Page 27 of Maybe in Another Life

“OK...” he says. “I don’t have to braid it, do I? That seems complicated.”

“Just a bun. High up.” I point toward the crown of my head. I don’t care if the bun looks good. I just want it out from under my head and neck. I want it contained and out of the way.

“All right, lean forward if you can.” He starts to gather my hair. “I think this is the beginning of a complete disaster.”

I laugh and push my body forward. I wince.

“Let’s get you a bit higher dosage on the pain meds. Does that sound OK?” he says. “You shouldn’t be in that much pain.”

I nod. “OK, but I think they’ve turned it as high as it will go.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. We might be able to go higher.” He drops my hair momentarily and moves toward my IV. I can’t see what he’s doing; he’s behind me. And then he’s in front of me again, picking up my hair. “I mean, you might start saying weird things and having hallucinations,” he jokes, “but better that you’re not in pain.”

I smile at him.

“All right, so I’m just gathering all of this hair and putting it on the top of your head and then wrapping a rubber band around it?”

“Yeah.”

He leans into me, our faces close together. I can smell the coffee on his breath. I feel slight tugging and pressure. He’s got some of my hair caught, pulling tightly against my scalp.

“Looser? Maybe?” I say.

“Looser? OK.” His arms are in my face, but the tattoo is facing the other direction. I bet it’s a woman’s name. He seems like the kind of guy who met a woman on some exotic island and married her and they have four beautiful children and live in a house with a gourmet kitchen. She probably makes beautiful dinners that incorporate all the food groups, and I bet they have fruit trees in their backyard. Not just oranges, either. Lemons, limes, avocados. I think the medication is up too high.

“OK,” he says. “Voilá, I guess.” He backs away from me ever so subtly to check his work.

By the look on his face, I can tell that my bun looks ridiculous. But itfeelsright. It feels like a high bun. I feel like myself for the first time today. Which... feels great. I feel great. Also, I’m definitely high.

“Do I look silly?” I ask.

“It’s probably not my best work,” he says. “You pull it off, though.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” he says. “Well, if you need any other hairstyles, just press that button. I’m here for the next eight hours.”

“Will do,” I say. “I’m Hannah.”

“I know,” he says, smiling. “I’m Henry.”

When he turns and leaves, I finally get a good glimpse of his tattoo.Isabelle.

Man, all the good ones are taken by Isabelles.

I lay my head down, relishing the free space behind my neck.

Henry’s head pops back in.

“What’s your favorite flavor of pudding?” he asks me.

“Probably chocolate,” I say. “Or tapioca? And vanilla is good.”

“So all of them? You like all flavors of pudding?” he says, teasing me.

I laugh. “Chocolate,” I say. “Chocolate is good.”

“I take my break at two a.m.,” he tells me. He looks at his watch. “If you’re still up, which I hope for your sake you aren’t, but if you are still up, maybe I’ll bring you some chocolate pudding.”

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