Back in My Husband’s Good Graces

My husband Ryan and I have been married for five years. We met in college and immediately fell in love. I was an accounting major and Ryan was in finance.

Ryan had always had a thing for short hair, it became apparent early on in our relationship. I was not into that at all. I let it slide, kind of like if he might have wanted a Lambo or a Ferrari. Unobtanium as far as I was concerned.

The shortest my hair had ever been was when I was in elementary school and my mother had it cut to just above my shoulders. As I grew older, Mom and I let my hair grow out and since then it has always been right below my shoulder blades or just below my bra strap. It was a comfortable length for me.

I am fairly slim. A lot of people say I am skinny, which I don’t find to be too flattering. But it’s accurate. I am 5’7 and the most I’ve ever weighed is 112 pounds no matter what or how much I eat. Judging from what my mom and grandmom look like, I am probably going to be slim forever. I also have long legs. I have a short torso and the rest of me is my legs. I consider them to be my best asset, and I take full advantage of that. I wear heels a lot to accentuate them. Ryan says they are his pinup legs and a photo of me with bare legs on full display is on his computer and phone as a screen saver.

We were married shortly after graduating from college. Ryan got a job as an investment banker. Which is a fancy name for a stockbroker. But what he really wanted was a job in retirement planning. I was a junior accountant putting in my time getting ready to sit for the CPA exam. Once I had that then I hoped my options would expand.

Starting a family had been talked about but the pressures of our jobs just didn’t allow us to think that far ahead, yet. Ryan seemed to be mentally much further along with having a family than I.

Ryan and I both thought my hair looked nice and professional. Lots of body, with just a bit of a wave. My only regret was its color. A light dishwater blond. I thought coloring it would cost me a lot of money and maintenance. I’ve never colored it except for the odd streak or two. But Ryan didn’t care so much about its color, he would have preferred it to be shorter. Much shorter. He even told me there was no such thing as too short. Yeah, right.

Life was going along just great. We were still at the beginnings of our careers and starting to climb our respective corporate ladders.

One night I was driving along a back road and unfortunately, I was also texting with my best friend. Kelly had just texted saying she had met a guy. Kelly had already told me all about the guy. They had gone on several dates. Then Kelly texted, “I think I’m in love!”

I was shocked and forgot what I was doing and ran off the road and hit a tree. My texting stopped. I was lucky that I hit the brakes and was going fairly slowly by the time I hit the tree. I managed to get untangled from the air bag and got out of the car. Oh boy was it a mess.

I had to think fast. Some other driver noticed my predicament and stopped to lend a hand. I could already hear the sirens of the emergency vehicles. My mind was racing, “Think Tara! Come up with a story fast.”

When the police arrived, she could see I wasn’t badly hurt and asked if I needed to go to the ER or not. Aside from a bruised nose from the airbag, where I was sure a good black eye or two would appear in a day or so, I thought I was doing OK.

She asked what happened. I answered with my made-up story, “I swerved to avoid a deer and wound up down there. I couldn’t stop in time to not hit the tree though.” She seemed to buy it. That was good as texting while driving had serious repercussions. Happy days.

I called Ryan to let him know what happened. Unfortunately, Kelly got worried when I stopped texting her. She had called him to ask if he knew anything. Uh-Oh. He would know I was texting and driving.

Ryan arrived on the scene and between him, the cop, and the wrecker driver they pronounced my car as a total loss. It was my one luxury after getting my first promotion at work. It was only a year old. A day later the insurance adjustor confirmed their initial assessment. My car was now history.

Ryan was silent on our drive home. After ensuring I was fine, he fell silent. But I knew he was mad.

When we got in the door of our house, he turned to me and said, “Tara, what in the hell were you thinking when you were texting Kelly while you were driving? You were lucky it wasn’t worse. You could have been seriously hurt, and you’re lucky that it was just a tree that you hit. What if it had been another car and that driver had been hurt? Or worse yet, some kid out riding their bike?”

He was right. There was no excuse. Nothing I could do would fix this. It was all my fault. Luckily, my bruised nose and eyes cleared up in about ten days. The visible signs of the wreck were gone. However, the emotional scars lingered.

We went out and I got another car. It was not as nice as the one I wrecked, but it was what we could afford after the insurance paid off the cost of the wreck. We were also informed our rates would go up. Significantly.

Ryan was royally pissed off. I had to do something to get back in his good graces.

I cooked him his favorite meals. Made extra sure the house was kept nice. These were things we always did together anyway. So, this wasn’t a big step in the right direction.

As usual, Kelly and I talked about my predicament over coffee. She had lots of ideas and options. None of them would come even close to lightening Ryan’s mood.

Suddenly, Kelly perked up. She knew everything about me and Ryan.

