Bears Know Best

Chapter 8: Shaping the Gem

I SPENT THE next hour of our drive buried in my iPhone, texting Alyssa, searching the internet, and playing a couple of games... but I didn't pay attention to any of it. I realized suddenly I was just avoiding thoughts about what I was doing and whether it was right. 'I'm a freak either way,' I told myself. 'Which way would I be happier?' I asked myself.

'That's the part that scares me,' I answered myself. I knew which way I thought I would be happier, and I felt like I had known it the moment that Alyssa had me dress in her clothes on Monday. I worried about what Dad would say when he actually met up with me for the first time like this. 'Would he really be okay with me?' Then of course there would be Rachel, I had my suspicions on how she would react – and it wouldn't be good.

I was so consumed with my thoughts that I barely registered that we had stopped in front of a building that said, 'Antoinette's Salon and Day Spa.'

"We're here," Mom told me.

I was nearly shaking as we got out of the car and she led me inside. "Have you been here before?" I whispered quietly.

"Several times," she told me with a smile.

She gave me a sideways squeeze as we approached a counter just beyond a set of beautiful glass doors. "My daughter Taylor has an appointment," she told the lady.

"Of course, Ms. Redding," the lady said with a smile. She was dressed very professionally in a very flattering skirt suit. "Let me see if Alanna is ready for her," she told us.

As she turned around, I thought about the fact it seemed odd for someone at a hair salon to dress that upscale. I began to understand more though as Mom and I sat down in their waiting area and we were immediately offered beverages and cookies. The level of service was not what I expected at all from a barbershop... I guess maybe I was too used to the ten-dollar barbershop cut that my dad still liked to go for, even with his wealth and success.

"Taylor, they're ready for you," the hostess lady came in, not long after I made myself comfortable.

'They're?' I asked silently.

Mom nudged me forward and followed me back with the lady to a room with a single swiveling chair, and a sink with a chair in front of it. The swivel chair looked like even it was a nicer chair than in the barbershop I had always been forced to go to. "Hi Ms. Landt, Ms. Redding," the lady that waited for us said.

"Hello," I said politely.

"What can we do for you today?" She looked at both of us.

"I'm going to leave Taylor in your hands," Mom started, "but, this is what she would like to do with her hair." Mom pulled the magazine page from her purse.

Alanna took the page from her hand, looked at me, looked at it and then said, "I think this would look good on you," she smiled and added, "but would you mind if I just use this as a guideline?"

Mom took the lead, "As long as it's close to this," she insisted on my behalf.

"It's going to look great," she assured us both, and then Mom left the room. "Just sit and relax Ms. Landt, and I'll get you looking great in a short while!"

"You may call me Taylor," I told her. Preferring that she did, I felt like some sort of high society stuck-up snob when she used the Ms. Landt name.

"I'm sorry miss, but it's just one of our policies and traditions here," she told me from in front of me.

I sighed, "As you wish."

"Well, first thing is first; let's get your hair washed so we can get started here properly."