“Look at you!”
“Yeah, mom, accidents tend to have that effect on people,” I said dryly.
“That’s no excuse, young lady. Look at that hair!” That was my mother for you—appalled by the state of my hair after recovering from an accident. She fished in her purse for something. After a moment, she shoved a small mirror in my face. I hated to admit it, but she was right. My hair had to be sitting at least four inches off the top of my head, and folded in about seven different directions.
“And would it kill you to put on a little make-up? My goodness, your future husband is here having to look at you all the time. The least you could do is pluck those eyebrows, or God forbid, put on a little mascara!” Her rant would have continued, but I cut her off.
“Mom, I’m sorry, okay? I’ll pull my hair back Sheesh.” With that, she handed me a small hair tie. I looked at her. “Thanks. I can’t do much about the make-up. And Matt is marrying me for better or worse…this falls into the latter,” I said, trying to hide my frustration. It was going to be a long trip, I might as well not get upset now.
Then, I did something unnecessary, and something I never would have done under normal circumstances. I looked up at my mother in mock innocence. “Aren’t you going to help me pull it back? ” I gestured to my sling.” I’m kind of shorthanded here.”
My mother made an uncomfortable move back from me, waving away my request. I should have left it alone—I wanted to leave it alone. Something in me, though, just wanted to keep pushing. “Come on, mom. Just pull it back in a ponytail…please?”
“Charley, you know I don’t like messing with people’s hair…especially not when its…greasy,” she shuttered.
My youngest sister, Casey, chimed in. “Mom, why don’t you and I go find something to drink? I bet your throat is dry from the flight. Mine sure is!” the chatter continues as she escorted my mom from the room.
To my surprise, my sister Codey stepped closer to me, taking the hair tie from my hand forcefully. “For God’s sake, Charley,” she spat as her furious hands worked through my tangled hair. “You know she’s not going to touch your dammed hair. She hasn’t touched it twenty-some-odd years. Don’t be an idiot!”
“I know,” I sighed. “I guess I just forgot. I am on a lot of meds, you know?”
“Oh please,” Codey said, “I know damn well what you were doing, and let me tell you, crap like that isn’t going to make this God forsaken trip any better for any of us, so could you please knock it off?”
She took a step back to see that my hair was properly in place on top of my head, then she stomped out of the room, I assumed to get Casey and my mother.
Brennan stared blankly, “What was that about?” he asked.
I just rolled my eyes, refusing to try to explain my mother’s idiotic behavior to anyone.
Sara jumped in. “Charley’s mom doesn’t like her and her sisters’ hair.” She said frankly. “It’s too ‘greasy’ for her taste.”
Brennan looked at me in what I guessed was a desire for me to clarify.
“By ‘too greasy’ Sara means to say not like her hair ” I said sadly.
“But your dad is…I mean, his hair is…” Brennan began
“ She doesn’t touch his hair either,” Sara interjected. “Doesn’t like how it feels .” And there it was once more. The “poor charley” look. It was coming from both of them now. I wanted this conversation to end. Everything about it was humiliating.
Seeming to sense this, Brennan just said “Oh,” then added quickly, “Well, I’m not a chick or anything, but, I think your hair looks fine…for what it’s worth.”
“Thanks,” I laughed. “good thing you weren’t around when we were little. Hairstyling was left up to our dad, so if we didn’t end up with a boy haircut, we just had mounds of curls flying all over the place.”
“How is that any different from now?” Sara asked me with a
“Yeah, mom, accidents tend to have that effect on people,” I said dryly.
“That’s no excuse, young lady. Look at that hair!” That was my mother for you—appalled by the state of my hair after recovering from an accident. She fished in her purse for something. After a moment, she shoved a small mirror in my face. I hated to admit it, but she was right. My hair had to be sitting at least four inches off the top of my head, and folded in about seven different directions.
“And would it kill you to put on a little make-up? My goodness, your future husband is here having to look at you all the time. The least you could do is pluck those eyebrows, or God forbid, put on a little mascara!” Her rant would have continued, but I cut her off.
“Mom, I’m sorry, okay? I’ll pull my hair back Sheesh.” With that, she handed me a small hair tie. I looked at her. “Thanks. I can’t do much about the make-up. And Matt is marrying me for better or worse…this falls into the latter,” I said, trying to hide my frustration. It was going to be a long trip, I might as well not get upset now.
Then, I did something unnecessary, and something I never would have done under normal circumstances. I looked up at my mother in mock innocence. “Aren’t you going to help me pull it back? ” I gestured to my sling.” I’m kind of shorthanded here.”
My mother made an uncomfortable move back from me, waving away my request. I should have left it alone—I wanted to leave it alone. Something in me, though, just wanted to keep pushing. “Come on, mom. Just pull it back in a ponytail…please?”
“Charley, you know I don’t like messing with people’s hair…especially not when its…greasy,” she shuttered.
My youngest sister, Casey, chimed in. “Mom, why don’t you and I go find something to drink? I bet your throat is dry from the flight. Mine sure is!” the chatter continues as she escorted my mom from the room.
To my surprise, my sister Codey stepped closer to me, taking the hair tie from my hand forcefully. “For God’s sake, Charley,” she spat as her furious hands worked through my tangled hair. “You know she’s not going to touch your dammed hair. She hasn’t touched it twenty-some-odd years. Don’t be an idiot!”
“I know,” I sighed. “I guess I just forgot. I am on a lot of meds, you know?”
“Oh please,” Codey said, “I know damn well what you were doing, and let me tell you, crap like that isn’t going to make this God forsaken trip any better for any of us, so could you please knock it off?”
She took a step back to see that my hair was properly in place on top of my head, then she stomped out of the room, I assumed to get Casey and my mother.
Brennan stared blankly, “What was that about?” he asked.
I just rolled my eyes, refusing to try to explain my mother’s idiotic behavior to anyone.
Sara jumped in. “Charley’s mom doesn’t like her and her sisters’ hair.” She said frankly. “It’s too ‘greasy’ for her taste.”
Brennan looked at me in what I guessed was a desire for me to clarify.
“By ‘too greasy’ Sara means to say not like her hair ” I said sadly.
“But your dad is…I mean, his hair is…” Brennan began
“ She doesn’t touch his hair either,” Sara interjected. “Doesn’t like how it feels .” And there it was once more. The “poor charley” look. It was coming from both of them now. I wanted this conversation to end. Everything about it was humiliating.
Seeming to sense this, Brennan just said “Oh,” then added quickly, “Well, I’m not a chick or anything, but, I think your hair looks fine…for what it’s worth.”
“Thanks,” I laughed. “good thing you weren’t around when we were little. Hairstyling was left up to our dad, so if we didn’t end up with a boy haircut, we just had mounds of curls flying all over the place.”
“How is that any different from now?” Sara asked me with a
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