Page 31 of Bargain with Fate
“Humans or paranormals?”
“I tried both. It took me a long time to recognize that I was the common denominator in those failed relationships.” She resumed snipping. “Not that I blame myself completely. Sometimes when you don’t grow up in a warm home, you spend the rest of your life living in a burning house.”
“How did you get out?”
She offered a wan smile. “I finally woke the hell up and smelled the smoke. The rest is history.”
I noticed a framed photograph of Camille and a pretty brunette on a nearby shelf. “Is that her?” I asked.
Camille followed my gaze to the photo. “Sure is. My sweet Coral. You don’t know her?”
“She looks vaguely familiar, but I don’t think we’ve met.”
“If it weren’t for Coral, I’d still think I was straight. I mean, what kind of moron takes over a century to figure out she’s bisexual? I’m embarrassed for myself.”
“You shouldn’t be. Like you said, you were too focused on surviving to figure out your feelings.”
Camille switched on the hairdryer, which was so loud, I could barely hear her reply.
“Yes,” I shouted over the noise of the dryer, although I had no idea whether that was an appropriate response to whatever she’d said next.
Once my hair was dry, she snipped a few more ends to make them even, then spun me to face the mirror. “Here we are. Pretty as a picture. What do you think?”
I gazed at my reflection. Less frizz. More framing. “Wow. Idolook better.”
“Damn right you do. They don’t call me Camille Scissorhands for nothing.”
“I’ve never heard anyone call you that.”
She gave my shoulder a playful smack. “Show some gratitude, honey. I just leveled you up to a seven.”
“What was I before?”
“A six.” She patted my cheek. “A little foundation and eye makeup and you might creep up to an eight. That would really set Dr. Adam’s heart aflame.”
“No thank you.”
“Oh, honey, what’s the harm in a little canoodling?”
“I can guarantee you I have never canoodled in my life.”
“Then suffice it to say, you’re missing out.”
“I’m not interested in Dr. Adam.”
“Honey, I’m beginning to think you lack a pulse.” She held my wrist, pretending to check. “Hmm. It’s faint, but it’s there. Hey, what was all that talk about the number seven at the pool? Ya’ll sounded like you were practicing for trivia night.”
“Nothing important.”
“Are you using Meemaw as a sounding board now that Judd’s gone? Because I may not be a witch, but I am a font ofuseful information. When you’ve been cutting hair as long as I have, you learn all sorts of things, many of which you wish you hadn’t.” She grimaced, as though recalling a specific, unpleasant memory.
I decided to throw her a bone. It couldn’t hurt. “Any insight into the number seven that you care to share?”
“Sure. I know it can represent the bridge between the mortal world and the realm of the gods. It’s a significant number in nature too. You’ve got the seven seas and the seven continents,andthe seven colors of the rainbow.”
I smiled at our reflection in the large mirror. “You’re right. You have picked up a lot.”
Camille snipped her scissors in the air. “Open scissors, open mind. It also corresponds to the crown chakra. Did you know that? I had several clients who used the number in their meditation practices because they thought it would help with their spiritual awakening.”
