The New Husband(40)
“You’re simply going to have to adjust,” Nina said, taking a stricter tone. “I have a lot on my plate already, but I thank you for your love and support.”
“Always,” Simon responded. “And I’m sure by now they’ve figured out how lucky they are to have you.”
At the completion of her workday, she was overwhelmed with a strange mix of elation, exhaustion, and dread.
Listen to Simon. To Rona. You’ve got this! You’ll do just fine.
Nina walked to her car, the last one left in the parking lot. She felt buoyed from her private pep talk and ready to let her hairdresser, Derek, do his magic. This time she’d have it styled to Simon’s exact specifications, because deep down she did not entirely believe that exhaustion was to blame for his never-happened-before impotence.
Hair emergencies and quick alterations were Derek’s specialty, and he accommodated her as she’d hoped he would. At the salon, he studied the picture Nina had taken with her cell phone camera and went to work on those bangs first, taking them from chopped to straight in no time. Next, he attacked the sides to make the hair look swept forward, a feat he accomplished with the help of enough hair spray to hold the style in a hurricane, and he adjusted the length as well. It was far more hair maintenance than Nina desired, but she figured she’d try out the look for a little while.
Derek was finishing up, lathering on effusive praise as he lathered in some leave-in conditioner, when Simon called for the seventh time that day. Nina took the call, answering with a bit of an attitude. “Yes, Simon,” she said, wondering what he could possibly want now.
“Sorry to bother you again,” he said, “but there’s a problem.”
“Problem” was an understatement.
Nina drove home with a dark cloud above her head. How dare Maggie! How could she? Maggie was never this child. She was never in trouble at school. She was never disobedient, mouthy, or moody, or difficult in any way. But then Nina shifted her thinking as she remembered some basic truths: her daughter’s age, her trauma, the new man in their lives, and how confusing this must be for her. Even so, Maggie was old enough to know better than to play with guns.
When Nina reached home she was a lot calmer, and with time in transit to process her feelings, she felt ready to confront Maggie without blowing a gasket. Connor, football in hand, stood in the driveway chatting with Simon, who looked calmer than expected. As she exited her car, Nina was taken aback by the strange looks she got from both of them. Then she remembered her hair.
“You like it?” she asked.
“Looks good. But why the change?” Connor asked, tossing the football a few feet in the air before catching it one-handed.
“Thought I could spruce it up a bit more,” Nina said, knowing only Simon would fully understand.
She caught the bewildered look in Simon’s eyes as he approached.
“Well,” she said, noting the drip of apprehension seeping into her voice. Does it look awful? “Do you like it?”
She twirled, albeit a bit nervously, when Simon didn’t answer right away.
“I … I…”
Simon gawked at her as though she were some exotic being, a nymph, something otherworldly.
“It seems I’ve rendered you speechless,” Nina said. “Not exactly the reaction I was going for.”
“You look … you look amazing,” Simon finally managed.
Nina’s whole face lit up at the compliment. “Really?” she said, twirling once more, lighter on her feet, all but forgetting what Maggie had done.
Simon came closer, pulled her into an embrace, a hug that felt imperative, and whispered in her ear, “Absolutely amazing.” He pressed against her and she felt him come to life. “Can I make it up to you tonight?” he said, and she got the subtext right away.
“Hmmm,” Nina answered, stepping back, shooting Simon a coy look that all but said Invitation accepted. “Where is the accused?”
“I don’t think there’s much question of her guilt,” Connor chimed in. “Has she been tested for a concussion?”
“You stay out of this,” Nina said, giving Connor’s muscled shoulder a squeeze as she marched past him, heading up the walkway—which, she absently noted, had no weeds growing between the paving stones. Simon, with his fastidious nature, wouldn’t allow them to grow, leaving Nina grateful that he had inherited some good traits from his overbearing father.
She strode into the house and found Daisy there in the foyer, greeting her with a wagging tail and playful kisses as though Nina had been gone for years. In a way, it felt like she had been gone that long. Her body was completely fatigued, and she wondered how long it would take to adjust to the mental gymnastics of the workday. Nina paused to give Daisy some much-appreciated attention before trekking off upstairs in search of her daughter, believing Maggie’s bedroom would be the most logical hideout.
“Hey there,” Nina said at the sight of Maggie, who was seated at her small desk by the windows overlooking the backyard, a schoolbook splayed open in front of her.
“You cut your hair again,” Maggie said, after turning in her chair to greet her mother.
“Thanks for noticing,” Nina said.
“I liked it better before,” said Maggie.
“Thanks for the honesty.” Nina’s tone implied thanks for nothing, but her annoyance went away when she sat on Maggie’s bed, taking in all the familiar sights and smells of youth, toys replaced with trinkets, all of it serving as reminders that this was a girl with more on her plate than most adults could handle. “So, what am I supposed to do with you?” Nina said as she shrugged her shoulders.