Jay's POV
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Twenty two years ago
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"Your hair Jay" she smiles the soft light reflecting off of her navy blue dress, small pictures on the walls. Framed in wooden boxes, portraits of my mother as a child. Playing on swing sets, at the beach and in the yard. It's a smaller house than the ones I'm used to. Just one bathroom and a gas stove in the kitchen with tea towels that are decorated with floral embroidery.
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"Your hair is just like your father's" she whispers pulling on a thread as she embroiders yet another towel with a different pattern. It's a skill I think to myself as I watch her fingers deftly move over the fabric.
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My grandmother, my mother's mother, guides me over to the small wooden door just past the kitchen. Having left her embroidery just knowing that I wanted to explore the land. The door swings open and she leaves it on the latch as my mother hovers watching a pan boil on the stove. The scent of grass and soil fills my nostrils as I look out at the dense land surrounding the quaint house. The wealth is the land I think to myself idly as I glance at the horses and their stables.
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I spend the day digging up holes and planting her vegetables in the land. Cauliflowers and green beans. The sun rises over my head and my golden halo of curls gets in my eyes as I wipe my brow. Eventually the stables invites me in and I wander over to the wooden doors, propping them open with an old metal bucket. The soft and low grunts of the horses as I take their hay and chaff in. Bulking it over my nine year old shoulders and distributing it all out evenly.
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Standing back in my wellies eyeing the stallion at the back. His ebony coat and the saddle over him. I pull the carrot from my bag and slowly approach the enclosure so as not to startle him. He scuffles at the floor and chows at the hay as I watch him. Slowly breaking off a small piece of the carrot. It's a risk, he's an enthusiastic eater but I'm sure that I will be able to pull my hand away should he get too excited. I open my hand and place the carrot in my palm, watching his inky black eyes as he bends his head down. Maintaining his eye contact as he scoops up his treat and I breathe steadily.
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"There boy" I say feeling like a man. An animal tamer.
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"Just like your mother" I hear my grandmother say from the back of the stable as I jump and she laughs. A low throaty chuckle as she sweeps her greying hair back. My mother's bemused expression as she opens her arms and waltzes over to the stallion. The saddle is hers of course.
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"You'll have to get your own horse though Jay" she quips as she guides the huge horse out and pats him down before taking him over to one of the many fields. Wearing her horse riding boots as she mounts the horse and sidles away.
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"Here" my grandmother says as she guides me out of the barn, taking me into the small kitchen and feeding me the stew they have both worked on.
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***
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Present day
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"You know I'm not sure, I've never done anything different with it" I begin slowly as I watch the barber flick through images in a catalogue. It's the best of the best of course, the finest most expensive grooming service afforded to me, a CEO in need of a change.
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"Of course sir" he says listening to me carefully, what I like and what I don't. I've been an unruly surfer dude for far too long, a cut is needed. I glance in the large mirror and the only thing I can see is the blonde curls afforded to me by my father.
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"I've got every hope in you to make it look presentable" I quip and he laughs easily before excusing himself to mix up some kind of colour dye mixture.
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The process is utterly exhausting, it takes hours and I begin to wonder how woman so frequently sit through getting their hair done. The hair wash however and the massage chair is an experience that I must say agrees with me.
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Now though we are sitting back in front of the crystal mirror. The large fern plants either side decorating the place and the various tools and razors stored in brass holders. The flatscreen is back on and the news is all over New York. Various scenes of the cleanup and the aftermath of the attack.
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"Don't worry Mr Gilbert Scott hair looks two shades darker wet" he laughs as I glance in the mirror and smile slightly.
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The barber proceeds to engage me in talk concerning New York and I smile and nod as he clips away at the curls. Keeping the top fairly long and razoring the sides. Finally and after we have exhausted all of the talk on New York, vacations and jobs he trims my stubble.
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"Right boss I'm going to show you how to blow this out and style it, you'll get a tub of this texturing paste too" he says easily showing me a jar of something for my hair in the mirror as I give him a thumbs up.
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The end result is worth the high payment as I glance in the mirror. It's the first time I've felt comfortable since the passing off my late father, and in no way am I expressing that my grief is no longer present. It still remains in a deep pit in my stomach. But as I breathe out slowly and steadily and look in the mirror I smile warmly.
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"Man I gotta say this is an improvement, you just levelled up" he announces and I nod happily. The slightly darker blonde works well with my tan complexion, the highlights are still evident but it's muted somehow. The cut is professional and my jaw looks more chiselled.
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"It's very sophisticated" he remarks.
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"Hey, I may be out of town for a while. I'll be back" I tell him tipping him highly before I leave. He smiles genuinely with his coiffed dark golden locks.
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“Saved my life man” I joke glancing at the new hair and rubbing my groomed beard.
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"Anytime! See you soon brother" he says easily as he goes to sweep up the platinum blonde curls that are currently decorating the floor.
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The bell dings as I step back out onto the palm lined streets heading straight down to the mall. The fancy glass doors swing around in a circular motion as I step into an electrical store. Shopping is pretty much a get in and get out again experience for me. It's not to be enjoyed. And so quickly I locate the vacuum cleaners.
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Standing eyeing the different designs, I settle for the most expensive option hearing my mother in my ear saying that price does not always reflect quality. However in the pursuit of leaving the store quickly I pay for it without a bat of an eyelash. Hoisting the large box over my shoulder, much to the female clerks apparent enjoyment I leave again. Like I said quick efficient shopping is my mantra.
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Within the hour I'm back at the office, parked up and hoisting the new vacuum cleaner up to the elevators. Cursing slightly at the sound of the old Hoover reverberating down the halls.
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Four large boxes lay standing just outside my office door and I clap my hands together taking myself over to them ready to assemble my new desk. Pulling the ebony wood out piece by piece I crank the windows open and inhale the scent of the sea air mixed in with the aromas of the wood.
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Pulling my shirt off half way through my huge DIY project, I stand back and admire the curved wooden frame pulling out a spirit level and checking the top of the desk. Before I individually assemble the drawers. Placing them in the oak frame and smiling to myself as they sit flush.
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Locating the matching cherry oak frames in a smaller package, I open them up placing them on the desk ready for the images of my family. As I stand looking at the monitors spread out over the desk I decide that new Apple products may be my next purchase.
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"What's this!?" An almost shrill voice says from the doorway as I turn to see Rebecca eyeing up the box containing a new and expensive vacuum. Top of the range.
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"That is a vacuum cleaner" I say matter of factly turning away from my desk and facing her. Her eyes bulge at my chest and I sigh scooping up my Ralph shirt and placing it over my shoulders.
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"Enjoy" I say matter of factly as I look down at the old vacuum distastefully. She claps her hands before eyeing my hair and smiling.
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"Mr Gilbert Scott I hope this doesn't come across as unprofessional" she begins and I sigh.
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"Jay, my names Jay" I remind her and she nods struck between looking at me and the new cleaning appliance.
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"Jay, You must have had a productive day. Fancy haircuts and vacuum cleaners" she laughs as I turn to look back at my desk.
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"Thanks, I just fancied a change" I say.
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"Suits you" she says whilst unwrapping the Hoover eagerly.
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"And I have to say you levelled up on that desk" she giggles as I smile. Soon she is hoovering again and the new appliance just as I had imagined is both efficient and quiet. I prize a few prints out of my wallet and assemble them into the cherry oak frames. The image of Taylor in her maroon gown at the Sydney opera house sits proudly on my desk and I stare down at her wondrously. My wife I think to myself before I leave my desk. Collecting up various papers and retrieving my suitcase to drive straight to the airport.
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