“Tara, what about your hair?” I looked up from my coffee, “What about it?”

“Ryan has wanted it shorter ever since I’ve known him. What would you think about cutting it? Would that help you out?”

That got me interested. Maybe there was a way out of this mess I’d gotten myself in. And it really wouldn’t cost me much except a haircut.

Ugh, I thought. I had an idea of just how short it would take to get back in his good graces.

“Kelly, you might be on to something here. But I’ve never had short hair. And I’m afraid of how short is short enough for him.”

“Well, from what you’ve told me, and from what I’ve seen of him when we go out, I think it should be pretty short. I’ve watched him. He always stares at the women around that have short hair. Didn’t you tell me he said there’s no such thing as too short?” That was a reminder I didn’t need.

“Yeah, let me think about it and we’ll see.”

I did think about it. A lot. And the more I thought about it the more I believed this just might be the thing that would get Ryan out of his funk. But parting with my hair was a big step.

About a week later Kelly texted me at work. “I’ve got an idea. Meet me after work, the usual place.” Her usual place was Starbucks.

We met and over a coffee Kelly started her appeal. “I’ve been thinking about your problem.” “Me too. It is my problem after all.” “Yeah, well I’ve been looking at possible styles and stylists online. There’s a guy here in town that sounds perfect. Just make an appointment and see if he has ideas.”

I hesitated. Going to a new stylist wasn’t usually such a good idea. They could wreck my hair. “I think I can just go to see Jill and let her do whatever. She’s been cutting my hair since we moved here.”

Kelly just looked at me with her sad puppy eyes. “Tara, seriously, Jill is going to give you a crappy pixie or something. If she even cuts it short at all. I’m sorry, but she’s only good at trimming long hair and doing a color. I don’t see any imagination coming from Jill.”

What Kelly said was the truth. It was one of the reasons I hadn’t already called Jill for an appointment. If I was going through with this, I needed pizzaz and Jill was not someone I thought had that ability.

And Kelly certainly seemed to have an opinion. I was beginning to think maybe she wanted to see me in a new shorter style. She was obviously much more into this than I was.

But now Kelly may have found someone with that pizzaz style I’d been looking for.

“OK, who is this guy you’ve found, and what makes him so special?”

“I found him on Pinterest. His styles are insanely cool. His fees are not cheap, and his models all look great. He doesn’t just cut hair. He is an artist.”

She gave me a look at her phone. I sucked in my breath. OMG. OMG. OMG.

The models did look great, but their hair was so very short. Much shorter than any pixie I’ve ever seen. I had never even thought remotely about hair this short. The pics on her phone showed some before and after shots of the models. He really did appear to do magic.

But could I go through with this? And if I did go to this guy, Ryan’s comment about there is no such thing as too short might be put to the test.

We talked about it for a while. Then I had to go home. To a very quiet house.

I was just getting short responses to anything I said. This was not my Ryan. He was normally very talkative. He was in a deep funk. One that I had put him in, and now I had to get him out of it.

Maybe Kelly had found a way to get him back to his normal self. And get me back in his good graces.

It took several days and lots of texts from Kelly prodding me to do something. Texts that usually said something like, “Pick up the phone and call his shop.” Kelly was really pushing for me to act.

I looked him up and got the number for his shop and called. He was normally booked out weeks in advance. I was lucky as he had just had a cancellation. I made an appointment for a week from Wednesday. Instead of that Wednesday coming along slowly, time seemed to race towards the date I was to part with my hair.

I arrived at his shop. It was a very modern shop. Everything was modest but looked to be the latest rage in salon style. Not at all like Jill’s which was a bit on the lower end of style. The receptionist greeted me warmly and said Justin would be out shortly.

I accepted a water bottle and waited. Shaking. In a few minutes a fairly tall, slim man with tattoos on his arms, and at least ten years older than me came around a corner and introduced himself.

“Hi, I’m Justin. You must be Tara.” I stood up and said, “Yes, nice to meet you.”

“Great, come on back and let’s see what you’re after.” I followed him to his station and sat down in the chair.

“Tara, tell me a little about yourself. I’m assuming you’re looking for a change. What are you looking for and why.”

And I told him. Everything, including Ryan’s desire for me to have short hair.

Justin smiled. “That’s a nice gesture. How sure are you about doing this? I think what I might have in mind could be a little out of your comfort zone.”

“I think getting out of my comfort zone might be a good thing for both of us. I want to do something for Ryan, and I also want to impress my bosses that I know what I’m doing at work too. I need to stand out a little while still looking professional.”

Justin’s smile got bigger. Then suddenly he looked like he was thinking about something else. He started playing with my hair to feel the texture and how it moved.

