“Look Grace, I don’t really care what Josh said. You told me you’re dating another guy. Is that really true?”
Grace grappled with her conscience. Should she confirm the fabrication by lying again? If she told the truth and admitted there was no other guy, how would she explain the lie to Brad or her nosy, actively-listening sisters? “I... No... I mean... Yes, but... Listen Brad, could we maybe just get together and talk?”
“No Grace, I’m not the kind of guy who gets together with someone else’s girlfriend. Maybe after you break up with Horatio or the next guy or the next guy, if I’m still around, we’ll talk then.”
And then Grace knew it was truly over. When had her goal changed from breaking up with Brad to getting him back? Why did she feel like a hole had been ripped in her chest? She tried to think of something appropriate to say—something she could say without breaking down and sobbing. “Brad...”
“Sorry Grace, I have to go.” The line went dead—as dead as her heart.
*****
Olivia watched and listened as the drama unfolded over the phone. She couldn’t hear exactly what Brad was saying, but she caught the gist of it. Grace obviously regretted breaking up, but she’d realized it too late. She must have sent a card and flowers to say she was sorry, but he hadn’t accepted her apology. When the phone slipped from her fingers and Grace dissolved into tears, all three sisters moved to embrace her and cry with her.
“We won’t ask you any more questions,” sniffed Olivia. “Let’s just go color your hair.”
“You’ll look so good when we’re finished with you,” Claire declared. “That stupid guy will wish he’d accepted your apology when he sees how hot you are. Just you wait and see!”
Olivia wasn’t quite as confident as her youngest sister about changing Grace’s hair color, since she’d never done it before. But what could go wrong?
Chapter Four
“It’s not that bad,” said Olivia as the four of them studied Grace’s hair in the bathroom mirror. Grace had the wide eyes and white face of a person in shock.
“It’s orange,” said Grace. “I look like a carrot.”
“It looks better orange than it did when it was green,” said Hannah. “And the highlights aren’t orange. They look kind of blond.”
“Yeah. Maybe I should put some more highlights in.”
“No, Claire,” Olivia said. “The highlights are already sort of crispy. I think her hair might just break off if we do anything else to it.”
“I look like a crispy carrot.”
“It really doesn’t look that bad,” said Olivia. “It’s just a little red, like Hannah’s.”
Grace’s eyes moved to Hannah’s shiny auburn locks. “I’m short Olivia, but I’m not blind. My hair doesn’t look like Hannah’s. “I look like a Bozo, or Ronald McDonald’s little sister!”
Olivia cringed at the truth in Grace’s words. What could she say to be encouraging?
“It’s my fault,” said Grace. “I talked you into doing it. I just thought I would feel better if I had a change, but this wasn’t quite what I pictured.”
“Maybe if you went to a beauty shop, they could fix it,” said Claire.
“It’s almost midnight,” said Hannah. “Do you think they have an emergency clinic somewhere?”
“I’ll just wear a sca
rf. It doesn’t matter anyway.” She slunk out of the bathroom and fell face down onto the bed, speaking into the comforter. “It’s a good thing I don’t really want Brad back, because I think my chances just went from slim to none.”
Claire and Hannah turned questioning faces to Olivia. “Come on,” she whispered. “She needs us now more than ever.” The sisters piled around her on the bed.
“What exactly were you apologizing to Brad for?” asked Claire.
Olivia frowned, “Claire, I promised her we wouldn’t ask any questions.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t promise, and I want to know,” said Claire. “I thought she’d be in a good mood after we did her hair, and she’d want to talk about it. But there’s no chance of that now, so I’m just going to beg until she gives in.”
“There’s nothing to tell,” said Grace as she rolled to face the ceiling. “I broke up with him and told him about Horatio.”