Why Two Electric Hair Clippers Appeared on the Dance Floor at Our Reception
“Grandma, we cannot take this,” he said.
“You can,” Maribel said, pressing the paper into his hand. “Five hundred dollars is not going to change my life, but it will buy you a beautiful evening.”
Mason looked down at the white envelope, his fingers tightening around the paper.
“We will use it tonight,” he said.
“Well, we will find the best restaurant on the water,” I said, leaning in to hug her.
Her skin smelled of lavender soap and clean wool, and she held onto me with a strength that surprised me.
As we walked down the porch steps, I turned back to look at her standing by the green door.
She did not wave us away quickly this time; she simply stood under the porch light, her bald head catching the bright morning sun.
We got into the car and Mason started the engine, the heater blowing warm air against our bare heads.
“It feels strange,” Mason said, reaching up to touch his smooth scalp as he backed out of the driveway.
“The wind feels different,” I said.