Finally, he stopped and turned back to me. “Tara, let me be completely open here. I’m sure you’ve seen either my web site or Pinterest posts.” I nodded a yes. “I believe many women hide behind their hair. It could be their best feature, but too many women have been taught they need to have long hair to be attractive and feminine. I don’t think that’s right. On the other hand, not all women should have very short hair. That’s not the right way to go either.”

I was beginning to think he might say he thought I should go to another stylist. Instead, he continued.

“You however are one of those women who absolutely should have short hair. Everything I see here screams to let another more beautiful Tara out. You have a wonderful slim figure.” At least he didn’t say “skinny” the way too many people would say.

“I see you like to show off your legs too. That’s what you should be doing with the rest of you. Your hair just needs to release the inner you. I don’t want to compare myself to a real genius, but I’ll paraphrase one. What I do is I just chip away at a woman’s hair to get to the beautiful person underneath it all. That’s what I think I can do for you.”

My God, that is the sweetest thing I have ever heard someone say about me. I knew he was referring to Michelangelo. I was becoming putty in his hands.

“I have an idea. How about I just trim it up today.” I started to object but he quickly cut me off. “That’s a starter. I am in a show next Saturday at The Westin Hotel downtown. I need a model with longer hair. Most of my usual models already have short hair and that won’t do. I need someone like you that I can do a big makeover on.”

He continued, “I’ll be honest. It’ll be short, and you will not know what I have planned for you until after I’m done. And it’ll be free, including what I do today.”

I might have been putty, but I was still unsure; right up until he said, “It’ll be free.” Any thought of the possible ramifications of what he said disappeared right then and there.

“That sounds great. What do I have to do?” And he gave me the details of when and where at the hotel to show up and what to do beforehand. I also signed an agreement giving him carte blanche to do anything he wanted to do with my hair.

“Should I bring my husband? I think him seeing me getting a haircut might be a little bit of a turn-on for him.” “O, by all means bring him. I want to meet this guy who would like to see short hair on his wife.”

Did I just tell him too much?

Justin smiled at me, looked at my legs and pointed at them. “Wear something that shows those legs off if you can.” I smiled. That was not going to be a problem at all.

And then Justin trimmed my hair. It was now at the bottom of my bra.

I got home and Ryan immediately noticed my hair was a bit shorter. I could tell he at least noticed it, but I could tell he thought it could be shorter.

I asked him if he had any plans for Saturday a week from then. I already knew he didn’t, and when he said no, I told him I was going to be a hair model at The Westin and asked him to join me. He looked excited for the first time in weeks.

I told him who I was modeling for, and I know he looked Justin up. By the look in his eyes, he believed I would be getting a very short haircut.

That 10 day wait for Saturday came in no time at all for me. It was the fastest 10 days ever. I think it felt like it would never come for Ryan though. He was definitely looking forward to it.

It was the first time we’d had real conversations since my accident. Maybe things were looking up for me.

Of course, I told Kelly everything over several meetings and coffees at Starbucks. She seemed way more excited than I felt. She also said she would be at The Westin for the show. Strictly for moral support, she claimed. I know she wanted to see the makeover.

Saturday morning arrived and I dressed to show off my legs with a very short skirt and a top to match. But no jewelry or makeup as per instructions. Ryan and I arrived at The Westin at noon as scheduled. The show was already in progress. I was told to report backstage, and I left Ryan to walk around.

Someone gave me a schedule of who was on stage and when. I looked and there was my name as Justin’s model. We were the last event. Whew, now I would have to wait another three hours until I get my hair cut.

Justin came back and we chatted. He told me he was still playing around with ideas for my new style. He also told me there were a couple of rules.

Rule Number 1 – Smile. No matter what happened, I was to smile. If I felt like I was going to cry, make the tears appear to be tears of joy.

Rule Number 2 – No talking unless he asked me a question.

Rule Number 3 – No expressions of shock. Just refer back to Rule Number 1.

Rule Number 4 – Do not touch my hair or head while on stage. Wait until we get backstage to touch it.

He looked around and said, “I thought you were bringing your husband. Didn’t he make it?”

“Ryan is here. We didn’t think being backstage was the right place for him to be though. He’s around somewhere. I can call him and get him back here.” “Yes, by all means do that, we’ll get him a good seat.” Time was really starting to fly by.

Ryan arrived backstage and met Justin right about the time when an assistant grabbed my hand to take me back for a shampoo. I left Justin and Ryan talking to each other.

Once they completed the shampoo, someone else dried my hair and put some curls in. That assistant said Justin told her he wanted some curls, so the makeover appeared to be more dramatic. My hair was normally full of body. The curl added a little umph. However, without any mirrors around I had no idea how I looked.

Then I was quickly taken to see the makeup artist, Chelsea.

