On Monday night the phone rings around the usual haunting hour,
“Swansons.”
“Mmmm hmm. See anything you like today?”
“There was this tall number at the gym looking pretty good.”
“Gonna ask her out?”
“Dunno, I bet she gets asked out all the time.”
“I can put in a good word for ya…”
“Yeah but gal I’m seeing wouldn’t like it.”
“Alright, dork, you acted like an eighth grader today!”
“And you made a point to walk around in heels.”
“SHORT heels.”
“Still, that sound on the floor has been echoing in my head ever since, at least I got the stupid network cards figured out.”
“That’s what happens when you apply yourself.”
“Speaking of which, how’d it go?”
“Oh it should be fun, sometimes I can put in a full day if I want, 8 to 6, with breaks of course.”
“Makes it worth the drive.”
“Yeah really, and I have choices with wardrobe, already raided Mom’s closet but will have to get some bottoms, we’re going to the thrift shop tomorrow.”
“Gotta shroud that powertrain.”
“Mmm, you got the powertrain…or is it more of a grease gun?”
“Might need to lube your chassis, ma'am.”
This gets a snort and a hard laugh, “God sweetie, this is why I wait till the living room is cleared out, I’d be busted for sure turning this red.”
“At’s my strawberry.”
This gets a grunt, then, “OH, I was a big girl this morning and called the Sheriff over in Misery.”
Nick raises eyebrows, “Really now.”
“Yeap, the deputy I spoke with actually had an idea who I meant but they’re going to check around the department, at any rate he’s pretty certain there’s no reason to worry.”
“Well good, I’d hoped we could go see Deke but things got crazy.”
“Yeah we still need to, he’s like a legend.”
“Definitely a legend.”
“Yeah they said I’d have all grounds for self defense for starters, and they appreciated my concern even if it’s been a while.”
“Well good, something to rest on.”
“Yeah…OH, been meaning to ask…”
“Yaes?”
“Who cuts you hair, dear?”
Nick pauses. “Umm, lots of people.”
“You’ve touched it up since I’ve been back haven’t you?”
“Maybe a little. I was doing a buzz for a while then just let it back out.”
“Mmm hmm. Howbout you come this way for dinner tomorry night, as you say, I have look I want to try. Mom and I have been cutting hair for years in the garage.”
“You just call the shots doncha, lady?”
“Hey bubba…I think we both know of situations where you call the shots. Plus, it’ll give you a professional edge.”
“Alright, might as well.”
“Thank you honey!”
Nick pauses. “Why does it feel like I’ve joined the service?”
“Aunt Deejay want’s YOU,” as she cracks herself up.
And so the next day is pretty uneventful until he’s giving her a good once-over in her garage, even gets his hands under the hood. After moving to work the neck and ear she gasps,
“I think you’re stalling.”
“Just calling the shots.”
“Keep this up you’re gonna pull my trigger.”
With that he bites her lower lip and holds it.
“Why muth you get me so worked up befow we haff dinner wif my vamily?”
He licks her lower lip and keeps holding.
She licks his nose and wiggles free, “Well at least now you don’t owe me a tip - DON’T say it!”
He just raises an eyebrow.
“Siddown, junior.”
Nick plops down in the old scratched up wooden chair and she covers him up with a tablecloth that’s almost as old as the chair.
“Do I get a magazine at least?”
“I can tell why you don’t get many haircuts. Now keep still.”
“Gramma used to smack the boys with the scissor handle if they didn’t sit still.”
“I knew I liked her.”
Deej dips a comb in a jar of water and starts in.
Nick gets antsy, “hear any good gossip lately?”
“Well…you didn’t hear it from me, but Sam coughed up a lung at school today, said it looked like guacamole.”
“Never mind.”
She giggles, pecks his cheek, adjusts his head downward and starts working the back.
Nick decides to just relax and enjoy the moment. The moment. It’s always over too quickly and she’s got him trapped for about 20 minutes, dinner is cooking, things could be a hell of a lot worse.
