Brooke and Evelyn
by Bella Rum
I didn’t get a cancellation call yesterday, so I went to my 10am hair appointment. Brooke was there, looking a little wan, but present and ready to cut my hair. She usually closes the shop on Mondays. We were the only ones there. She talked a bit about her business.
I mentioned before that her shop is a quaint little place, tucked into a side street in a small town. The building is old and imbued with character. She’s given it her touch, and made it a cozy and charming space. The former owner used antique dressers and chests for the stations. Brooke has added more for a couple of new stylists, and she left the original wide-planked floors and exposed walls in tact. She’s decided to give a treatment to one wall (not sure what), and she’s getting new lighting. She can’t decide if she wants big chandeliers or something more modern and better for doing the work they do, especially coloring. I’m interested to see the improvements. Maybe it will all be done by my next appointment. It’s a small space, and she’s at the max with six stylists. New lighting! And a new wall treatment! Can’t wait. I love me some renovation/decorating, especially when someone else is signing the checks.
Do you say hairstylist/hair stylist or hairdresser or cutter or beautician?
I had a disturbing call last night. Unsure if I had the correct address, I sent a Christmas card to a friend I worked with many years ago, and put my new phone numbers on it. I haven’t seen her in a few years. I knew her better when we were young. When we moved back from MD, even though I didn’t see her very often, I did renew my relationship with her mother Evelyn. I used to take Evelyn to lunch often, and H and I visited her. Then my life took a detour when Dad had the stroke. I moved away, and was pretty overwhelmed with those circumstances. Evelyn and I became Christmas/birthday card friends. I sent her a birthday card this year, and tried to call several times, but got no answer. I tried to call the daughter. No answer. So, I sent the daughter a Christmas card and hoped to hear from her. I didn’t know how else to reach her. She didn’t have the same number. I think her phone had been disconnected. Another story.
I feared that Evelyn had died, and her daughter hadn’t notified me, but no. That wasn’t it. She and and her brother moved Evelyn to a “private situation” that, when I drilled down, didn’t sound ideal. I could not get a straight answer out of the daughter. I asked for a number. She said Evelyn didn’t have a phone and “they” discouraged calls on the “house” phone. I asked if her mother didn’t have her own phone because she was having mental problems? Nope. No mental problems. After much whining and blubbering about how upsetting it all was, I found out that she hadn’t visited her mother since August. She seemed very uninformed about the whole affair, but I believe there was a little obfuscation going on there, too. I did get an address out of her, but I’m concerned about how I will find Evelyn’s mental and physical condition. I just don’t know, and her daughter doesn’t seem to know, either.
H just realized that my car needs to be inspected. When? Last month.