The preparation sheet Justin had given me on Wednesday said I was not to wear any makeup or jewelry. Chelsea told me that was to ensure I gave her a blank slate to work on. Even here there was no mirror anywhere that I could see. All I knew was that the lip gloss she put on was a very bright red. But what she did to my eyes and cheeks was a mystery to me. But I have to admit, I was enjoying all the attention.

When she finished with my makeup, she gave me her card and said, “Tara, this is one makeover I want to stick around to watch. In case you didn’t already know this, you are a knockout. If you’d like any tips or anything, just call me.” I blushed at the compliment. I was sure I would take her up on her offer and carefully put the card in my purse.

Now it was time to say goodbye to my hair. The shampoo assistant told me to not touch my hair until after Justin finished. Saying goodbye was actually a mental effort not a physical one. As I said, it has always been long. I had added some streaks to it little by little. However, they were mostly a thing of the past at this point.

But the color was the same dishwater light blond hair. Looking at it now laying across my chest, I thought to myself, “This really is a good time to make a change. And if it helps with Ryan, that’s a bonus.”

Justin’s name was announced and an assistant literally pushed me to go on stage with him. He introduced me as his model, and I sat in the only chair on a brightly lit stage. I crossed my legs trying to show how calm I was. Inside though I was shaking.

I saw lots of professional cameras clicking away and my eyes had spots from all the strobes going off.

It suddenly dawned on me that I was the centerpiece of a room full of people whose sole purpose was to watch Justin cut my hair. I calmed myself by thinking they were here to watch Justin, and I was just sitting there. Losing my hair.

As I sat down Justin asked me a question. “Tara, you told me you’ve never had short hair before. Is that right?” Rule Number 2, it was time to speak. “Yes, all my life it’s been long and never shorter than what it is now.”

“I think we can change that. What would your husband think of a new shorter hairdo on you?” Time to think fast and be honest. “Justin, I think he would be all for it.” Justin then looked at the audience and asked if Ryan would stand. “Ryan there is Tara’s husband. Ryan, is Tara right?” Ryan held up his thumbs indicating a big yes. And the room erupted in cheers. I tried to calm down some. Inside I was quaking.

Justin played with my hair showing it off to the audience. He spun the chair around so the audience could see all of my hair.

And he was now talking to the audience. “As you can see, Tara has wonderful hair. And there is a lot of it. Very little color has been added to it, and it has a ton of body. But it’s hiding the real Tara. It’s time to go find her.” More applause from the audience.

I was glad to see Kelly had arrived and sat right beside Ryan, and she was all smiles too. I hoped I’d be all smiles as well in an hour or so.

Justin quickly put a cape over me and began by taking some of the hair on the top and twirling it around and then held it in place with a grip. He wet the lower hair and then carefully combed out the hair on my sides and back. This was putting me at ease in a big way.

He then picked up something from a toolbox behind me and I could feel him lifting up the hair in the back. I knew he was about to make a big cut. And he did. How much was cut, I had no idea. But the audience sure seemed to like it. He made several more cuts in the back and then started on the sides.

When he made the first cut near my right ear, I could see how much was gone simply by looking at the cape. At least a foot of my hair went sliding down the cape. I kept thinking to myself, remember Rule Number 1 Tara, just keep smiling.

This kept happening and then he started on the left side of my head. I kept smiling. Actually, it wasn’t that hard to keep smiling. I was enjoying the attention even though I couldn’t see my transformation myself.

In between flashes from the camera strobe lights, I could see Ryan in the front row, and he certainly looked to be enjoying things. Kelly looked to be enjoying things too.

The thought of how much hair was being cut and how I would look when Justin was finished were far away at this point.

Justin appeared to be satisfied with how things were going on my sides and back. I felt like my hair was still several inches long there but based on his web site and Pinterest postings, I somehow knew that would soon change.

Just then, he removed the grip holding my hair on top of my head. My hair spilled down on the cape displaying the curls his assistant had put in. Justin sprayed it wet and quickly combed this out too.

Just as he had done on the sides, he slid his scissors in and cut above my right ear. A piece of hair much longer than the cuts on the sides, maybe 15 or even 18 inches, slid down the cape. Now things were getting very real.

Surprisingly to me, I was not at all emotional about it. I never felt like I would tear up and cry. I had been anticipating this for ten days now. I already knew pretty much what Justin might do. The only question was how short was short enough for Justin.

Justin worked quickly removing all the hair on the top. At this point I figured it was at least six or maybe even eight inches long up there. I wondered how much he was going to cut and how much I’d have left.

I didn’t have very long to wait.

He took his comb and scissors and started cutting using scissors over comb going up the right side of my head. I saw smaller pieces of hair, maybe 2 or 3 inches long as they rained down onto the cape. He did this all around my head.

