Chapter 8 Happy Christmas!

Chapter 8

Freda

"Look what I got for Thea's birthday," I said, opening my bag and letting Trench peer in.

"Is that a bedsheet?" Trench asked, staring at the present inside the bag.

"It's a special bedsheet set – the whole thing is like a giant canvas with a drawing on it, and it comes with a whole range of fabric paint to fill it in!"

"Oh, she is going to love that."

"I hope she does. I'm hoping it'll give her something to paint besides our walls."

"Yeah, her bedroom looks like a Jackson Pollock painting."

"Tell me about it." I shut the bag. "I'm just happy she's creative."

"She's a smart kid."

I smiled. "Yeah, she is."

"Hey..." Trench began, flicking my arm to catch my attention. "Is that Devon?"

I looked into the direction she pointed at and saw KenForester's tall figure lounging by the street. "Oh my God, yes it is." I peered at the woman he was talking to."Who is he with?"

"That's Trudy Bishop!" Trench whispered. My eyes widened.

"What?" Trench asked me.

"Trudy is a real estate agent," I said slowly.

"Oh," she said, awkwardly. "I guess he's staying in town then. I get it.– His sister's sick, anyone would stay. Actually, this is- Hey, Hunter, are you alright?"

I couldn't respond. I simply stared at his distant figure, my heart racing. Kenis staying in town? Is he buying an apartment nearby? I bit my lip. My imagined deadline of when I would have to confront him about Thea had just been pushed up.

"Hey." I felt Trench's hand on my shoulder. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay," I assured her, my eyes still on Devon. "I'm perfectly fine. I was just thinking about how- Oh shit! He's coming this way! Let's go, let's go!"

Trench looked flustered. "Hey, we don't have the keys to the salon, remember? We're on our way back to get them."

"Then let's just walk-" I began, turning around, but Trench pulled me back.

"Hunter! You can't just run away from him. Besides, Thea isn't even here. Just relax!"

"Oh, alright," I mumbled, my cheeks flushing slightly at my unexplained overreaction.

Get it together, Hunter. I told myself as I saw him approaching. He looked gorgeous as I remembered, his umber hair billowing in the sunny December morning. His tan overcoat was open, revealing his chiseled chest underneath his shirt. He gave me a smile, and I saw his trademark right cheek dimple.

"Hey, Freda," he said in his deep voice as he approached.

"Hey, Ken," I said, my eyes zeroing in on his emerald gaze. "What are you doing in these parts?"

"Mr. Forester and I are headed to a beautiful sun-soaked apartment in Brownstown," Trudy Bishop chirped, lithe on her feet behind him. She pressed her hands together, her face scrunched up in a proud smirk. "We at Bishop & Markel Real Estate are so excited that someone as successful as Mr. Forester is planning to invest in our town."

I saw Ken roll his eyes and quicken his pace to match mine. "She's got her nose all the way in your ass," I told him in a low voice, walking slowly beside him.

"I'm aware." He gave me a cursory look. "You look good."

I felt my cheeks heat up. "Thanks. So do you."

"That's a surprise. I haven't slept in...oh, three days?"

"Really?"

"Yeah, I spent all of last night trying to put my work in order so I could do everything from here."

"So, you're moving back to Susanville, then?" I asked, the pitch of my voice going up a notch.

"Yeah, I am," He said gruffly, pushing his hands into his pockets. "It'll be weird for a while, but whatever."

"You clearly seem to love it here."

"Do you?" he said, cocking his brow sharply.

I shrugged. "It could be worse. Besides, you should be excited to move back into a town where you're basically revered by the public."

"They don't like me, they like the billionaire."

"Is there a difference?"

"I like to think so." He gave me a sly smile that I couldn't help but return.

"Hmm hmm, excuse me?" Trudy's shrill voice interrupted. She gave me a muted glare. "Mr. Forester and I are really quite busy at the moment, and we must not be late. So, if you'll excuse us!"

"I gotta go," Kensaid, his lips pursing. "It was nice to see you again, Hunter. I'll catch you later?"

"Okay," I said, waving at him with what felt like a moronic smile.

"It was nice seeing you, too, Devon," Trench said, pointedly. He jumped, as if he hadn't noticed her until that moment.

"Oh...hey, Trench.. !" he said awkwardly. "I'll, uh, see you guys around." He walked away with Trudy chattering non-stop behind him. I watched him for a while, biting on my lower lip.

"Wow, I have never felt so invisible," Trench commented. "The boy had eyes only for you."

"Oh shut up," I snapped at her.

"He didn't even see me here!"

