MA 25 (Patreon)

The Salon was a three-station shop in the middle of the new strip mall at the end of the town’s main street. It had a Unique name, ‘Tran’s studios,’ and it was run by a Korean lady named Tran who was mid-sixties, and had such a heavy accent I could hardly understand her.

I basically found a style in the book, a chin-length bob that would be little trouble to maintain, and showed her the tone of blonde I wanted to be, then she led me to the hair wash station.

Something about the hair washing made me very sleepy. I probably shouldn’t have had the bloody mary that morning, my eyelids almost instantly slid shut the moment the warm water started cascading on my scalp.

I hardly remember getting up from my chair and dreamed of going...somewhere else. It’s strange because it didn’t dream a hair salon, it was more of a health spa because I was led to a small room with sand in an intricate pattern, and an older man who sat in the center basically naked except for a knot of cotton around his pelvis as he held a huge sand stylus. I sat on one side of the room, and someone else sat on the other...she was tan, younger than me, maybe mid-thirties, with sandy blonde hair, light blue eyes, and a fit and trim body.

I should have been very upset, but I just didn’t care so I sat in the middle as sound filled the room, and the stylus was set cycling between us. When it touched my skin, I felt a strange rushing, and then I awoke again to see a much older, overweight woman in her sixties across from me who looked somehow very familiar and yet strange.

I was led from the room, and back into a styling chair, and a cape was draped over me. When I opened my eyes I had tan skin and light blue eyes.

Tran began cutting and trimming my hair as I frowned. Something didn’t feel right.

***

Later in the afternoon, I made it back to the condo we’d rented on the beach. I wondered if Frank was still 'fishing' or if he was napping. I glanced in the mirror at my new ‘do’ and gave it a quick touch-up as well as applied some nude lipstick. I looked good, felt good!

“Madeline, you got it going on, girl,” I said to my mirror self.

Getting out of the car, I made my way into the townhouse. The sun was shining brightly, I could smell the breeze of the ocean, and I realized I still could get a few hours of tanning in before Jessie came home.

But first things first.

I set my purse and the products I’d purchased at the salon, then made my way down to the bedroom where Frank was taking a nap. He snored loudly, the covers clutched underneath his bearded chin.

I took off all my clothes, then slid under the covers and up to him, pressing my body to his tightly.

“Mmmm, hello there,” he said. His voice was husky from sleep and whiskey.

I kissed his mouth, feeling the rasp of his beard always got me going.

“Hello yourself,” I said in a soft voice.

“Mmm, you look sexy.”

“You like?” I turned my head, glancing into the mirror behind the bed. “It’s a shade or two lighter than I usually get, but I thought summer!”

“Mmmhmmm,” he grabbed me by the hips and pulled me to him. I could feel he was already excited.

My fingers slid over his meaty chest, tracing his tattoos, then down below.

He grinned.

***

Afterward, I took a quick shower, then put on my bikini and slipped out the back door and down to the sand. We still had a couple of hours before sundown, so I applied some suntan oil and stretched out on one of the beach loungers. I put on a big floppy sun-hat, some sunglasses and sighed, inhaling the sea breeze and relaxing.

“This seat taken?” Frank said, flopping down on the lounger next to me.

“That’s where my husband will be sitting,” I said.

“Oh?” He set a cooler of beer next to him, and took off his shirt, revealing his tattooed upper body. “He’s probably some super co-ed tanned college grad, isn’t he.”

I giggled. “You’d be surprised.”

Frank reached over and we entwined fingers.

“Sun feels good, doesn’t it?” He applied some suntan oil over his hairy broad chest.

“Delicious,” I said.

“Jessie called, said they’re on the way back.”

“Oh, good. I’m already getting hungry.”

“Mmm, yes. Steaks at Sand Dollar, I can’t wait.”

I took out my water bottle and sipped some cold water. It had been a lovely first week of vacation. I didn’t have to be back in the City until the end of the month. I had three residences going through escrow and I’d need to be back for the closings.

I thought about the six-digit paydays and sighed. It was nice being one of the more successful real estate agents in New York. I could afford this and have Frank follow his dream job as a high-end motorcycle mechanic. He’d opened a small shop on the east side of the city and had attracted a few high-end customers.

A lot better than his Harley days.

Frank is such a kind man.

I’d married Frank after divorcing Jessie’s father who had loved alcohol more than he loved his family.

Glancing down at the six-pack of Budweiser, I realized Frank might be following in his footsteps. He had been drinking an awful lot on this trip. He cracked open his second and took a large gulp.

“Honey, don’t you think you should go easy on those?” I said.

He gave me a stare and continued to drink without regard.

I felt a weird little thrill go through me. It was one of the things that was so attractive about Frank. He really didn’t give a flying fuck what I thought, said, or did. He was so unabashedly himself he rarely cared what anyone else thought.

I knew he loved me more than anyone in the world and would burn the world down to protect Jessie and I. Who really cared if he wanted to drink a six-pack before dinner?

An hour or so later, I heard the sliding door of the condo open and shut, and Jessie bounced down the slope, wearing her one-piece bathing suit. She wanted a bikini, but I refused to allow a fourteen-year-old girl to wear something that might catch the eye of any pedophile.

“Hi, Mom! Hi, Frank!”

“Did you have fun, sweetheart?” I said as she gave me a hug.

“Yes!” she held out her phone with pictures of her on the Hobie-cat sailboat. “It was huge and we went fast!”

“I’m glad you had such a nice time, baby.” I scrolled through her photos. Almost every one had a picture of a rangy thin boy of about sixteen. “Is this David?”

“Yeah!” she giggled. “He’s such a goofball!”

Goofball.

Visions of Karyn filled my mind. “You’re such...a...goofball...”

I frowned as memories came flooding back. Memories of Robert and Karyn Adamson. Living in Utah, working as an insurance adjuster. Growing up with a family of three brothers.

Goofball. Such a Karyn word. Her favorite word.

For me.

I inhaled and stood up, looking around, looking down at myself. I looked at Karyn/Jessie in confusion, then over at Frank.

“What the fuck is going on?” I said, as more and more memories filtered down.

“Mom, what’s wrong?” the child who had been my wife said. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

Frank looked at me and sighed, taking out his phone and typing in a text.

“You did this to us?”

“Look, it was the only way of getting you out of there.”

“But we aren’t us anymore are we?” my voice rose to a strident pitch. People were starting to look over at us as I was gripped in a grip of panic.

“Calm the fuck down,” Frank said, standing up.

I looked down at Jessie/Karyn. Her eyes were tearing up. “Mom, you’re scaring me!”

I grabbed her hand. “I’m not your mother!”

Pulling her with me, we ran.