“Dat boy puts fuckin’ everyt’in’ in his mouth,” he replied with a chuckle, wrapping his arms around my waist
“I want to cut them off,” I announced meeting his eyes in the mirror.
“What?”
“Do you have clippers?”
“What?”
“Patrick, pay attention!” He was looking at me like I had two heads.
“Aye, I have clippers—not dat I’ve ever used dem.”
“We’ll have to cut them first,” I said quietly, chewing the inside of my cheek.
“I’ve got some brand new yard clippers for dose roses out front,” he informed me quietly. He knew about my aversion to scissors and had thrown out every pair he owned.
“Get them.”
I sat on the toilet while he got everything ready, trying to calm my nerves. It was just hair. It was just hair and I’d begun to hate how heavy it was. I wanted it gone. I did.
“Are ye sure?” Patrick asked as he set the electric beard trimmers and the yard clippers on the counter.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” I answered more confidently than I felt. “Can you do it?”
“I don’t know dat—”
“Please, Patrick.”
He nodded, his jaw clenched, as he leaned down to kiss me.
“I’ll just cut dem first, alright?” he asked nervously, ‘Den we’ll use the trimmers after.”
His nervousness had the opposite effect on me, calming my own nerves. “Do it,” I ordered.
I sat up straight as he clipped the dreadlocks, never brushing my head with the clippers. The fact that he was so very careful to not bring back any memories soothed me even more as he moved over my head.
“All done, do ye want to take a look before I—”
“No,” I interrupted, clasping my hands tightly on my lap. “No, just do it.”
He leaned down and tipped my chin up with his fingers, kissing me with an intensity that had my heart racing in my chest. “Almost done, my love,” he murmured into my mouth.
The beard trimmers made a buzzing noise as he turned them on, and I closed my eyes tightly as I felt the first drag catch on the short knot of hair. After that, the noise became almost soothing, and my body relaxed before he’d finished.
“All done,” Patrick told me hoarsely, clearing his throat.
I glanced up to see tears in his eyes, but I didn’t mention them. He was trying very hard to act unaffected, and if I said anything about it, I knew I’d make it worse.
I stood from the toilet and stepped in front of the mirror. The sight that met my eyes made a sob bubble out of my throat.
I remembered this.
“I’m sorry,” Patrick said quietly.
“I asked you to,” I replied, reaching up to feel the short stubble that covered my head. “I should have waited until after the barbeque… everyone is going to stare.”
The trimmers started up again, and I turned in surprise as he ran them up his jaw, wincing as they caught in the long hair, but not stopping until he’d run it into the long hair above his temple.
“What the fuck?” I asked, my jaw hanging.
“Ye’ll have to do mine now, won’t ye?” he replied with a small grin.
“You’re insane.”
“Where ye go, I go,” he replied seriously.
***
“Holy shit, Pop! What the hell did you do to your hair?” Brenna yelled as she ushered her family into the house.
“Nan, too!” Trix screamed. “I wanna cut my hair!”
“Not gonna happen,” Dragon said gruffly as he passed by Brenna to give me a hug. “Lookin’ good,” he murmured into my ear before letting go.
“Whoa, you both did it,” Brenna said, looking back and forth between us.
“Small mishap wit’ de trimmers,” Patrick said with a smirk, his innuendo making Brenna pretend to gag.
“Nan, I wanna go in the pool,” Trix said, wrapping her arm around my leg. “Can we go in the pool?”
“Let’s eat first kiddo, alright?”
Her whole body slumped until my leg was holding her weight and I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped me.
“Nan, huh?” I asked Brenna as she leaned in to hug me.
“Hope that’s okay.”
“It’s perfect.”
“Don’t worry, everyone, the party has arrived!” Farrah called out as more people entered the house. Her face showed surprise as she got a good look at me, then she tilted her head. “Dig the hair.”
“Thanks.”
“Holy fuck, Poet!” she gasped as she did a double take.
“Sorry, we’re still working on appropriate words,” Casper grumbled, covering Farrah’s mouth with his hand. “Little ears, Ladybug. Cam! Get your sister, man, she’s trying to eat that plant!”
“I got her,” Callie called, picking up Cecilia with her free arm, the other holding a tiny baby in a light green blanket.
“All the food is outside,” I called over the noise of kids and adults talking over each other as if they hadn’t seen each other in years instead of hours.
They moved like a wave toward the back of the house, except for one person that I’d come to know pretty well in the past couple of months.
“Thanks for coming, Rose,” I said with a smile as she reached me, holding a bowl of some type of salad in her hands. “You didn’t have to bring anything.”