"Can we go?" I asked her, trying not to betray my confused reactions towards Kenon my face. I started walking in the direction of my house.

"What is that?" she asked, waving her finger at my face.

"What?"

"Your face."

"What?"

She narrowed her light brown eyes at me. "Hunter. Do you have the hots for Forester?"

I flushed at her accusation. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Because he's a certain someone's baby daddy, you know-"

"Yeah, I haven't forgotten." I rolled my eyes.

"How are you going to tell him?" she asked me.

The dreaded question. The one I didn't want to hear or think about. My pace quickened as I felt that familiar pit of guilt and fear of confrontation sink into my stomach.

"Do I have to tell him?" I asked her pitifully. She knew my question wasn't serious, but answered anyway.

"You know you have to. And, the longer you wait, the more pissed he's going to be."

"I know you're right."

"Then why didn't you just tell him before?" she demanded. I looked up at her, surprised to see her frowning.

"I don't know. The minute I learnt about the pregnancy, I should have told him. But I didn't, and I couldn't do it for the years after that either. I feel guilty about it, but I couldn't help it."

"You mean you couldn't pick up your phone and drop him a text?"

I frowned – her tone was beginning to bother me now.

"I was trying to figure out my life, and maybe it wasn't the smartest decision not to tell him, but I was going through a lot of shit. I did the best I could."

She crossed her arms in front of her. "I just don't think a perfectly decent man should be deprived of the knowledge of his child."

"I don't think so, either."

"Then why didn't you tell him? You ran away from him yesterday, and even now, when you know he's going to live here, you didn't tell him."

I grit my teeth at her. "Maybe this wasn't the moment."

"Maybe you should stop waiting for moments," she said bluntly.

"Are you...pissed at me or something?" I asked, unable to understand her strange vehemence.

"No, I just don't understand you. You could have had his help all along, but you chose to do it the hard way."

That hurt. "If you know so little of me that you think I purposefully orchestrated this mess, then this discussion is pointless."

"It's hardly a discussion." She put her hands on her hips. "You're still not going to tell him, are you?"

"You know what? I don't have to take this," I said, throwing my hands in the air. "I don't know why you're suddenly judging me for all this-"

"It's not sudden, Hunter!" she admitted. "You should have told him right in the beginning, but I thought, hey, no New York hotshot would want to be tied down in Susanville with a baby, so maybe that's why you didn't try. But he's gonna live here now. And, if you're going to make googly eyes and peppy conversation with him, you're gonna have to tell him the truth first."

"When did you turn from a supportive friend into a self-righteous scolder?"

"When you started acting like a bitch."

I gaped at her. I couldn't believe Trench just said that to me. "I think I'm going to go get the key by myself," I told her, quickening my pace so as to leave her behind.

"Fine! Go! Run away from confrontation!" she yelled from behind me. I didn't slow down, but I kept an ear out to see if she followed. After about five minutes of walking, I finally dared to turn around.

She wasn't there.

I was in a ludicrously foul mood by the time I reached home. The keys fumbled in my hands as I jammed them in absentmindedly, my thoughts running on an entirely different tangent.

Trench and I hadn't fought like that in years. I wanted to be rational and hear her out, but the problem was that the things she was saying to me were the exact thoughts that kept me awake at night. It was too hard to hear them out loud from someone I was so close to and not turn defensive.

My boots smacked against the floor as I made my way indoors. I put my bags to the side and walked down the hallway, heading straight into the living room. The glow of the television illuminated Thea's face where she sat so close to it that her nose was almost touching the screen.

"Thea, how many times have I told you not to sit so close to the TV?" I asked.

She jumped back, looking sheepish. "Sorry, Mom. Why are you back so soon?"

"Trench forgot the salon keys," I said, rummaging around in my drawer to find my extra set. "Where's Nana?"

"She's taking her lunch nap."

"Alright, sweetie," I said, huffing. "I gotta go."

"Wait – Mom!"

"Yeah?"

"Can I come with you to work?"

I leaned against the door. "Why?"

"Nana's asleep, and I'm bored."

"Isn't Rudolph on?"

"I've already seen it."

I bit my lip. Kenwas in the area and I wasn't sure I wanted him to see Thea just yet. "What about all the books Nana brought you?"

She rolled her eyes, blowing a blonde lock away from her face, "It's Christmas! I want to go out!"

"It'll be really busy, sweetie. Maybe next time, okay?"

"Mom!" she protested, stomping her feet. "Take me with you – please, please!"

"Thea, no begging!"

She looked up at me with giant, watery green eyes. "Please, Mommy."