All this took place while Justin kept up a steady chat with the audience. He was telling them what he was doing and why. It was all fairly technical and was addressed to the other stylists in attendance.

Right about then I pretty much gave up wondering how much hair I still had. My adrenaline was about worn out. I just knew it was short. And getting shorter all the time. The evidence on the cape and floor left no doubt about that.

Justin then went back to the top. Long pieces of hair were flying down. Looking at the hair and what I figured I had before he started on the top, I was thinking it was getting really short. I could feel his hand on my scalp measuring whatever he wanted to keep and what he decided to cut away. And that feeling was that it was very short.

I got to thinking I was glad my adrenaline was used up. I was tense but I had stopped shaking inside. I tried to relax and looked out at Ryan again. His mouth was hanging open. Surprise? Shock? But he looked to be in heaven. That helped me a little.

Then I glanced at Kelly. Her mouth was wide open in a big O. I could see a huge smile on her face. It seemed that at least one woman thought things were going well. She had her cell phone up and pointed at me, so I thought she had taken some pictures or even a video of the makeover.

The audience as well seemed to be appreciative of what Justin was doing. I remembered Rule Number 1 and kept smiling.

Suddenly, Justin turned the chair, so I was now facing sideways to the crowd and Ryan and Kelly. He told the audience, “Now, we’re going to have a little fun.”

Wasn’t what he had been doing already fun? At least for him and the audience? I knew I was apprehensive as hell. In spite of what I thought was going on with my hair, I was still enjoying myself.

He came back to me with some kind of tool in his hand. I recognized it immediately. Hair clippers. And I knew from my research on his previous models I was about to go much shorter.

I kept smiling but beneath the cape I also now had a vise like grip on the arm rests of the chair.

I have no idea what attachment he put on these clippers. But he held them up for the audience to see. I heard a sound that seemed to be “We’re impressed” from some of them. Then he pushed them up in front of my right ear.

Short little bits of hair fell onto the cape. Each time Justin pushed them up more hair fell as he moved to the back of my head. Up, up my head went the clippers, until I feared he was going all the way over my head. I felt like he was cutting at least as far up as where I would part my hair on either side. He went completely around my head making the hair uniformly short all around.

It seemed like this was not going to be an asymmetrical cut, which made me glad as I am not a fan of those styles.

I certainly had no idea what had been done. Justin turned the chair around, so I faced the audience once again. Most of the people seemed to be very impressed with what he’d done.

I looked at Ryan. He hadn’t smiled like this in years. I knew he was happy.

Kelly’s eyes were popping out of her head. Between the O on her mouth and the eyes, she looked like a caricature of her normal self. Was this not going well now? I started to worry what she thought.

Then Justin went back to the top. This surprised me as I thought it was already pretty short. Apparently, Justin didn’t think it was short enough.

Very tiny bits of hair fell. Based on the feeling of his hand on my scalp and how hard he was tugging I knew it was very short. I started mentally pleading with him. “Please, leave me a little length.”

My top finally seemed to be completed. Justin now went to his toolbox and grabbed his clippers again. He must have put a different attachment on them, but I couldn’t be sure

He went back to my right side and pushed these clippers up my head. It felt to be as high up as the first pass had gone. I could feel these clippers right against my skin. I knew instinctively my hair was being shaved off. Not a buzz, shaved.

Due to how loud the clippers were I couldn’t hear what Justin was saying to the audience.

I was getting scared again. How much hair was still on my head?

This time the hairs that came off floated down and the pieces were really small. Not even a quarter of an inch long. I felt like there couldn’t be anything left in their wake. And he went completely around my head, and now I was sure there was nothing left.

The audience seemed to love it, I could hear some hands clapping and a few whistles. Ryan definitely appeared to love it. I looked at Kelly for her reaction. She mouthed to me “You look beautiful!” I relaxed. If it wasn’t too over the top for her, then it would be Ok for me too.

I looked at Ryan again. His mouth moved and seemed to say, “I love you.” It was the most beautiful sight I think I’ve ever seen in my life.

Justin went to his tool chest and picked up something else. He held them up for the audience and said, “Now, to use these when your client’s hair is this short you have to be either really stupid, or really brave and you definitely have to be really careful. Let’s see how this comes out.”

I didn’t know what he was talking about, but I was pretty scared. What he just told the audience didn’t leave me with any feelings of comfort at all.

I felt cold steel touching my head and heard a soft crunching sound that moved around my head in random places. Then I heard Justin again, “Using thinning shears is a must when your client has hair that is as full of body like Tara’s.” Ahh, thinning shears.

I had never had them used on me. But at least I knew what they were. He stopped with them and shook them out in front of me. A huge tuft of my hair fell onto the cape.

