laughing at her. “Stop it.”
“Look in the mirror,” he gasped. “You gotta see this.”
All she had to do was lift her head a few degrees to see her reflection in the mirror across from the bed. “Oh, my God.” She put a hand to her ragged hair.
The freak in the mirror did the same.
“You son of a bitch. Stop laughing.” She flew off the bed and shoved at him with both hands, pushing at his bare stomach. He dropped the elastic band and grabbed her by the wrists. “Okay, okay,” he said, laughter still thick in his voice. He scooped up the black fabric hair band and handed it to her. She quickly slipped her hair through it, then dropped down on the bed, picked up the remote, and began pushing buttons as fast as she could.
Finished laughing at her, Daniel sat down on the other queen bed, pulled the phone over and balanced it on his thigh, pushed a series of buttons, and waited.
“Hey, Beau. It’s me. I wanted to let you know that I’m not going to be home until tomorrow. I’m staying at a hotel tonight. Grab a pen and I’ll give you the number.” He paused and waited, then gave Beau the hotel and room number. “What? No, I don’t know… Yeah, there’s a pool… No, I won’t be swimming. I know it sounds like fun, but I’m working.”
Cleo rolled her eyes.
“Yeah, maybe next time. Remember, Disney World next spring, bud. I’ve already got the reservations… Yeah… Okay. See you tomorrow. Bye.”
He hung up and turned to Cleo. “What about pizza? Sound okay to you?”
“Fine.” She resented the fact that he was suddenly acting as if holding her against her will was perfectly normal.
“How about a movie?” he asked. “Wanna watch a movie?”
She shrugged. From the corner of her eye, she saw he had a movie guide in his hand. “No.” Was this how he made his move? Pizza and a movie? A little white bread, if you asked her.
“How about this one?” He held up the movie menu. “I heard it’s supposed to be good.”
“Who says?”
“I don’t know. Some reviewer.”
“You can’t trust reviewers.” She tossed the remote control on the bed. “Do whatever you want. I’m going to take a bath.”
She took her bag with her-just in case he got any ideas about digging through it. In the bathroom, she stood in front of the mirror and pulled her hair free of the elastic band.
It looked hideous because it had been smashed under the cap earlier. She tugged at the chopped ends, then dug her fingers into her scalp, trying to fluff it up. All her life people had commented on her beautiful hair, and now it was gone. It didn’t matter, she tried to tell herself.
But it did matter. It mattered a lot.
The hair she’d cut away and left lying on the floor of the bathroom in Egypt was hair Jordan had touched, hair Jordan had loved.
The room came with packets of soap, shampoo, and bubble bath. Cleo filled the tub and sank into the bubbles. She soaked for a long time, until her toes and fingers wrinkled, until Daniel banged on the door and asked if she was ever coming out.
“No!” Maybe she’d just stay there forever. Maybe she’d keep the door locked and never come out.
She washed her hair twice, sliding down in the tub to rinse.
Daniel rapped on the door again. “Pizza’s here,” he shouted.
Why did people think pizza was the answer to everything?
She stepped from the tub, dried off, then wrapped a towel around her head. Rather than revisit the clothes she’d worn all day, she slipped into one of the fluffy white robes that came with the room, tying the belt at her waist.
Back in the main room, she found Daniel propped against the headboard, a slice of pizza in one hand, a beer in the other, watching CNN. She crossed the room and opened the white box with red lettering.
“Ham and pineapple on one side, anchovies on the other,” he said.
The sauce was a reddish orange, more orange than red when she really looked close, especially where it pooled thinly around the chunks of pineapple. “They both look so good I can’t decide,” she said with a sarcasm she figured would be lost on him.
She settled for the pineapple, grabbed a beer, and sat down on what she already considered her bed.
“What the hell are you doing?” he asked a minute later when her slice was finally ready to be eaten. He stared at the neat pile of ham she’d placed on a napkin near the alarm clock radio.
“I’m a vegetarian.”
“You’re full of shit.”
She took a sip of beer. Surprisingly, it didn’t make her gag. “Why is it so hard to believe I’m a vegetarian?”
“Because you abandoned your dog, for chrissake. How can you be an animal lover if you abandon your dog? And you ate steak at my place.”
“Fed it to Premonition.” She examined her pizza slice with a critical eye. The sauce was definitely orange, the same rusty orange as the shag rug at The Palms.
She stared harder at the pizza. Was that a hair? She pulled. Cheese. Hardened cheese. But maybe it was hardened cheese wrapped around a hair. Without looking at the pizza, she forced herself to take a bite. She chewed, feeling the hair adhere to her throat. She swallowed, grabbed the beer, and kept drinking until the bottle was empty. Then she tried a test swallow. She couldn’t feel anything weird, but there was no way she could continue eating. The meal had been ruined. And next time she ate pizza she would remember the hair.
“Aren’t you going to have any more?” Daniel asked, seeing that she’d put the piece aside.
She shook her head.
“If you don’t like it, order something else.”
“No.” She wiped her mouth with a napkin. And then she found herself lying to him the way she lied to everybody. It was easier than trying to explain to someone that something as harmless as a slice of pizza or a piece of pumpkin pie could taste and look like a hairball or a musty rug. “I ate earlier today. I’m not hungry.”
In the bathroom, she brushed her teeth for a full two minutes. Then she removed the towel from her head and shook out what was left of her hair. Wet, it didn’t look as bad. Uneven, but not freakish.
When she returned to the main room, Daniel announced that he was going to take a shower.
She’d thought to leave when he was sleeping, but this could be almost as good.
“And just in case you have any bright ideas, I’m taking the car keys with me.”
“Did I ever tell you my brother taught me how to hot-wire a car?” She smiled. At the moment he would be wondering if she was lying.
“Did you come from a bloody band of thieves?”
“We were always in trouble.” Truth was, they were the best kids in the world, always trying to please. But whenever anybody asked about her family, Cleo always came up with an evasive answer. It was less painful.
“Gimme your robe,” he said.
“What?”
“Your robe. Give it to me. I want to make sure you don’t leave.”
“I could wrap myself in a sheet.”
“That might be a little conspicuous.”
She thought about how far it was from the room to his car, about how many people they had passed on their way there.
“Don’t tell me you’re too modest to drop the robe.”
She took that as a direct challenge. Slowly she undid the belt and let the robe fall open. Then, with her eyes never leaving his, she slipped the fabric from her shoulders until she held the robe in one hand.
He stared.