Damn this girl. "Fine," I said, grabbing her tiny coat off the rack and scribbling a note about having her with me. "Let's get going."

"Yay!" she chirped, bouncing around excitedly. "Can I get a candy bar?"

"Wow, your requests are just endless today," I said, grabbing her hand and stepping out of the house. She tottered along behind me, her thick navy coat making her sunny blonde hair stand out. Thea loved to spend time outdoors, and I didn't have the heart to hold her back.

Besides, no matter what I said to her, Trench was right. I had waited too long to do something way too important. If Kensaw her, so be it. If he questioned me, I would tell him the truth. But I wasn't ready to mention it myself, and that was the state of things as they were. I had no time to act foolish and brood over life anymore. I had a little bundle of joy that needed me here. And here, I would be. I grabbed her tiny hand and marched out into the December sun.

The walk back to the salon was uneventful. My eyes watched out for Devon's figure the whole way, darting from street to street. I breathed a sigh of relief when the salon's rusty red sign came into view. I scooped Thea up in my arms and rushed toward it. The day had suddenly turned overcast in a matter of a few minutes and I was eager to get Thea into the heated building.

A small crowd stood before the salon, and I recognized a few of our regular Christmas time customers and of course, Ingrid. She gave me a muted look when she saw me, then her eyes travelled south and her face brightened when she saw Thea's face.

"Oh, hi, sweetie!" Trench cooed, spreading her arms open invitingly. Thea let go of my hand and ran toward her aunt, who scooped her up and swung her in a semi-circle before tucking her under her arm. "Happy Christmas, girl."

"Happy Christmas, Ingrid," she said, tugging at her hair.

"You look cold!"

Thea's nose was indeed reddening. I quickly jammed the keys into the door and clicked it open, letting the people trail inside. Thea shoved herself out of Ingrid's arms and raced towards her favorite spot on the couch, plucking a magazine and plopping it down on her lap.

My eyes travelled to Ingrid's and we made some rather awkward eye contact. "Why did you bring her?" she asked me.

I shrugged. "She wanted to come."

"And, what if Ken sees her?"

"She doesn't wear a sign that says 'I'm your kid, Devon.'"

She pursed her lips. "That's true. That blonde hair is exactly like his, though. It can be quite telling."

I let my face crumple into a whiny grimace. "Maybe I'm hoping her hair will tell him, and I don't have to do it."

Concern glazed Ingrid's eyes. She opened her mouth to speak to me, but one of our customers called from the back, "Hey, can we get going? We gotta get ready for the Christmas Sundance."

Ah, the Christmas Sundance.

Trench gave me a look that I knew meant "talk later." The Christmas Sundance was an annual party hosted by Tom Waits, the town's most iconic "professional party thrower" – I think they liked to call themselves socialites. The only reason we didn't mind the extra Christmas shift was the generous tipping mood the town's women got into when they wanted to dress to impress.

I walked over to the register so I could begin to write down the various treatments the customers were looking for. Even for Sundance night, the list was quite long, and I could see that Trench and I were going to have our hands full for several hours.

The main door of the salon swung open and a man and a woman walked inside. The man looked very familiar, as though I had seen him several times before, but I couldn't quite place him. The woman, however, I recognized instantly. Amalia Forester's skinny and weakened face was framed by the same silken blonde locks that used to sit on her brother's head. And now, they sat on my daughter's. I threw a nervous glance in Thea's direction before turning to look back at them.

The man with Amalia definitely seemed to know me from somewhere because recognition crossed his face when his eyes met mine. He gave me a toothy smile and walked over to the register.

"Hey, I'm Felix."

"Felix Baker. I remember you," I said.

"Vaguely?" he asked me, grinning good naturedly.

"I'll admit to it," I said, grinning back. "How are you doing today, Amalia?"

She smiled at me and walked forward. "I'm doing great, Hunter. How have you been?"

"Oh, the usual. Just running a Christmas shift-" Thea had run up to Amalia without me even noticing and was now bouncing around her feet excitedly. "Thea, settle down!" I told her.

"Mommy, she has the same hair as me!" she yelped, clapping excitedly. "It's so pretty."

Amalia smiled at her. "Aw, she's just adorable. She's yours, right?"

"Yes, she is. Thank you," I said, tightly.

"Well, it's too bad she likes my hair," Amalia said, shrugging. "I'm here to have it shaved off."

"What– Oh," I said, realizing what she was asking us to do. I threw her a wary glance. "Are you sure?"

She nodded resolutely, her eyes like steel. "It's time."

"And...you want it all gone?"

"All of it."

