Four Makes One (Book 1)(Completed)

Chapter 12 - My Day With Ronnie

Frankie

The guys walk us into the salon, I guess to make sure that we'll be safe while they are gone? I don't know. But they stop at the receptionist desk on the way out and talk to the person in the front. We are lead back to a room and the lady tells us to get undressed and to get on the table. I look over at Ronnie and she's getting undressed.

"We have to get naked to get our nails and toes done?" I ask.

"No. I didn't tell you. The guys set us up for everything. We are starting off with a massage, then our nails, and then we can get something done to our hair if we want to."

"Why are they doing this for me?" I start to get undressed.

"I'm sure they have already told you. They care about you and want you to be happy." She climbs on the table, lying face down and pulling the towel from around her front and draping it over the sides of the table while still covering her back area.

I copy her and climb on the table, "They don't have to do all of this for me. They can just tell me and I'll believe them."

She turns her head out of the hole and looks at me, "I know that you haven't been around much, so I'm going to tell you this. Caring isn't just about telling, it's about showing. A man, or anyone for that matter, can tell you that they care about you all day long, but if they don't show you, it's just words. A real man will show as well as tell and that's what the guys are doing."

I consider what she says, "Do they think I need to change my hair?"

"Nooo," she draws it out, "They just heard you say that you needed to buy some purple dye to touch up your hair, so they gave you the option of getting it done here. I need a trim, so I'm going to take advantage of it."

Anything else that I may have wanted to say was cut off because the masseuses walk inside and started our massages.

My bones are like jelly when they finish. It's all I can do to get off of the table and take myself to the hair salon. After consulting with the hairdresser and assured that she could match the purple already in my hair, I let her start. While our hair is being done, our manicures and pedicures are being taken care of also. I pick a purple that matches my hair and eyes and sit back enjoying the treatment.

"Your hair is naturally that blonde?" Ronnie says.

"Yep. I took after my grandmother," I sit up a little and look at her so I can see her face, "How old are you?"

"I'm twenty-one. I know what you are wondering. I got pregnant when I was sixteen. When my so-called boyfriend found out, he took off. My parents found him and told him that he had a choice. He could either go to jail for statutory rape or he could pay child support until Amy turned eighteen or graduated from college. So I get a check every month from him to take care of my daughter."

"How old was he?" I ask.

"He was twenty-three at the time. He was actually the coach and gym teacher at my school," her eyes get wistful, "From the first day of school that year, he paid special attention to me. He was so handsome. All of the other girls were so jealous of me."

The tech finishes her nails, so she turns fully in my direction, "He would keep me after class and we would talk and eventually, he kissed me and we would fool around and started having sex. He was the first guy that I ever had sex with. I was so in love."

The hair stylist leads us over to the wash bowls and wash the dye out of my hair and the deep condition out of hers. They lead us back over to the chairs and give us both a quick trim before turning on the blow dryers and drying our hair. When they finish tugging and styling our hair, the put the mirrors in front of us. I almost don't recognize myself. My hair is more of a ombre. It starts at the blond and then fades into the purple at the end. When I did it, there was just a chunk of purple on the tips of my hair. It's all shiny and healthy looking.