“Ever get your dad in this chair?”
“Actually, no, I just trim Mom and Sam now and then.”
“So…I’m a prototype?”
This gets his skull rapped with a comb.
“Are you gonna run with him tomorrow?”
Her hands stop moving. “I really should, thanks for the reminder…dork.”
“I’m here for you.”
This gets another quick peck as she tilts his head back to start the top.
“I must say the service here is very warm and personal.”
She giggles, “I’m tempted to steady your head with my chest but then my hairy shirt would get us in trouble.”
“I’d clean it off.”
This gets another tap with the comb which he heeds for a while, till she starts a new firing line,
“Hon, so, remind me, what was it like in high school, what did it feel like?”
“A job.”
“Wow.”
“It was my first job. Even did some photography for the yearbook here and there, long story.”
She takes a breath, “I suppose if you’re not into most of the activities then it would seem that way.”
“Yeah closest thing was shop or doing electronics over at voc, and the only music besides the band were just idiots trying to get laid.”
“Always comes back to that don’t it?”
Nick sighs. “So you did choir?”
“Yeah except for one year, tried volleyball but we didn’t have much luck, got tired of taking friendly fire.”
Nick snickers and gets the deserved comb smack. “I always get a busted vessel in my hand.”
“Yeah that too. Wait, you mean for volleyball, right?”
“Gimme that comb.”
Yeap, he gets another comb smack.
“Ba-dum CRASSHH.”
“I’ll be here all week.”
“So did your school play like the other small schools?”
“Yeah, that conference with the really long name - except just the gym sports of course.”
“They all sound the same to me, those conferences with the alphabet soup.”
“So you had big pep rallies there in town?”
“Oh yeah, one time the sports dude from channel 8 came down when we were deep in playoffs, everyone making coke jokes, you can imagine the rest.”
“Ain’t that America,” she sings in a hefty voice.
“Don’t quit your day job.”
“Speaking of, did you grab your you-know-what for some after dinner music?”
“I’ve grabbed it several times under here.”
This time he gets the scissor handles. “Ahem?”
“OW - Yes it’s in the car.”
This gets a peck as she switches sides.
About then Nancy peeks in, “How’s the patient?”
Nick is quick on the punch, “She’s hitting me with things.”
Deej defends, “He’s being a potty mouth.”
Nancy, “Well just wash his mouth when you shampoo him.”
Deej just stands within his view with raised eyebrows.
The door closes and she confirms, “You’re welcome to sink wash in the bathroom.”
“Has it been decontaminated?”
“Yes, more than once, the one in the hallway is approved for civilian use.”
“You gonna put some mousse in it?”
She steps away and giggles quietly.
“Oh, Deej.”
Turning back towards him, “You know me too well, my dear.”
The finishing touches are done, the cape comes off, time to shake off his head over the floor and get that sink wash. On the way he passes Sam dutifully studying on the couch and gets the groucho eyebrows as he passes by. Once in that bathroom he can’t help feel like that 8th grader again, wow, if these walls could talk, they have seen paradise.
He finds the emptiest bottle of girly shampoo, wait, not the Finesse, yeah, just use the purple Aussie. By the time he’s rinsed and trying to shake off the excess Deej appears with a towel and a comb.
“Not too dry, here, “ then she stands behind him behind him to comb it out..
“Want me on my knees.”
In clear eyeshot she smirks a grin and gooses, “Later,” then keeps combing.
Nick ends up with a middle part, something he’d given up on in recent years but seems worth a try, and she did that look you see on TV where it fans back at the bangs then short on the sides,
“Wow really good sculpting without shears.”
“Yeah next time we’ll use yours.”
“Next time?”
She turns him around for a direct gaze with her elbows on his shoulders, does a little wiggle and moves closer, they start to munch when Nancy yells that supper’s ready.
“Fuck,” Deej whispers.
“Later.”
