Page 93 of June: Jess' Story

“Have you talked to him?” I ask.Why did you ask, Jess?

“Nope.”

I nod, and without another word I walk away with my knit dress from Dissh (borrowed from Brit) flowing behind me and my head held high as I head towards the kitchen.

“Carly?” She’s finishing off a batch of sugared rosemary, but otherwise seems to have the kitchen under complete control.

“Yeah?” she asks me with a smile.

“Have you ever given a haircut before?” I don’t know what compels me to ask her, except that she just seems like the type who knows how to do anything. Also, I equate good knife skills with good cutting skills. Meat and hair can't be that different, right?

“I cut James’ hair all the time…and on occasion, my own.”

“Great. Can you cut my hair?”

“What?! No!” Elodie walks in on the conversation. “Why?!” she exclaims, sliding on to a stool at the island.

“Just feels like dead weight. And I’m ready to shed what’s holding me back.” It’s the most honest answer I can give that’s not because your uncle may have loved me, but he hates me more, and we’re too fucked up to ever work, but I’m quite sure I’ll never meet another man like him, nor do I want to.

“Fine, but I love your hair. Caroline!” Elodie yells for her sister. “Caroline cuts all the girls’ hair in the dormitory.”

“Really?” I ask, surprised.

“Yeah, says it's her act of defiance…a lot of the girls at my school don’t have good parents like us.” Oh, that’s sad.

“Oh, sweetheart. Are they okay?” I ask about the girls.

“They all have killer bobs now, so I’d say they’re doing fine.”

“Yeah?” Caroline asks then grabs a piece of goat cheese toast off a tray.

“Let’s cut my hair.” I pose it to her.

“Right now?” she asks with surprise.

“Yeah, why not? Come on.” I reach for a pair of scissors from the junk drawer where there’s a whole mess of condoms.Eww. I grab the scissors quickly and slam the drawer shut, hoping no one else saw that.

“That’s my least favorite drawer in this whole house.” Elodie cringes, and both Caroline and Carly agree.

“Oh my god,” I laugh then reopen the drawer and move the condoms into the trash. “They clearly don’t even need them, people.”

Right on cue, my excessively pregnant best friend waddles into the kitchen to see me throw out a handful of magnums. She starts laughing. “I was wondering who would finally get the nerve to trash those. You know, those are the ones with the holes?” We all kind of laugh, but I notice Caroline not laughing quite as hard. I don’t know if it’s because it’s not funny…or something else.

Though, to be honest, it isn’t funny. Someone poking a hole in a condom is sexual assault. Brit should have filed charges against that crazy bitch.

“I have my own scissors, Jess. Let me get them.” Caroline takes off towards the stairs.

“I’m cutting all my hair off,” I tell Brit before she gets a chance to ask.

“Love that!” she says. And this feels good. Being here with her, with my people. It’s not my person, but maybe I’m not a one-person type gal. Maybe I’m just a people person.

The mudroom door opens, and everyone in the kitchen collectively looks over to see Damian stroll in with a bottle of Dom Perignon tucked under his arm.

“Hey!” he calls out through the open entryway.

Brit pats me on the shoulder as she walks over to him. From the corner of my eye, I can see her go on her tiptoes to embrace him for a long hug. Areallylong hug. That’s good, he must have told her about Summer.

They walk back in the kitchen and I do something I’ve never done before. I walk up to Damian, and in front of his ex-wife and his daughters, I give him a hug.