“I’m going bald,” she says, her voice squeaking.
“Big deal. My dad’s bald. You don’t see him crying about it.” She laughs out loud and more tears fall over her cheeks. He wipes them away with his hand and smiles at her. “You could be bald and wear a burlap sack and still be beautiful.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t want the kids to watch me go bald.”
His eyes brighten. “Then have them do it for you.” She looks up at him as he nods. “Today. They’ve seen you buzz my hair. They can use the clippers and do it for you.”
“Gigi would love that,” Joan says, squeezing his hand.
“And she can tie her favorite scarf around your head.”
Joan begins to laugh. “She’ll pick that awful bandanna we use to play pirates.”
“And you will be the prettiest pirate I’ve ever seen.” Another tear makes its way down Joan’s cheek and John wipes it away.
July 2012
Gloria walks into her office and discovers a cheeseball surrounded by gingersnap cookies on her desk. A typewritten note on top says: A chocolate chip cheeseball for the hardworking staff and volunteers at Glory’s Place. “Too bad Miriam can’t have some,” Gloria says beneath her breath as she uses the plastic knife left with the cheeseball to put some on a gingersnap and takes a bite. “Mmm! Oh my!” Andrea and Amy hear her as they pass and stick their heads in her door. “Mmm!” Gloria says, raising the plate into the air. “Come try this. Someone left these for us.”
“Who left them?” Amy asks, taking a bite of a cookie.
“The note doesn’t say,” Gloria answers, shoving the rest of the cookie in her mouth. “Has to be Betty trying something new for her catering side.”
“Then why didn’t she put this in a Betty’s Bakery box?” Amy asks, making yummy noises in the back of her throat.
Andrea puts some on a cookie and takes a bite, her eyes widening. “This is yummy!”
“My mother used to make cheeseballs,” Gloria says, reaching for another cookie. “But not like this one.”
Dalton and Miriam peek inside the office to check on the afternoon schedule and to see which station they’ll be manning first. “Dalton!” Gloria yells. “Come get a cookie with this on it.” He and Miriam step toward her and Gloria holds her hand in the air, stopping Miriam. “No Miriam. I’ve seen you eat cookies. Stay back.”
Miriam scowls at her as Andrea laughs. “Be nice, Gloria. She doesn’t eat that many.”
Gloria snaps her head to look at Andrea. “How do you think Cookie Monster got his name?” She points at Miriam. “Right here.”
“You are so rude, Gloria,” Miriam says, snatching a cookie from the plate and putting some of the cheeseball on top, making sure she gets plenty of chocolate chips.
When Lauren enters the front door, Gloria waves at her through the office window. “A sweet for the sweet,” she says, holding up the plate. “And to answer the question you’re about to ask, no, we don’t know where this came from, but I’m thinking Betty’s Bakery.”
“Mmm. Delicious,” Lauren says.
“Tell us! Tell us!” Gloria says, taking another bite. “How’d the appointment go?”
Lauren grins, chewing the cookie. “Dr. Flores says that Christmas will be extra special this year.”
Gloria claps her hands together. “A Christmas baby!”
“December eighteenth,” Lauren says. “Just a few days before our anniversary, but after the annual fund-raiser.”
“You’ll have a solid week of one celebration after another,” Miriam says, sounding as if she’s delivering a death notice. “It will be like delivering a baby in the Arctic.” She shivers at the thought.
“Women have babies in the Arctic, Miriam,” Gloria says. “You know what? You complain too much! You complained last year when they decided to have an outside wedding in December. You survived.”
Miriam is aghast. “I was a Popsicle at the end of that ceremony!”
Gloria shakes her head. “No, you weren’t. Popsicles are sweet.”
Miriam ignores her as both of her hands fly to her head. “We have so much left to do to get your home ready for the baby!”
“The baby could come today and would have a beautiful, safe, and loving home to live in,” Gloria says.
“Safe and loving it is,” Miriam says, refusing to call the home beautiful. “We’ll add a few more touches to it and it will be ready for the baby!”
The thought gives Lauren butterflies in her stomach. In less than five months she and Travis will be parents.
July 1972
Joan sits on a chair in the middle of the kitchen with Christopher on her lap and a towel draped around her shoulders. John holds the hair clippers between his hands as if he’s about to make a presentation of them to royalty. “Hear ye! Hear ye! By order of the palace, Queen Joan shall be shorn on this day of her golden locks.”
“What does that mean?” Gigi asks, reaching up so she can hold the clippers.
“It means,” John says, still using an affected royal voice. “That Princess Gigi and Prince Christopher shall buzz off their mother’s hair.” He bows to Gigi. “I shall plug them in and thou shalt begin said buzzing.”
“Really, Mommy?” Gigi asks, resting her hands on top of Joan’s knees.
Joan nods. “Yep! Buzz away!”
“But you’ll be all bald like Grandpa!” Gigi says.
“I know,” Joan says, laughing. “But my hair will grow back.” She leans in, whispering. “No such luck for Grandpa!”
“Princess!” John says, bowing low again and presenting the clippers. Gigi takes them and John plugs the cord into a wall outlet. He shows her where to turn them on, and she giggles as she brings them up to her mother’s head. John