I nodded mutely, unsure of what I was supposed to say. I wanted to offer her a word of comfort, but I wasn't sure if that would make her feel better or worse about her decision.

Felix held her arm and pulled her backward. "Hey, Amalia, wait a minute."

Something tugged at my jeans. I looked down to see Thea's large blue eyes staring up at me with open curiosity, "Who is she?"

Your aunt. "She's a friend's sister."

I could see Amalia and Felix silently discussing the matter, their arms gesturing more and more as the conversation progressed. "Is she going to remove all her hair?" Thea asked me.

"Yes."

"Why?"

She's sick, and she's losing her hair, so she wants to shave it all off in one go? That seemed too oversimplified an explanation of the emotional trauma of going through cancer, and I chose to deflect the question with the one statement that made Thea glare at me and not talk to me for a couple of hours, each time.

"I can't tell you now," I told her. "You'll understand when you're older."

True to form, she gave me her dirtiest look and stalked away to the couch, her magazine clutched tight in her hands. I felt bad for subverting her questions, but I didn't want to cause long-lasting damage with some flippant explanation of the most complex issues of life during rush hour.

I decided to step in to the heated discussion Felix and Amalia were still having. I navigated my way between them, and they stopped talking as I approached. Amalia looked apologetic.

"I'm so sorry, Hunter, we're going to decide soon-" she began.

"Oh, that's okay," I said, waving my hand. "You take your time to decide. It's just... You're not the first person I know who's come here to do this, and maybe I could help you make the decision easier?"

"Okay," she mumbled, unsurely, twisting her fingers together. "Why don't I tell you the reason why I wanted to do it, and you tell me if it checks out?"

I nodded.

She took a deep breath, steadying herself. Her eyes rose up to Felix's, who looked pained and tense. She held her head high and spoke, "I'm sick, Felix. Most of the time I can hold myself together, and I have, all these days. But you know what makes me feel really sick?" She stuck her fingers into her blonde locks and pulled them out, a chunk of hair easily breaking off and trailing out onto the floor. "This. This makes me feel sick. And, I want it to stop."

I tried not to be affected by the sight of Amalia's hair coming out, but it was the most disheartening sight I had ever seen. I nodded at her. "Your reason checks out."

"But what if you..." Felix sighed, exhaustedly, "Look, I understand if this is what you want to do. I just didn't want you to look into the mirror and see someone sick."

Amalia shrugged her thin shoulders. "I already do. This is happening. No point letting it happen in parts."

"You should at least tell Devon."

"He won't understand. He wants me to pretend everything is okay."

Felix looked so saddened by her grief, I wanted to reach out and give a hug to them both. I raised my hands in the air, as though I were trying to offer them some invisible consolation. "There's absolutely no rush guys, take your time if you want to talk it out more."

"No, I don't!" Amalia protested sharply, her face crumpled in an acute wince. "I want to do it now."

I gave her a silent, grim look of support. "Okay, then."

Amalia nodded at the ground, her eyes clouded by her mind's turbulent thoughts as she walked over to a nearby chair and sat down. I pulled the shavers out of the closet and connected them to the switch board. The buzzing sound they made when they turned on was louder than we expected, and Amalia's eyes met mine in the mirror. She looked scared.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" I asked her, one last time.

She nodded at me. "Yes, yes I do. Shave it all off, Hunter."

I pressed the buzzing tip of the shaver on her scalp and gently pulled it across her skull. Her hair fell off easily in thin blonde wisps onto the floor. The colour was exactly like Thea's, and I felt my throat close up tight around the lump that rose in it.

"Felix, what are you doing?" Amalia suddenly cried. I looked up in his direction and saw him standing in front of a mirror, a razor in his hands, held high against his hair. He threw Amalia a smile and pulled the buzzer back in one long swipe, cleaning his hair out in one smooth line.

"Felix!" she yelped.

"What?" he asked, shrugging, continuing to shave off bits of his hair. "I'm just trying a new style."

Amalia's eyes watered with gratitude at her friend's gesture. Her fingers wrapped tightly around her chair as I went around her head, cleaning and trimming out all the sunny blonde hair that had accompanied her all her life. Her scalp was smooth and bony underneath.

As I put the finishing touches on the nape of her neck, clearing out the spare hairs, Amalia straightened in her seat, her eyes glued to the person she saw in the mirror before her. I gently brushed the stray hair off her shoulders and removed the apron she wore around her neck.

"Woah," she breathed, staring at her form in the mirror. "I look nothing like me."

"No, you don't," Felix agreed, sitting down on the chair next to her. His head was completely shaved, as well. He reached