Page 10 of Gray Hair Don't Care
Tammera waved it off and sat back on her couch. “Cut yourself some slack right now. Acting erratically isn’t a personal shortcoming. Anyone would in your situation.”
Lela stood and looked at herself in the mirror again, returning her phone to its previous perch. She threaded a finger through her hair, flipping strands back and forth. The gray had gotten crazy. Like out of control. “What if I dye my hair purple? Or red? Or something totally out there and dramatic?”
“You could do that, but I’ll tell you what I used to tell my clients who wanted bangs after a big breakup. Wait a few days. Let the sting of this incident fade a little bit.” Tammera was tapping the expertise she’d gained during her previous career as a hair stylist. “Or maybe don’t color it at all. I like gray. A lot.”
“Maybe…” Lela couldn’t help it. Something deep inside her was yearning for change. She’d been feeling that way since the divorce. So why was she looking to her past? Going to weddings and sleeping with Donovan? Those weren’t steps forward, they were stumbles back. “I just need something new and exciting in my life. Something to look forward to. Something that helps me get my mind off the fact that I’m forty-seven and divorced in New York and that I might as well be dead as far as most men are concerned.”
“I know honey. I’m sorry you’re feeling this way.”
Lela shook her head. “But you don’t know. You’re in a relationship. You’re in love.” Lela willingly admitted to her envy of Tammera’s life—stability, a killer job, and love. What more could anyone want? “How is Delia, anyway?”
“Good. Her lease is ending in two months, so we’re thinking about moving in together.”
Lela felt as though her heart might swell to twice its normal size. At least her best friend was happy. “That’s so wonderful. Are you excited?”
“I love her, so I’m excited about seeing her everyday, but I’m also worried I might be too set in my ways. I’ve been living by myself forever.” She shrugged. “We’ll see.”
“It’s still nice.”
“Yes, it is. But stop trying to change the topic. You’re in crisis, Lela. You’re not being yourself.”
There was the pity people had slathered on her the moment she split from Mark. It made her cringe. Maybe because she simply had never wanted to be in a situation requiring sympathy. “It is what it is.”
Tammera unleashed a distinct frown. “Don’t resort to corporate clichés. You deserve better than that.”
“I don’t know what I deserve at this point. All I know is that I’m tired of letting men have so much influence on my happiness. First Mark, now Donovan.” Maybe it was time to worry about the one person men always worried about first—themselves. “I need to focus on me. Get my act together.”
“Maybe you should think about what that actually looks like.” Tammera leaned forward, peering right into her phone. She had an uncanny ability to buzz the lens, as they liked to say in film and television—connect with people, even via a camera. It was undoubtedly part of what launched Tammera’s career as a celebrity chef. “Look. You are an amazing, beautiful, brilliant and vibrant woman who happened to marry a bowl of mayonnaise.”
Lela snickered. Markwaspasty. “And your point is?”
“That is your old life. Think about what you want yournewlife to look like. I mean really think about it.”
“Okay. I will.”
“No. I mean right now. Close your eyes and try to envision what you want.”
“While we’re on video chat?”
“Yes. The sooner you do this, the sooner you and I can go back to talking aboutThe Great British Baking Showand why Paul Hollywood is the only man who has ever done it for me.”
“He does it for everyone who appreciates good bread and steely blue eyes.”
“Shush, Lela. Close your eyes. Do it. Now.”
This seemed like a peculiar exercise, but Lela put a lot of trust in her best friend, so she did as Tammera asked, dropping into near darkness when her eyes fluttered shut.
“Now relax,” Tammera said in a voice similar to the ones used in guided meditation recordings. “I want you to see yourself. A year from now. Two years from now.”
“Okay…”
“What do you look like? What are you doing that makes you happy? Don’t think about relationships or love. For once in your life, just think about you. Nobody else.”
“Okay…”
“What do you see?”
Lela felt a bit like she was groping for nothing in the dark, but she pushed herself to concentrate.What do I want? What do I need?“I’m happy. I’m smiling.” Lela felt a tug in the center of her chest, like an invisible force was pulling her in a new direction. She let it take her, just to see where she was going.
