Page 23 of Six Steps to Happiness
Her questions did nothing to calm Ronnie’s heart rate.
“In the middle of the day?” Willow continued.
Not only was Ronnie telling a lie, she couldn’t believe how easily it came. She could, however, understand her daughter’s surprise. Ronnie had always thought long soaks great in theory, but in practice, lying in cold soapy water held little appeal, a fact she’d often made clear when Willow still lived at home. She thought about the number of hours her daughter had spent marinating in bubble bath. “And is there something wrong with that?”
“Not at all,” her daughter replied. “You know me. I’m all for a bit of decadence.”
Ronnie pictured the numerous lotions and potions she’d seen in Gaye’s bathroom and suddenly felt lacking. When it came tome time, Ronnie much preferred a walk in the fresh air or to lose herself in a good book or TV show. She’d never think to spoil herself with products like every other woman she knew. And she hated to think that Willow had more in common with Gaye than her on that score.
“Me too,” Bea said. “We each deserve a bit of self-love.”
Ronnie stood aside to let her daughter and mother-in-law through, then followed them down the hall to the kitchen. “So, what can I do for you?” she asked while her guests sat down at the table.
“Firstly, we’ve come to make sure you’re all right,” Bea replied. “You were in a bit of a state the last time we were here.”
“And as we hadn’t heard from you…” Willow said.
Ronnie immediately felt guilty. She’d had every intention of asking the two of them round for dinner, but after overhearing about Nick and Gaye’s weekend away Ronnie had gotten so engrossed in preparing forOperation Poltergeist, everything else went clean from her mind. Not that she could admit that – her daughter and mother-in-law would be horrified if they knew what she’d been up to. “I was going to call you both,” she said, lying to them for a second time. “Later today, in fact.”
Willow and Bea exchanged a look, causing Ronnie to narrow her eyes, suspicious. “And the second reason for being here?”
Bea grinned, reaching into her handbag.
Ronnie’s shoulders slumped. The last time she’d been in this position, they’d given her an envelope.
“Step two,” her mother-in-law said, sitting proud as she held out another one.
Recalling the gym incident, Ronnie stared at the offering. How could they do this to her?
“Don’t worry, Mum,” Willow said. “There’ll be no need to hibernate after this one. Quite the opposite, if anything.”
The two women smiled as they looked at each other. Despite Ronnie’s concerns, they were obviously pleased with themselves, making it nigh on impossible for her to refuse. Holding her hand out, she reluctantly accepted, dreading to think what was inside.
“Go on then,” Bea said, gesturing to the envelope. “Open it.”
Ronnie did as she was told and took out what appeared to be a gift card. Staring at it, she couldn’t believe what she was reading; that six-step plan of theirs had clearly been designed for someone else. She attempted a smile. After all, what else could she do but feign delight after the lie she’d just told? “Oh, wow. Thank you.”
“Perfect timing, wouldn’t you say?” Willow asked. “Considering you’re in the mood to spoil yourself.”
“That’s one way of putting it,” Ronnie replied.
“Great minds think alike, eh?” Bea said.
16
Forced to cadge a lift because of her vehicle issues, by the time Willow and Bea had dropped her off, Ronnie had come around to their way of thinking. After all, they’d put up a good argument. Like they said, having been battered and bruised both emotionally and physically, it was time she showed herself some love. She deserved it. Besides, wasn’t it customary for women to change their image when embarking on a new chapter in life? Ronnie might have been unawares, but according to them, it was. And what better way to start her transformation than with a new hairdo.
Approaching the salon, Ronnie couldn’t remember the last time she’d visited the hairdressers. Tending to keep her tresses scrunched into a pile on the top of her head, she hadn’t paid her hair any attention for years. If ever it needed a trim, she simply lobbed some off with the kitchen scissors and then tied it up again, and catching her reflection in the window, there was no denying it needed professional help.
The receptionist was busy dealing with a paying customer when Ronnie entered, both of whom wore perfect make-up and beautiful smiles. In fact, glancing around, it appeared they weren’t the only striking people in the room, and standing there, Ronnie began to feel a tad self-conscious. She’d never frequented an establishment so modern and stylish, and compared to her, everyone in the room looked young and edgy.
A sweet-smelling mix of hairspray, sculpting waxes and shine serums permeated the air. The place was a hive of activity and clutching the gift card from her daughter and mother-in-law, Ronnie had to wonder how they’d managed to get her an appointment. Glamorous stylists chatted to their clients as they worked their magic, forced to raise their voices over the white noise of their hair dryers. Juniors ferried drinks to customers and swept the floors around the various work sections that lined the walls. And at the back of the salon, patrons rested their heads against backwashes, enjoying a shampoo or a conditioning head massage. All to the beat of the latest chart-topping hits. Ronnie found the atmosphere both daunting and thrilling at the same time.
“Can I help you?” the receptionist finally asked.
Ronnie stepped forward. “I’m here for my appointment.”
The receptionist checked her computer. “Ms Ronnie Jacobs?”
