“I guess.” My shoulders slumped. “So I’ll wear it up in braids so I can have it down for the dance, right?”
Brielle turned the chair to start taking a new braid down. “Right.”
“If I don’t?”
Brielle cleared her throat. “You can wear a wig or weave to get the look you want for the dance in case your hair starts breaking off.”
“My head sweats.” I fought the urge to squirm around in my seat. “Those things are too hot. Any athlete who can wear a wig and play well has my utmost respect. I’d melt or burst into flames.”
Brielle harrumphed. “Guess we’ll be finding a way to keep the girl your braids are cute compliments coming then, huh?”
“I guess.” Questions about the protein treatments and texturizers as a longer term college solution filled my head. Being silkened felt nice for a moment, but I hated the maintenance part.
Brielle tilted my head. “You’ve never cared about what other people say about you or your style. Something you need to tell your godmother?”
“No, I mean, I still don’t care for the most part. The compliments were a nice surprise. Not why I want to make it easier to care for my hair.” I sighed. “Seems like I’m gonna need to make a decision before Christmas break. Because if I don’t straighten my hair, I have to learn how to do it for myself.”
Brielle laughed. “We have done you a grave disservice. Yes, let’s make the choice about what to do after your homecoming and winter formal dance. I’ll teach you how to shampoo and condition your hair. Tanya is the G.O.A.T. You need to ask her to teach you how to style.”
“If you…”
Brielle stopped taking down the braid, “No. Your silly argument will end.”
“But--”
Brielle started taking the braid down again. “No, buts, ifs, or anything else. The routine she has had your hair on is perfect for you. We’re being over cautious by doing protective styles the next two weeks to restore the moisture.”
“Really?”
Brielle sucked her teeth. “Yes, really. You’ve been blessed to have someone who took such good care of your hair. Did we teach you enough? No, but your hair has never been unkempt or unruly. People don’t whisper about you behind your back.”
“Who did that happen to… You?”
Brielle sniffed. “Having an assumed to be easy to manage hair texture doesn’t mean my hair always looked good when I rolled out of bed.”
“Since when?”
Brielle gave an exaggerated pause until I looked at her so she could roll her eyes at me. “You’re kidding, right?”
I shrugged. Despite my best efforts, I began to pout.
“Look. Having a head full of hair your parent doesn’t know how to do is no better than having no hair at all. Tanya set you up with a simple hair care routine. It works. We’ll keep doing it until you make a decision.” Brielle said. “Deal?”
“Deal.” I stopped pouting. “You’re right. I’ll stop being a brat. I’m not very good at it.”
Brielle laughed. “You’re too modest. Trust us, JeShaun. We overlooked the need to teach you how to take care of your hair, but we won’t leave you hanging for college.”
“I know.” I gave her a sincere smile. “Let’s pick some cute protective styles so I can keep my hair healthy for whatever I decide to do.”
Brielle swiveled me around so I didn’t see the mirror. “Good, I have you covered for this week. So look through Pinterest or Insta for next week. Giving your hair a break will get you back on track and moisturized. One thing you need to remember while you make your decision is the importance of keeping your hair moisturized. Dry hair doesn’t care. It will dry up and break off.”
The car smelled like vanilla, patchouli, and another essential oil I can never pronounce. Aunt Tanya circled the parking lot, waiting for her favorite spot. The leaves on some trees planted around the mall had begun to turn. The gold tips and the orange sides on some leaves make the tree look like it has highlights.
“We’ll take the first one closer to the front if they’re not gone.” Aunt Tanya said.
Hiding my smirk took some effort, “Okay.”
“So, any ideas on what you want to wear to the Winter Formal since we already got your homecoming dress?” Aunt Tanya’s eyes lit up.
A young couple strolled toward her space, holding hands. Old people get excited over the weirdest things. “No, I’m just trying to see my options. You know me. I’m happy as long as I can dance.”
“True.” Aunt Tanya laughed as she whipped her car into the spot before a second car pretending not to hover tried to inch forward. “See, I told you, this is my spot.”
I lost the fight to contain myself and laughed out loud. “Yes, and circling three times didn’t help at all.”
“Patience is a virtue. When you want something, you have to be willing to work for it and wait.” Aunt Tanya said.
Work for it and wait? I can do one or the other, but I don’t like doing both. “Got it. So does that apply to everything in life or just parking spaces?”
“Only God is absolute, JeShaun. Applies to most things and some relationships.” Aunt Tanya checked her makeup and purse for postcards for the shop.
“So like when you decided to lock your hair? You had to work and wait for it?”
“That’s a good example.” Aunt Tanya refreshed her lip gloss. “Applies to some relationships, but not to people. Food or fashion first?”
The thought of telling her about my crush danced around my mind. “How did you know Uncle Corey wouldn’t leave?”
“Huh?”
I cleared my throat, buying time, trying to decide if I should tell her about my crush and my hair. My stomach rumbled.
“Food.” Aunt Tanya said as she picked up her key fob from the small tray beneath the armrest.
The smell of pretzels, fresh baked cinnamon buns, and pizza mingled in the air as we approached the door to the food court. Aunt Tanya
