“It’s that bad?” Holly looked over surprised.
“We’ve gotten nearly a foot and a half since lunch,” Merryweather said, sounding almost proud. “And it doesn’t show signs of stopping.”
Holly paused, wondering just how she was going to get home tomorrow. The ski towns were all used to heavy snows, but this sounded like more snow than usual. She and Aliyah were supposed to leave tomorrow. What if the roads weren’t clear?
“Don’t you worry about the roads,” Merryweather said, as if reading her mind. “The hotel has a policy for things like this. You’ll stay in your room, free of charge until the roads are passable.”
“Oh, that’s good to know.” Holly felt relief go through her. She wouldn’t be stuck paying for a hotel room she couldn’t afford because the snow was too deep for her ancient car.
“Here we go,” Merryweather announced as they reached the salon. She pushed open the beautiful glass doors for Holly to walk through. “Oh, and this may seem odd, but do you have a dress for tonight?”
“My friend is letting me borrow one,” Holly replied. It was an old bridesmaid dress, but it was formal and pretty enough that it didn’t totally look like a bridesmaid dress. It had a designer label, which seemed important for tonight. “Why?”
“The hotel boutique got a couple of gowns in the mail yesterday. They didn’t order any gowns, and the designer can’t figure out where they came from. We’re trying to find people to take them off our hands. I think one might be in your size.”
“I can’t afford a designer gown,” Holly told her. “But thank you.”
“Oh, I didn’t explain that well. The boutique is giving the dresses away. The designer doesn’t want to pay for return shipping and since the boutique didn’t technically pay for them...” Merryweather glanced around like she was giving away a big secret. “It’s a liability thing, apparently. Taxes or something.”
“Well, I guess if it’s free...” Holly shrugged.
Merryweather clapped her hands together gleefully. “Excellent! I’ll have them brought up to the salon. You can try them on with your hair all done up.”
“Okay. Thank you,” Holly said. She couldn’t believe her luck. Maybe the dresses wouldn’t fit or be the right color, but it wouldn’t hurt to try. They would probably be better than a hand-me-down bridesmaid dress.
The salon smelled of lavender and eucalyptus. Peaceful. Tranquil. Expensive.
Holly introduced herself to the front desk and they quickly whisked her away into the back. Holly sat in a traditional hair-salon chair in front of a giant floor to ceiling mirror. The front desk woman took Holly’s ski-pants and jacket to hang and dry in the front. Holly felt a little silly sitting in the beautiful salon wearing long underwear and an old sweater.
“Hi Holly, I’m Flora.” Her hairdresser stepped out from behind a doorway and greeted her. She had long hair the same color as Merryweather's and the most amazing blue eyes Holly had ever seen. They were so blue, they looked like the
y might be contact lenses.
She came over and ran her fingers over Holly’s hair. “Up-do?” she asked, taking out the rubber band holding Holly’s ponytail.
“Yes, please,” she replied. “I just want it to look amazing. You’re the stylist, so I’ll go with your opinion.”
Flora grinned. “I’ll make you look like a princess. Do you mind if we listen to some Christmas music instead of the spa stuff?”
“Sure. I love Christmas music.”
Flora flashed another grin at her before hitting a button on a big silver cart. The tranquil sounds of rain and Himalayan singing bowls disappeared, replaced with the sound of Alvin and the Chipmunks singing about hula-hoops.
“Oh shoot.” Flora quickly pressed the button again. The music changed to a more tranquil rendition of “Silent Night.” “It can still be peaceful music,” she said.
Holly relaxed in the chair as Flora worked her magic. She had to be the best hairdresser Holly had ever had. Flora never pulled. She never snagged her comb in Holly’s ear or sprayed water on her face. The hairspray didn’t turn into a giant cloud around Holly’s head, and the bobby-pins didn’t pinch. If anything, Flora’s fingers felt good on Holly’s scalp.
“Do you mind if I text my friend?” Holly asked Flora.
“Of course not,” Flora replied. “Just as long as you hold still.”
Holly carefully pulled her phone from her pocket and texted Aliyah.
Hey. How are you feeling? You coming to the party tonight?
Hardly any time passed before her phone chirped with a new message.
Better, but I think I’m staying in. My stomach still feels like it might explode if I move to fast, so dancing is a bad idea. You okay by yourself?