Stay Tuned by Lauren Clark Page B

Borns, suddenly wishing I could hit a rewind button and take back the day, or at least the morning. If I worried long enough, even the new clothes hidden in the trunk of the car would start to take on a sour note.
    “Maybe I should call him and tell him I’m sorry,” I said, chewing my lower lip. Candace knew what had happened last time.
    Before I could continue beating myself up, Candace let out a whoop and slapped the side of her thigh. She laughed so hard she doubled over and tears streamed out of her eyes.
    Candace gasped for breath and steadied herself. “You’re way overreacting. And he’ll get over it.” Wiping her cheeks, she bit her bottom lip. “Melissa, was he listening to you?”
    I didn’t want to answer.
    “I don’t know, not really,” I said slowly. “He was in a hurry, and he’s under a lot of pressure at work, but—”
    The moment I opened my mouth to defend Chris, Candace shot me a searing look. “Don’t whine to me and then pretend everything’s hunky-dory. You always tell me that Chris won’t talk about work; he won’t talk about his parents. He’s part of the problem, but so are you. Neither one of you want to communicate. Something’s gotta give.”
    I knew what was coming next. The Dr. Phil lecture:   “If you don’t want to change your life, quit complaining about it.” I’d heard it so much I could give the talk myself.
    Candace and Dr. Phil made it all sound so logical. But what if things were so awful they couldn’t be fixed? My mind raced with the possibilities, insecurities mounting like storm clouds ready to burst with rain. No. It had to stop. I was being irrational and needy, two things I hated.
    “Enough is enough, right?” The words escaped before I could stop them.
    Candace cocked her head and studied me. “Enough what…?”
    “Enough worrying, enough feeling sorry for myself, enough being afraid—”
    Okay, I was running out of reasons. Breathless but happy, I looked up at Candace, who beamed back at me. I had just given myself permission to live my life. Just like that.
    “It’s okay to change. To re-invent myself.”
    “Good.” Candace nodded approvingly and winked. “Now what about that favor?”
     

Chapter 18
     
    We bent our heads over a dozen hairstyle magazines, ripping out shots of Reese, Victoria Beckham, and Cameron Diaz. None seemed quite right. I had been on the darker side of brunette forever, my stubborn refusal to change over the years.
    Until she found it.
    Without a word, Candace held up a page. I had to admit—it was attention getting—without being off the charts wild. It was a cut that grazed the shoulders, accented with just the right amount of highlights. The stylist had added a bit of fringe around the eyes and jaw. Best of all, it wasn’t too drastic and had just enough movement to make it look touchable, yet professional.
    The shade decided it for me in the end:   Rich chestnut brown, with gold and caramel intertwined. The model’s coloring even matched mine, pale cream, with hazel eyes that seemed to pop off the page.
    “It’s perfect,” Candace breathed.
    I didn’t want to ask if she could do it, for fear she’d say no, or slap me silly.
    Without another word, she left the room. Candace banged around, poured and mixed, humming to herself the entire time. Five minutes later, she reappeared, swathed in a black apron, a bowl of hair goop in each hand and a gleam in her eye.
    She went to work, each strand on my head pulled and pasted into submission.
    Twenty minutes later, foils in, and a clear plastic bag over my head, we waited for the chemicals on my hair to work their magic.
    Candace settled into an ecru velvet couch in the front of the store. I perched next to her on an overstuffed chair. In the quiet of the salon, we toasted our progress with some wine.
    As the glasses clinked together, and we watched traffic sail by the window, I suddenly realized I had monopolized ninety percent of the conversation since