Page 3 of Here's to Yesterday

“Ice cream. My two favorite men, please,” I tell her. “I have a feeling I’m going to needthem.”

She laughs lightly. “You sound like such ahussy.”

“You still love me and my slutty ways,” I tease half-heartedly.

“Only because I’m obligated by blood,” she tossesback.

“Yeah, yeah,” I respond as she walks out of the room with a hugesmile.

I’m alone again. I don’twantto be alone again. I don’tneedto be alone again. I’m moody and irritable, but I still don’t think sitting alone in my room will help any ofthat.

My fingers itch to call Rae. I need my best friend, but she’s currently wrapped up in her incredible boyfriend, Hudson, and his kid, Joey. Can’t say I blame her for that, because it’s exactly where I would be if I had the two of them in mylife.

I could call my other best friend and Rae’s cousin, Perry, but I’m not sure if I’m up to hearing about his latest sexcapade or guzzling down booze at Clyde’s. I love him to death, but that’s not what Ineed.

I need…comfort. I need Ben and Jerry and an extra-cheesy romanticcomedy.

Maybe I’ll head down to Jane’s on Main—the best local boutique in all of Wakefield and possibly Boston—to do a little retail therapy.Atta girl, Maura. Goshop!

I drag myself off the bed and head to my closet, pulling out a pair of dark-wash skinny jeans and a blue floral-print blouse with pink flowers on it. Pair it with my light pink flats and I’m good togo.

My sudden decision to shop has me giddy until I glance in the mirror.Ugh.My platinum blonde hair is a mess. It can’t decide if it wants to be short or shoulder-length, straight or curly. It’s annoying the crap out of me.Maybe I need a new hair-dotoo.

I smile to myself.That sounds like a damn good idea tome.

* * *

“You want me to do what!”

“Pink tips all the way around. I think you need ‘em,” Becca, my hairdresser, says from behindme.

“Are you for real? My mother would kill me!” Ihiss.

I watch in the mirror as Becca rolls her eyes. “Maura, you’re way too old to do what you mother tells you to do all the damn time. Live a little, girlie. Get thepink.”

She’s right. I’m twenty-two. There’snoreason I shouldstillbe afraid of my mother. But I have plenty of reason tobe.

Taking a chapter out of my best friend Rae’s book and being as blunt as possible: my mom is a bitch. Yeah, I said it. She’s mean. Norah Doughers doesn’t smile. At all. In fact, I highly doubt she smiled when I was born. I’m sure she handed me off to a nurse and then a nanny. She’scold.

Why am I sitting here debating whether or not I want to put artificial color in my perfectly shaded natural blonde hair to spite her? Because I’m angry. Because I’m a grownup. Because I desperately want to say “suck it” to myparents.

And I do. Albeit metaphorically, but it stillcounts.

“Fine,” I concede, closing my eyes and refusing to watch. “Let’s doit.”

She squeals and gets towork.

Becca is quiet at first, concentrating strictly on my hair. It doesn’t take long for her to startjabbering.

“So, Maura,” she says, moving a few items around on her rented counter space. “How’s the dating life going? How are things with your hunkysoldier?”

I want to sigh at this. Iwantto tell Becca that things are great, but they’re not. However, being the liar I am, I tell her so anyway. Because why shatter that carefully crafted image I’ve constructed over theyears?

“Oh, fantastic! We’re great! Tanner is theperfectboyfriend,” I tell her, making sure to put extra emphasis onperfect.

She squeals again, and I’m starting to realize why Rae hates it when I do it. “You’re so lucky! I’ve never seen him, but the last time you were in here you wouldn’t stop gushing over him! I bet he’s a totalstud!”

Becca’s right—Tannerisa stud. He’s damn near flawless in the appearances department, but relationships aren’t built on beauty. Okay, someare, but not the type relationshipIwant.

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