YIKES! I barely remembered Rule Number 3 and Rule Number 1. But I managed to keep on smiling even though every nerve in my body was going at a hundred miles an hour. I thought to myself, “Tell him to stop Tara!” But I remembered Rule Number 2. No talking.

Justin was talking to the audience again. “As you can see, only a few passes across her head and her hair is behaving exactly the way I wanted it to.”

He put those scissors away and I heard what sounded like a jar lid being opened. He spoke to the audience again. “And now I’ll finish with this to make her hair shine and hold with body.” And he rubbed his hands together and pulled and twisted at my hair putting some kind of product into it.

While he was doing this, I could feel my hair seemed to be about as short as any model on his web page. I looked out for Ryan and Kelly to see if this was too short even for them.

Ryan looked as if he’d just won the lottery. Kelly gave me two thumbs up along with a big smile.

I tried to relax. Maybe it would be alright.

Justin turned the chair slowly in a full circle so the audience could see me again from all angles. I heard Justin again as he removed the cape. “Ladies and gentlemen, it doesn’t get any cleaner than that.”

The crowd jumped to their feet and the noise was deafening. Between the clapping and the whistles, it was pandemonium. The cameras went crazy taking pictures. My eyes had spots in them from all the strobe lights.

I looked again at Ryan, and he was standing with raised hands as if his team scored the winning run. I also noticed his hands weren’t the only thing raised. His pants had a bulge in them that even through the strobe spots I could see it from 30 feet away. But Ryan didn’t seem to care.

I smiled and looked at Justin, he had a hand extended to me. I accepted it and stood up from the chair, careful not to slip on all of my hair laying around. I looked closely and it was a huge pile of hair.

The cheering got even louder.

“Please let me introduce you again to Tara. Hasn’t she been great?” Again, the cheering. It wasn’t at all hard for me to keep smiling. The applause seemed to go on and on.

Once the audience simmered down, the other stylists and their models joined us on stage. It was time for the award ceremony to begin.

One of the models came up and hugged me and said, “You are going to LOVE how you look when you get the chance. That was one of the most amazing makeovers I have ever seen. Just accept the applause. Justin did an incredible job on you.”

In the end, Justin and I won first place in this all-state competition. He was awarded the prize as Top Cutting Stylist for the year.

Justin and I hugged on stage and then he took me backstage. I could finally touch my hair. But before I got the chance, he looked at me and said, “Please, don’t touch it yet. They are going to want more photographs. You’ll have plenty of time later to touch it. And put this in your purse, it’s a jar of the product I used on your hair.”

And we went back on stage to more applause and lots of photographs. They seemed to go on forever.

Finally, Ryan and Kelly came on stage and Ryan held me close, or as close as his bulge allowed. “Tara, you look amazing.” More smiling from me. Kelly told me, “Never in my life did I ever imagine you could look this stunning.” Tears were coming down her face.

And I still hadn’t touched my hair! What did I look like? Didn’t anybody have a mirror?

When things calmed down and the photographers all seemed happy, Justin took my hand. “Tara, I don’t think I have ever had a model as accepting of change as you showed today. When you get in front of a mirror, I hope you’ll agree I did a good job on your hair. Your hair is very short, but the change in your appearance is the one I have been searching for throughout my career. You are my Pieta. Thank You from the bottom of my heart. Please call the salon on Wednesday. I’ll have something for you.”

I know I blushed full red in the face at that compliment. Now did anybody have a freaking mirror? I wanted to see what I looked like.

That would have to wait a little bit longer though.

I turned to Ryan and Kelly. I was famished. I wanted to get home and eat. But Ryan had other plans. Kelly told me she would call me later and she left.

I looked at Ryan with a questioning look on my face. I was scared to death of the possible answer. “So, do you think I look OK? I still haven’t had even a chance to feel it let alone see what I look like.”

“Tara, I don’t know that I could be happier with how you look. Come on, I want to show you.”

And with that he took me to the elevator. When Justin and he had talked before the show he had reserved us a room for the night!

Ryan opened the room door, and I rushed past him into the bathroom. I knew there would be a mirror there.

I turned on the lights and got my first look at the new me.

OMG, OMG were my first thoughts. I didn’t recognize who I was looking at. The woman in the mirror must have come out of a fashion magazine. It couldn’t be me. But the image moved when I moved. It was a new me.

Slowly I assessed the face, the hair. It was startling to say the least. Three hours ago, there was a woman with no makeup, no earrings and lots of dishwater light blond hair. Now there was a woman who had the most perfect makeup coupled with the shortest, simplest, but most immaculately styled hair I had ever seen. I was overwhelmed.

My hair, where there was any hair at all, was about an inch long. Justin had hand combed it forward except for the bangs. Or what could be called bangs. These were swept up from the left to the right completely exposing my forehead. The sides and back were just a fuzz of hair. At least he hadn’t actually shaved me there. But, because of the blond hair it almost appeared to be shaved.

