It was then that she remembered the birthday gift from Emmie. No better time for a hair appointment than before a dinner date with her son. Refusing to continue berating herself, Joan headed to the dresser, where she’d left Emmie’s birthday card. Opening it, she reached for the gift certificate and felt almost giddy. She was going out, and when she did, she planned to be dressed to the nines, whatever that meant. First things first, she needed an appointment, and went in search of her phone. She had a bad habit of leaving it all over the house. It took several minutes to locate it on the en suite bathroom counter.
As she swept it up, her gaze fell on the unmade bed, and it stopped her cold. While working, she’d never left the house unless the dishwasher was empty of clean dishes. And the bed made. Never. Somehow, without even realizing it, she’d let the little things that had at one time been important slide along with everything else, including her appearance.
With a vengeance, she set aside the phone and hurried around the king-size bed and put it to order, placing the decorator pillows in place. They’d been tucked in the corner for weeks, abandoned and forgotten, which was how Joan felt most days.
Once she was finished, she felt a small sense of accomplishment. She retrieved the phone and sat on the edge of the mattress while she went through her contact list for Cutting Edge salon. The receptionist answered, and Joan realized how ridiculous she was being. It was doubtful she’d get an appointment on such short notice. Charlene was often booked weeks ahead. How foolish of her to think her friend would alter her schedule at the last minute for her.
“Hello,” the receptionist repeated.
“Oh, sorry,” Joan said, realizing she hadn’t spoken. “This is Joan Sample, and I’d like to make an appointment with Charlene for a cut and style.” On the spur of the moment, she decided to leave the gray. She’d earned those silver hairs and she wasn’t going to hide them. It was what it was.
“Charlene doesn’t have anything available in the next two weeks. When would you like the appointment?”
Exactly what Joan suspected. “I thought that might be the case.”
Apparently, she didn’t hide her disappointment well, because the receptionist continued, “We have a new girl, Bailey. She’s very good and she has several openings, if you’re looking for something sooner.”
If she waited two weeks for Charlene, Joan feared she’d find an excuse to cancel. “I don’t suppose Bailey has an opening for tomorrow afternoon?” It was almost too much to hope for.
“She had a cancellation just this morning. Would three o’clock work for you?”
“It would. Yes, that’d be perfect.”
“Great. I’ll put you down. We look forward to seeing you tomorrow at three for a cut and style, Joan.”
“Thank you. Thank you so much.”
“My pleasure,” the pleasant young woman said before disconnecting the call.
Joan felt like skipping around her bedroom. Once and for all, she was going to get control of this dustmop that was her current hairstyle. Enough was enough. It was a small thing and yet it felt like a huge accomplishment.
Next, she checked out her closet and spent several minutes shuffling hangers from one side to the other before she chose a silk blouse with a flower pattern that had a simple tie at the neck. The navy-blue skirt had been one of Jared’s favorites. He had never failed to compliment her when she wore it.
An unexpected wave of grief hit her, nearly swamped her with a profound sense of loss. The excitement she’d so recently enjoyed left her as quickly as it’d come, leaving her bereft. It was the little things she missed most about her life with Jared. The shared smiles, the jokes that meant nothing to anyone else but that would send them both into fits of laughter. His gentle touch before he turned out the light each night, his words of love and appreciation. All that had been taken from her, and she didn’t know if she could find a future without him being part of it.
Jared was the love of her life. They met in college and from the day they’d been introduced there had been no one else. They were meant to be together. It wasn’t half a life without him. It was no life. A mere existence.
Swallowing down the self-pity, Joan returned to the kitchen, determined not to allow herself to sink into the black hole of emotions. Tears threatened, which she furiously blinked back. Since Jared’s death, Joan had wept buckets and often woke at night, even now, her cheeks wet as she stirred awake. She carried her grief like lead weights around her heart. Some days the pain was so intense, she wondered why his loss hadn’t killed her.
It was noon before she was hungry. She turned on the local news, although she didn’t know why. All that was reported was the weather, traffic difficulties, and updates on the continuous crime spree. While half-listening to the reporter, she studied the puzzle as she munched on an apple, which she dipped in peanut butter. That was the way Steve, her older son, preferred to eat his apples. Joan had to agree it was a good way to mix fruit and protein. Thinking about her older son brought to mind their last conversation. It’d felt as if he couldn’t get off the phone fast enough. It disturbed her. At another time she would have asked what happened with him and Zoe. She’d been comfortable to let the conversation slide and regretted that now.
She heard the mailman on the porch, and, having nothing better to do, she opened the door and reached for the few items in the box, which was attached to the left side of the outside door. Most of her bills were paid online these days and almost everything that came through the post office was junk. She wasn’t expecting anyone else to remember her birthday, but she couldn’t keep from wishing.
Standing over the kitchen garbage can, she automatically tossed in the Safeway sales flyer along with several postcard advertisements. One for a hot tub sale and another wanting to replace her rain gutters. If she went so far as to call for a bid, she could receive a fifty-dollar Amazon gift card. Whoop-de-do.
The next piece of mail caught her attention. It was from the homeowners’ association, and it was personally addressed to her. Joan tore open the envelope and read the letter.
Groaning, she squeezed her eyes shut and wanted to stomp her foot. According to the HOA board, she had gone against Section 104 of the homeowners’ agreement, signed and dated by both Jared and her. Her yard maintenance was below standard and had become an eyesore to the community, lowering property values. They found this especially distressing, as she’d once had such a lovely yard. Immediate action was required. She was given fourteen days to comply before a heavy fine would be assessed.
Yard maintenance. Joan so rarely left the house that she hadn’t noticed how badly the lawn needed mowing. Looking at the current condition of her flower beds depressed her, so she avoided noticing.
Jared had always taken care of the yard while she worked the flower beds. Nick had been by a few times last summer to mow the lawn, but only when she called to ask for his help. She knew yardwork wasn’t his thing and she hated to ask. Nick viewed it as a chore and could be unreliable, as evidenced by his brief text on her birthday. Feeling the weight of being single, Joan slumped into a chair, wondering how best to resolve this issue.
Setting her jaw, she refused to be a helpless female, looking for someone else to solve her problems. She had a college degree and a level head. She’d do what others in her situation did: She’d hire a lawn service.