind? Don’t be stupid.’
‘It’s weird though huh?’
‘No,’ I said slowly, wincing when Michelle wrapped my head tight in the towel, pulling my hair back so tight I could feel my eyes tilt up at the corners. I’d forgotten how brisk she could be, and I gave the towel a bit of a tweak to ease the strain on my skin as I followed her over to a chair. ‘I just didn’t even know you were with Troy.’
‘We’re not together. Or, well, sort of. It is a bit weird with you and Jay always being an item.’
‘We aren’t an item anymore.’ Sitting in the chair facing the mirror, I could see Michelle as she slid her little tool belt with all her scissors and combs around her still narrow waist and snapped the clip. I tried to imagine my future niece or nephew floating around in there somewhere but my mind just couldn’t conjure it. I think the problem was that I just couldn’t see her with my brother. Maybe I needed to try harder.
Michelle started combing my wet hair.
‘I told you stripping that colour out was going to dry your hair. I can’t believe you haven’t been taking better care of it. I’m going to have to take at least an inch off, maybe more.’
‘Sorry,’ I said, shrugging. I didn’t care all that much, really. I didn’t need to keep my hair just-so for Michelle’s competitions now and I didn’t have a boyfriend anymore with a hair fixation, so had got out of the habit of bothering. I was smart enough not to say that to Michelle, though. She still had her hair fixation.
Michelle pinched her finger and thumb together and ran it down the lengths of my hair, frowning. ‘Have you been using the bicarb in your shampoo? It’s still looking a tiny bit pinkish back here.’
‘I can’t really see back there. It’s OK, it looks fine.’
‘It’ll look fine after a trim and treatment,’ Michelle corrected me severely, and I hid a grin.
She sectioned my hair and clipped it up and started trimming the back, with that half-frown she always got when she was cutting.
‘Are you happy to be having a baby? I feel like I should say congratulations, or something, but I’m not sure, you don’t seem all excited or anything…’
‘I work twelve hour days, I can’t get another cutter or an apprentice and I keep falling asleep every night at my kitchen table while I try to do my paperwork. Excited is not the right word, no. I want kids, but I didn’t plan on starting now, and not with, well, not with so much work to do.’
She’d been about to say ‘and not with Troy’. I appreciated her trying to turn it into something else, but I knew what she was thinking. I knew her too well for her to fake it with me.
‘I’m not offended you wish Troy hadn’t gotten you pregnant. I’d be surprised if you weren’t sorry.’
‘I’m not. Or, not exactly. There’s something about your brother, always has been. I mean, I know he’s a player. I’m not stupid. I just didn’t plan on this.’
I watched her in the mirror as she stopped cutting for a moment, and wiped her eyes with the back of her wrist. She hadn’t sounded like she was about to cry or anything, but I knew all about faking that. I remembered what Troy had said to me the other day when I came home after staying all night with Sebastien. He’d talked about how much blood mattered; I wonder what would happen now that was going to be really put to the test.
‘You should tell him.’
Michelle looked at me.
‘You really think I should?’
‘You have to tell him sooner or later. Better he hears it soon, and straight, rather than whispers getting to his ears, making him wonder if it’s his or if you’ve been shagging someone else.’
‘Jesus,’ Michelle said, shuddering. ‘That would make it awkward. But I am scared to tell him.’
‘What’s he gonna do, really?’ I said, ‘Worst case, he’ll tell you to fuck off, he doesn’t want anything to do with it.’ But when Michelle pulled a face and went back to combing and cutting without answering, my heart got a little heavy. That wasn’t what she was worried about. That was what she expected him to do, and she was putting off telling him so she could maintain the hope that he would say something different, and surprise her.
‘Oh, Chelle, don’t do that. Don’t put it off because you’re afraid you know what he’ll say. I’ve done that,’ I added, only then realising it was exactly what I’d done with Jay and Sebastien, ‘and it’s a bad idea. Better to know.’
