The M Word
Kelly would be even
busier.
    Brenda sighed.
    It was hard not to be a little envious.
Sometimes her arms ached to hold a baby. She was already an aunt to
more than a dozen nieces and nephews, but she wanted her own child.
She wanted to have a baby, to love and to nurture. She wanted to do
something of value with her life. There had to be something more to
life than working and earning a paycheck.
    If only Steven wasn’t marr --- she stopped
that thought in mid-sentence.
    She didn’t want to think about him. He was a
lying, cheating, scumbag. The fact that he had been cheating on his
wife with her, just made it worse.
    But there was no denying it: as much as she
didn’t want Steven in her life, she missed him.
    Before Kelly’s rehearsal dinner, he had
texted her. R U still mad at me?
    It had taken all her willpower not to text
him back. She must learn how to block numbers on her phone.
    Once she was home, she changed out of her
suit skirt and tailored blouse, into a large gray t-shirt, and
started to get ready for bed. But as she was removing her contacts,
she realized that the t-shirt had the logo of Steven’s law firm.
She hastily pulled it off and stuffed it into the wastebasket.
    She found a sleeveless cotton nightgown and
put that on, instead.
    Her phone jingled to let her know she had
another text.
    Out of habit, she glanced at it.
    Steven again. R U awake?
    No. Leave me alone.
    The words were typed and sent before she had
the good sense to stop herself. What was wrong with her? She’d
broken up with him for the last time. That meant no more
contact.
    She quickly turned the phone completely off,
so she wouldn’t be aware of any more messages from him.
    But ten minutes later, as she lay in bed,
trying to fall asleep, she remembered him lying next to her,
running his fingers through her long blonde hair.
    I love you, Brenda .
    She shuddered, and sat bolt upright.
    She had to stop this madness once and for
all. She walked to the kitchen and found a pair of scissors. She
held up a section of her long hair and cut it off, near her
scalp.
    She let the strands fall to the vinyl covered
floor.
    Steven loved her hair.
    Snip.
    He wouldn’t love her now.
    Snip.
    He’d take one look and finally leave her
alone.
    Methodically she worked her way around her
head, until there was little left.
    She felt lighter, freer, and chilled to the
bone. She shivered. She must have set the A/C too low.
    She didn’t clean up the mess; she didn’t
check a mirror to see how bad it looked. She just slid between her
sheets and slept.
    #
    Either she slept through her alarm, or she
hadn’t set it, but it was ten-fifteen when Brenda finally woke and
stared bleary eyed at the digital numbers on her clock. She
groaned. She had to be at Kelly’s house at eleven to have her
make-up professionally done, so she’d be cutting it close. She sat
up, rubbed her eyes and started to smooth her hair back.
    She felt the uneven stubble under her fingers
and remembered cutting it the night before.
    What have I done?
    She scrambled to the bathroom and stared with
dismay at her reflection. Her blue eyes were ringed with mascara
and she looked as if she’d lost a fight with a weed-wacker.
    She glanced back at her clock. It was
ten-twenty-four now, and there was absolutely no time for her to
get her hair cut in a short pixie style and try to salvage it. She
couldn’t arrive an hour late: Kelly’s mother would have a heart
attack.
    So realistically, what were her options?

CHAPTER TWO

    In the end, she shaved it all off.
    Kelly’s mother gasped when she saw her bald
dome, but at least she didn’t keel over. Brenda wondered if
Margaret was sturdier than Kelly gave her credit for.
    After her make-up was done, she spoke to
Kelly, to apologize for ruining her wedding.
    Kelly’s eyes widened, and Brenda could tell
that she was appalled, but, generous soul that she was, she tried
to downplay the disaster. She just gave her a hug and told her she
was beautiful with

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