Any thoughts I had of Justin giving me some kind of pixie cut were gone. It would be months before my hair would be long enough to be called a pixie cut.

Ryan came into the bathroom to see my reaction. I turned to him. Even though I knew he liked short hair this was so incredibly short I was afraid I might lose him.

With my voice shaking a bit in fear I asked him, “Are you sure you think I look alright? I mean there isn’t much hair left. Do I look like a freak or something? Do you like it? Really like it?”

“Do I like it? Tara, this exceeds any dream I have ever had of you. But you’re the one that has to wear it. Do you like it?” Now it was his turn to be apprehensive.

I looked again in the mirror. More critically this time. Wow kept coming into my head.

Compared to my usual look, my hair was essentially gone. The sides, and I figured the back too, were almost shaved to the skin. I finally reached up to touch it. The top hair was only about an inch long, maybe just a bit longer than that. Justin had taken my sides all the way up to where I would have parted it on either the left or right. There was just a bit of transition from the faded sides to the “longer” top hair.

Whatever product he had put in it wasn’t sticky at all. It just held my hair in place. The sides and back were not exactly shaved. Apparently, his clippers didn’t take it all the way to the skin the way I feared it was. And the big surprise was, it didn’t feel at all like stubble. Not even like velvet. It was shorter than any velvet I’d ever touched. Not a hard stubble but very soft to the touch.

It didn’t really look like me at all. At least the old me. But I was in love with it. It was a new me and I really wanted a new me. And I wanted a new beginning with Ryan.

Ryan grabbed my arm and almost tore off my top and skirt. We were in bed in nothing flat. His hands explored my head and hair. His lips could not stop kissing me. I had feelings I had never had before.

For the first time ever, I unknowingly wrapped my legs around him and wouldn’t let go. He told me later how I wrapped my legs around him. It may have been the first time for this but certainly would not be the last. Sex today was better than I had ever had in my life. It was a wonderful time.

When we finally came up for air, Ryan said “Where has that been all this time?” I told him I’d never seen him as large as he was and how great that felt. We laughed about it, but I was hoping it really was a new beginning for us.

It was.

Then I remembered I was starving. Ryan had that under control as well.

We went out to show off the new me. Dinner was both fantastic and costly. Ryan’s eyes never left me. It made me a little self-conscious the way he kept his focus on me.

Three women come up to me in the restaurant to tell me they thought my hair was stunning and they each asked who cut it. That has never happened to me.

We walked around the downtown area and barely made it back to the room before Ryan was at me all over again.

Sunday came and we made it back home after an early morning frolic. We had to get ready for the normality of life once again. Ryan went out somewhere and came home with a pair of large hoop earrings with a red stone in them. I was shocked. Ryan calmed me down saying the stone was not a real ruby, just a nice imitation. We both thought they would go well with my new look.

Of course, Kelly showed up later in the afternoon. At least she had the good sense to give us some alone time.

“Tara, I liked this look yesterday and I am even more impressed today. What’s it feel like?” And I leaned forward to let her touch it.

She squealed in delight. “It feels even better than I thought it would.” Then she lowered her voice. “What does Ryan think?” I looked at her conspiratorially and whispered. “Ryan loves it. Our sex life is going into another gear.” More squealing from Kelly.

Later that evening I could see Ryan had been busy while Kelly and I were talking. Some serious manscaping had taken place. I loved how smooth he was. Another nice way to end the day.

At work Monday, of course every woman in the office had to give their opinion. My style was universally liked even though most of them said they would never have the courage to cut theirs like mine.

That was fine with me. After all, there’s only one Pieta.

I also called Chelsea and met her for some makeup pointers. I bought a lot of new makeup. I was going to complete my new look for everyday use.

On Tuesday, we had a big client come in for a regularly scheduled meeting. I was one of the accountants on that team. Over the past few months, I have researched and developed some ideas that I wanted to give to our senior management on this client and what we could be doing for them.

They were an old, established and large firm. Very conservative. And we controlled a lot of money for them. Before they came in, I had said something to Peter, the senior partner, about my thoughts. He took a look at me and said he didn’t think this would be a good time to say anything. I think he thought my new style may not go over well with the conservative client.

The client team arrived, and they all went into what we called The Fishbowl because the meeting room was all glass. The clients sat and my desk area was clearly visible to the Fishbowl. I felt eyes on me but kept my focus on my computer screen.

When I work, I usually wear a pair of what I called my “Nerd Glasses.” I don’t need glasses, I just used them to cut the glare from the screen. They were as fashionable as I could find at Walmart. Cheap but with a little flair. Fairly large frames and when I was wearing them, I felt like what I called them. A Nerd.

