Self Service

Hanging Out

Priscilla picked Janice up from school and they headed towards the nail shop. “How was school today?” she asked, turning the radio down.

“It was alright. I went and signed up for ceramics club.”

“Oh? That sounds fun.”

“Yeah. I’m going to make Uncle Scott an ashtray.”

Priscilla glanced over Janice and turned the corner. “Do you know something I don’t?” she wondered.

Priscilla was sure that her husband was not a smoker. He had the occasional cigar and that was never at home. Why he would need an ashtray beat Priscilla.

“You’re right. I can make a candle holder!” Janice realized brightly with a grin.

“That makes more sense,” Priscilla agreed.

There were always candles around the house. Tea lights, scented candles, and emergency candles. There was no shortage of candles in the Nolan household.

“Can I make you a bowl?” Janice wondered. “The teacher is getting paint so that we can make usable dishes.”

“I would like that. Thank you.”

Janice just smiled and Priscilla turned the radio on. They rode in silence until they arrived at the nail salon. When they got in, Priscilla looked at Janice’s hands before she turned to the receptionist. “Two layovers, pedicures, and I need my eyebrows shaped.”

Priscilla turned to look at Janice and ran a finger over her slightly thick brows. “She does too.”

The receptionist nodded and went to let the team know. Janice turned to Priscilla. “What does it mean to get your eyebrows shaped?” she aksed.

Priscilla pursed her lips and her brows furrowed. “You’ve never had your eyebrows arched, Jan?”

“No.”

Priscilla bit her lip. “It’s getting your eyebrows waxed into a shape.”

Janice’s eyes widened as she stared at her aunt. This woman was crazy if she thought she was going to allow someone to put hot wax on her face and then rip hairs out of it. She felt her eyebrows, just thinking about it.

Priscilla shook her head and took Janice’s hand. “It’s going to be fine. It’s not the worst thing in the world. It’s over pretty quickly.”

“Why would anyone do that to themselves?”
“Women do a lot of crazy shit to ourselves in the name of beauty.”

“But I’m already beautiful,” Janice complained.

“You are beautiful,” Priscilla agreed. “But you’re nearly fifteen and you need to have shaped brows. It’ll be fine, Jan.”

Janice frowned as the receptionist came back to lead them to the waxing room. Priscilla decided she could go first so that Janice would see it wasn’t so bad.

When Janice lied on the table, Priscilla even held her hand kept up a conversation to keep her distracted. It didn’t stop the poor thing from flinching each time the cloth was pulled off her browline. When she was done, she was given a mirror to approve or disapprove of the work.

She checked herself out. “What do you think?” Priscilla asked, watching Janice trace over her browline.

“It hurt, but I like it.”

“Good.”

The two went to get their manicures, still talking. “Who’s your favorite singer, Aunt Priscilla?”
“Rihanna. Who is yours?”