All the Dark Places(66)
A box of dark brown hair color sits on the edge of the tub, and I eye it suspiciously. When I was young, my mother and her friends used to dye their hair every six weeks like clockwork. They’d sit in the kitchen on a Saturday afternoon with coffee and cigarettes, shoo us kids outside, and perform the ritual. They’d sit like statues, heads glistening with stinky goo.
I want to think I’m not that vain, but maybe I am. When my mom was my age, she looked old. By then, she’d let the grays win and cut off her hair, wearing it in a neat, curled cap like all the other old ladies she knew. Like you had no choice. The calendar said you were old, so fall in line.
I’ve kept my hair long, still enjoy wearing makeup, but I’ve been distracted lately and have let myself go a little. My exercise bike sits in the corner, covered with clothes like an extension of my closet. I usually use it three or four times a week and lift hand weights besides to stay slim and toned. But I’ve slacked off lately. I pick up the box, peruse the directions. I can probably pedal while the dye is doing its thing on my head.
*
My doorbell rings. Shit. I’ve got ten minutes left before it’s time to rinse. The bell rings again, and I jump off my bike, sweat running down my chest, soaking my sports bra.
I look through the peephole. “What d’you want, Collin?” I ask through the door.
“Reet? Open the door. I’ve got dinner.”
“Leave it on the mat. I’ll get it in a minute.”
“Why? Do you have a man in there?”
“No.”
“It’s eggplant parm.”
I flip the lock. “Okay, fine. Come in.”
He gives me a sideways glance as he walks past me. “Why didn’t you call my stylist? I gave you his card. Those box colors are really harsh, Rita.”
I draw a deep breath. “This was quicker.”
He wiggles his eyebrows. “Have you talked to Leo? He’s been visiting his mother quite a bit lately.”
“No. I was just getting tired of looking at myself, Collin.” My phone timer goes off. “I gotta get in the shower.”
“Say no more. I’ll preheat the oven for you and put this in the fridge.”
“You’re a pal, Collin.” I smile as I head to the bathroom.
CHAPTER 49
Molly
WHEN THE MOVIE ENDS, I GET UP AND RUN A BRUSH THROUGH MY hair and grab Sadie’s leash. We head to the hotel’s restaurant, and I order dinner. There’s hardly anyone here since it’s January. The holidays are over. It’s the dead of winter. It suits me.
A couple of businessmen sit at a table in the center of the room, and that’s it. Sadie and I are snugged into a corner table. She sits patiently next to me while I eat grilled salmon and string beans, a healthy meal to make up for the bag of cookies. Afterward, Sadie and I go for a quick walk, and I’m freezing since I forgot to bring my jacket with me when I came down for dinner.
When we get back to the room, I close the curtains as the town’s lights flicker below. I look at my phone. No messages. Corrine is respecting my need to disappear, but I call her anyway.
“How are you, Molly?” I hear concern in her voice, barely tamped below her words.
“I’m fine, really. Sadie and I just went for a walk. Now I’m going to stretch out on the bed and watch another movie.” I feel prickles of guilt.
Corrine blows out a breath. “Good. Relax. When are you coming back?”
“Probably Thursday. Not sure.”
“Okay. Stay safe.”
“I will.”
“You’re feeling okay, right?”
“Yes. I’m fine. Don’t worry. I’ll be back soon.”
“You’ll call me if you need to talk?”
“Promise.”
I hear the reluctance to let go in her voice as we say our goodbyes and end the call.
I go through my suitcase and hang up my clothes for tomorrow. I should’ve done it sooner. If the wrinkles don’t fall out, I’ll have to drag out the iron. The online instructions listed a dress code to make sure people don’t show up looking like hookers, I guess. No chance of that for me. I brought my most business-like clothes, not exactly a power suit, but the closest I have—gray pants, a white cotton blouse, and a black blazer.
I double-check that the door is locked. Take a look around the room and bathroom, open the closet door. I put on my pajamas and get into bed. Thoughts, scenarios of what tomorrow might bring, swirl through my brain, and it’s difficult to shut them off. One of my therapists when I was in college was big on relaxation exercises. Close your eyes, clear your mind, and imagine each part of your body, each muscle tensing, then letting go. I dutifully tried her techniques every night before going to sleep, with little success in actually relaxing, but I still do them sometimes. I try now, hoping to banish thoughts of tomorrow as I work from one muscle to the next.
My phone vibrates next to me and startles me awake. The room is dark, and my phone’s screen seems to pulse in the night. UNKNOWN C ALLER. I glance at Sadie, but she’s sleeping contentedly, no bad guys lurking, I hope. Just some sicko who’s getting a thrill out of scaring me. I turn off the phone, shudder, and stick it under a pillow.
CHAPTER 50
Rita