She just smacks his head with a hand this time, “C’mon tiger.”
After a word of grace, without the holding of hands given the recent infection rate, and complements on the haircut, they load up with meat loaf and veggie casserole as Dean asks for a quick update on the ol’ project which thankfully is on target, just need the pending equipment to arrive. Nick was glad to have access to a crossover network jumper from the school to verify the drivers; his old 35 came with a card which gave him a huge inner track. The shop is not on a tight schedule but as a matter of excellence this is how it should go.
From there the girls kinda take over, although Nick tries to bait some embarrassing stories but Nancy stays ahead of him. Over the years he would have never known she’s this sharp, at least in certain contexts, must have been some sort of nervous shield up in public. Thankfully no more lung goober updates but Sam takes some heat for cutting a girl down, and that of course takes on an after-school special kinda tone.
But Nick postpones dessert to get set up while they clean up and set him out a piece of pie. He hadn’t carried this amp since he bought it and is starting to think he did the right thing, usually has to keep the master pretty low as to not blow out windows but figures he can dig deeper into the 45 watts in the garage at some point, although he usually pictures Ned’s carefully-arranged tools cascading off the pegboard for his trouble.
Pretty soon Sam is all set up and she makes eye contact for the cue even though she pretty much leads this dance. Nick had been working with the tape but this is good since she’ll mix it up here and there. Such a fragile little thing to produce all that sound but those long limbs and fingers sure work their magic, through the minor-scale mosaic, all familiar ground until she pauses and whips on a capo at the second fret.
Nick looks over flatly, “Serious?”
Sam makes a maniacal face and rubs her hands, then starts playing the same arrangement a full step higher.
He turns to Deej, “Where did she get that?”
Deej snaps her fingers and points, “Boogie!”
Well there’s one born every minute. Nick starts in with the F#m as a guess and that’s the ticket, or wait, isn’t this Bm? Well they’re close enough except a note or two so tries both and soon it’s all there.
He can hear Deej bragging, “I think my boy’s coming along nicely don’t you?” This must be poetic justice or else good training for a real crowd, as it will probably come to that in sweet time.
For now he thinks he keeps up pretty good without repeating phrases, well, except when it kinda builds. She switches to majors now and again and he keeps it sparse, which works well in the blend, at least to his ears. Eventually she does a progression then repeats it slowly, signaling a finale. The room applauds and Nick can’t resist,
“Thank you thank you, please tip your waitress. We’re now booking for the holidays and available for weddings, funerals and bar-mitzvas.”
This gets a mixed reaction as Deej would never give him credit for such shtick.
“I hear you might play at home group?” Dean is hopeful.
Nick thinks fast, “Well she seems interested, I hadn’t thought about it, would need a bass unless it’s a background thing like this.”
Deej recuses him, “Nick is already booked for a private concert for yours truly.”
“DANIELLE!” Nancy takes a swat as Deej turns beet red, probably even to the furthest regions, and melts into a giggling dollop of jelly on the floor.
Nick has to bury his head as this blows over and hopes his ears aren’t as flushed as they feel.
Sam is laughing harder than he’s ever seen and pounding the couch.
After a few eternal seconds Nick draws a breath and packs up the ol’ knockoff and gathers cords, thankfully that’s the end of it as the parentals head toward their own sanctum.
Deej pulls close, “You gonna eat my pie - um, your pie?”
“Get it ready,” which sends her into another heap.
After packing up Nick heads to the kitchen and enjoys an excellent grape pie as the girls recover and enjoy what was obviously a plot, so he’ll have to think of doozie. For now he floats back in there,
“OK missy, where did you find a capo?”
This gets a who-me expression so he drops it.
“Alright Red, on your feet.”
Deej reaches for a help up, “Are you calling the shots again?”
Nick grabs her hands and braces for the expected pull down and they end up in a tug of war, both on their feet until Nick lets go and Deej goes flying.
“YOU…<loud whispers> dickface.”