From the corner of my eye, I could see movement in the Fishbowl. Peter got up and was coming towards me. UH OH. What kind of trouble was brewing?

Peter came to me and said, “Tara, we need you in this meeting. Now.”

I got up so fast I forgot to put my Nerd glasses down. I entered the meeting, and the client looked at me and asked how long I had worked on their account and if I had any new ideas for them.

I glanced nervously at Peter and got a raised eyebrow in response. He seemed to be saying “Go ahead. Tell them what you’ve got.” And I did.

The client loved my ideas. The meeting wrapped up and it was about time to leave for the day. I was at my desk getting set to leave when Peter came by. “Tara, the client loves your ideas. They want to discuss them some more over dinner. Can you make it?”

I called Ryan to say I’d be late coming home after dinner with the client.

We all went out to dinner at a very nice place. I told the client there were certain areas we could take advantage of in anticipation of some new tax laws expected to come out of Washington. The senior member of the client staff seemed particularly interested.

As we got up to leave, a woman about my age sitting at a table near me reached out her hand and told me she thought my hair looked wonderful and she asked me who cut it. I was getting compliments everywhere I went.

It took a while, but we found that client seemed to like women with short hair. Kind of like Ryan. Our staff thought this client wanted some eye candy that was also smart. Nerd glasses and all, I apparently filled the bill. As time went on the meetings with this client seemed to become more frequent than ever. Our billing went up accordingly.

On Wednesday I called Justin’s shop as he had asked. They told me he’d like to see me Friday at 5 if that would work.

Meanwhile, Ryan and I had been at it like rabbits. He could not keep his hands off me. It seemed as if he had a permanent bulge in his pants. And I couldn’t keep my hands off his smooth parts either.

On Friday I arrived at Justin’s, and he immediately came out to see me. “Tara, you look amazing. You also look like you learned a thing or two from Chelsea, and I love the hoops.” “Yes, I called her Monday and saw her Monday afternoon and got ideas on what to do from now on. I have a lot of new makeup. Thanks for putting us in touch with each other.”

He motioned for me to come to his station and motioned for me to sit. “Tell me the truth. How do you like it, or do you not like it.”

I know I got a big grin. “Justin, you were right. I would never have asked for this style. But now I am absolutely in love with it. I am getting compliments from complete strangers and most importantly, Ryan loves it. I can’t thank you enough.”

“I am so glad. I wanted to tell you that if you want a touch-up, I am here for you. I think I should see you about every three weeks if this is a style you’d like to keep.”

Being an accountant, the thoughts of the costs involved with going to Justin every three weeks for a touch up ran through my head. Evidently, Justin could read my thoughts.

“Tara, this is on the house for as long as you keep this style. Just tell everyone who it is that cuts your hair!” We laughed at that, and I told him several women had already asked who cut it.

Justin continued, “If you ever want to change it, let me know and we can make arrangements for that too. At a substantially lower rate than normal.”

“Justin, thank you! I accept your very generous offer. I’ll make an appointment.” “Great. Even though it’s only been a week, the fade on the sides and back grows fast. Let’s start today and then you can see the receptionist about an appointment.”

And he quickly caped me and brought his clippers to my sides. When he was finished it looked exactly like it did last Saturday.

“But I should still do the top in 3 more weeks.” I readily agreed, got up and made an appointment for 3 weeks later.

Justin then reached into his pocket and his hand came out with a Memory Stick. “This is a video of your makeover from the show producers. You should have it.”

“By the way, the next time you’re in here I want to do a bit of color if you’re agreeable.” “I’d like that very much.” Now what kind of color change was he thinking about?

When I got home, Ryan immediately noticed the difference. Even as short as it was, he could tell just an eighth of an inch difference. He was ecstatic. And I don’t have to tell you what follows ecstatic.

Later that night we watched the video of my transformation in our bedroom. I was amazed at how calm I looked while my hair was falling down to the floor. You can imagine what happened next. Twice a day was becoming our new norm.

In the month before my makeover, when Ryan seemed to have no interest in me, I had not taken my usual precautions and while we were in the hotel we spent a lot of time in bed together.

About a month after my transformation, I realized I was late. The little stick from the drugstore confirmed my initial hopes. Apparently, my lack of precautions while we were at The Westin were providing some long-lasting effects. I only told Ryan though. He was overjoyed. Everyone else could wait.

About this time, I also got a huge promotion at work. The client seemed to love me and that influenced my firm to promote me to lead accountant on the account. I was now the lead at every meeting with this client.

Lack of money was no longer an issue with Ryan and me. We thought we were going to need it with the addition we were expecting.

But the best of all was that I was back in Ryan’s good graces. It was all more than worth it.

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