‘I don’t think I want to know.’
‘Yeah you do. And he might surprise you.’ I thought again of what Troy had said about how much blood counted, but I didn’t say anything to Michelle. I knew that would probably be enough of a push to make her talk to him, but I didn’t want to get her hopes up. I knew how crushing it was to finally believe something, only to have it crash down around you.
‘Maybe,’ Michelle said, sounding unconvinced. She drew in a breath, and paid close attention to my hair, pulling down the next section. ‘Anyway that wasn’t exactly what I want to talk to you about. Although it is, sort of.’
‘OK.’ I was a bit mystified.
‘I need help in the salon, and it’s getting pretty desperate now that I’ll soon be busy puking and swelling up and all that stuff that goes with being pregnant. I know you don’t want to be an apprentice, but I know you are looking for work, so I want to offer you a job.’
‘A job? Not an apprenticeship?’
‘Well you could have an apprenticeship if you wanted one, of course, you know I’d love that but I thought you weren’t into it.’
‘I don’t know anymore,’ I said honestly. ‘I have to work and I want to get my HSC, but I don’t know if I can make it into Uni.’ Shit. I’d let it slip out, after all this time keeping it myself.
‘Of course you need to finish school. I can book clients around the times you can be here. I can just put you on as a casual.’
‘I don’t need to be an apprentice?’
‘Nope.’
I kept my head down, thinking, as Michelle’s scissors went snick, snick, snick across my shoulder blades as she trimmed the dead ends off my hair. This was her dream, and she was amazing at it. She’d worked so hard, and now it was only going to get even harder. And I definitely needed a job. I mean, I hadn’t had to be in love with waitressing to do it as a job. I worked hard.
‘Are you sure you want me?’ I asked finally, peering up at her.
‘Head down,’ Michelle said, scissors pausing as she pushed my head firmly back where she wanted it. ‘Of course, I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t mean it.’
‘But a junior would be cheaper.’
‘I’d rather have you. I know you’ll work hard and you won’t steal anything. That’s definitely worth a couple of bucks an hour.’
I didn’t bother asking her if she
was offering me the job as a favour, to help me out. I knew that was part of it, that was the way things worked around here. And yeah, it probably didn’t hurt for me to be working for her when she broke the news to Troy he was going to be a daddy.
‘I’d love to work for you,’ I said.
‘Yay!’ Michelle said, and did a little happy dance butt wriggle. I laughed, and got told off for moving my head, but I could tell she really was happy.
I wasn’t as happy as her, maybe, I couldn’t shake the feeling this was somehow the beginning of a slippery slope I’d been trying to avoid since I was about twelve years old, but I reckon my relief was almost as great as hers. I’d been passed over for a couple of waitressing jobs I knew I should have at least got a call back on, so I’d suspected something had gone wrong. I really hoped the lawyer could get that arrest cancelled out or whatever it was or I was afraid that was going to throw me headfirst down to the bottom, and there’d be no way of climbing back out.
But in the end, the reason I said yes went beyond me needing a job and not being able to get one. It trumped my fears about taking the easy road. I’d seen how that worked out for my mother and brothers and at least, to begin with, my sister. None of that mattered more than Michelle, who had always been my friend no matter what, and who was asking for my help. And now she was going to be part of my family one way or another.
I guess I was more like Troy than I realised; blood really did count.
Chapter 27
I heard the beeper go off on the dryer, and quickly put down the scissors and the foil I was cutting into strips and hurried over to shut the thing off. That noise got to me in a big way, drilling through my head like a burglar alarm. The towels were worth it, though, when I scooped them out, dry and fluffy and so warm.
I buried my arms in them, savouring the quickly fading heat, as I piled them into a basket and carried them over to the counter to roll up ready to go back in the stack. I’d turned the heaters off to save money as soon as the door shut behind the last client of the day. Michelle had gone out practically on their heels, absolutely knackered, and I’d told her to save her apologies about leaving me to tidy up.
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