Sam goes back into hysterics as Nick tackles DJ, starts with the snorkeling on her neck, after which Sam bolts,
“Get a room, perverts.”
Deej breaks in, “We better do what she says, c’mon.”
So she leads him into her room, which he’s never really seen out of reverence and, mostly, long held all-encompassing, paralyzing fear.
Nick stops just inside the door and looks around, “So this is it.” There’s a couple of small posters, one of Heart from the Bad Animals era, nice, but mostly artwork.
“Yes this is it, yes mostly the same…I feel the same way in your space.”
Nick takes a deep breath and doesn’t know where to look.
“Come sit with me.”
He complies.
“I swear you guys are more afraid than we are.”
Nick pauses, “I was deathly afraid of your dad for the first year after we met, just because.”
She looks at him with a small smile, “I think I get it. Girls are intimidated by a guy’s mom, and Irene seems impossible at first, so poised and classy. And clever.”
“Yeah she would have been a great teacher really, might still, who knows.”
“I’ve been trying to encourage it.”
Nick stops stalling and kisses her gently.
She pulls back and grins, “I keep waiting for you to make a crack about ice cubes.”
Nick pauses, “Same to you.”
They laugh. Nick spots the jar,
“Read anything good lately?”
“Hmm? OH, yeah, I paced myself with about one per hour, laughed till I coughed, unfortunately you had it even back then. Lord, soemwhere…<looks around> I even have that…the tighty-whities, please tell me it was yours.”
“Maybe, does it still have the -”
“YES, even knowing it’s just a brown marker, you’re lucky I never burned it.”
“I still have the bra.”
“God Nicky, I’d hate to see what a shrink says about us.”
“What’s wrong with some…creativity?”
“Speaking of…the haircut, do you really approve?”
“Did I run out screaming?”
“I distracted you.”
“Oh yeah. Can we go back in there?”
She pulls him in for more munchface, then whispers, “Retreat.”
Nick whispers, “Deal.”
She giggles. “Tonight was perfect.”
“Even with the damn capo caper,” he fires with an expectant cadence.
She hides her face, “Good luck, we’re all sworn to secrecy.”
“Mhmmm.”
“Hey, wanna catch a little T and V on the C O U C H?”
“That works.”
So they find some Funny Videos and at some point she relates how she’ll be lying there watching with her mom over in the chair and wonders what it would be like with him there but remembers she’d be too distracted, so never mind, or along those lines.
“So what did you dipshits talk about on the golf course?”
“I told you about the Fred Cribb conversation -”
“Mmmhmm, you’re gonna be hard to hang on to with all this success.”
“Well you know where my handle is -”
This gets her pretending to dig for the handle and him pretending to defend.
“Alright alright, and the caroling came up while we ate, other than that…oh, you heard Vance bowled badly with some Dawsons?”
“I did.”
“Of course you did.”
“Did he mention we have a lane Saturday afternoon, Halloween?”
“No shit? They’ll be packed.”
“And I may have a cat costume.”
“OK, comment overload, rebooting.”
After a bit more of this and that he complements Sam on the night’s set and vows revenge, gets a devious look then they get his equipment out to the car. Once loaded, she presses him against the dark paint next to the garage door and reaches for his pants while staring him down.
“Uhhh-”
“Relax sport, we’re in the shadows.” She plants a kiss while working loose the belt and other encumbrances and at this point it doesn’t take long to free the beast, which she cups into a palm and once again rubs on her chest before he even has a chance to explore.
“You are a scoundrel,” is all Nick can muster.
“I’m your scoundrel, just calling the shots.” As she helps get him reassembled in his dazed state.
“Never to be outdone.”
“Mhmmm. Gunnite, you.”
They embrace and try to avoid prolonging since this could go on till sunup.
As Nick starts moving he cracks the window, “Hope there’s enough ice cubes.” Then rolls it up as he sees her shadow doubled over laughing in the driveway.
There has never been a more mellow yet inspired drive home.