My mother beautifies my wife

I married Grace in July of 2016. She was the most beautiful thing I ever saw in my life, my mother did not think so. See, I am kinda a mama’s boy and my wife knew that. Honestly, she should have not married me because of that factor. But when I told her my mother might try to make her do things to prepare her to be my bride, she wasn’t hesitant to say she loved me. I was quite taken aback, most women like her run at this point but her eagerness to marry me despite the hardships she might face because of my mother really told me she was the one for me.

We planned to get married on Good Friday and I couldn’t wait to see her walk down the isle. A day before the wedding, I saw my mother was getting ready to go out. I asked where she was going and she replied,”Grace asked me to do her hair for the wedding tomorrow. You’ve picked up your suit from the Cruz’s, right?”

”Ah, shoot”,I exclaimed,”I got to get on that”

”Don’t worry”,my mother replied,”I’ll retrieve it on our little trip to the shop”

I thanked my mom and finished up my work for the day. It wasn’t much work and when I was done, I had a bachelor party to attend. My boys were wild and there was no short of booze. Even though I said no; my buddy, Aiden, he invited five hookers to the party. I looked at them and left the party alone, Grace was the only one for me.

Back at home, I scrolled through my phone before my mom returned home. She looked at me; smiling. I asked what she was smiling about and she caressed my face and whispered,”She’s definitely a keeper”. With her so close to me, I spotted a strand of hair on her shoulder; it was long, curly, and red: just like Grace’s. I wondered what kind of change my mother gave her: a great change!

It was my wedding day, I put on my suit and tie. My best men were the only few guys that weren’t hungover: I guess they’re my true friends. They congratulated me before the ceremony which I couldn’t help but blush and laugh at. I rode with them as my mother was part of the procession with my wife.

Me and my mates set out chairs for the guests and Dan, the best man that would stand side by side with me, prepared the appetizers for the event. The dude was done and in his suit in an hour: I’m pretty sure he’s a god. All of us guys, with the chaplain, rehearsed the ceremony and we goofed off while doing it.

Finally, it was time. My mother looked so happy seeing me up at the alter. I looked on as my darling bride walked down the isle and stood beside me. Her face was covered in a shroud and when I lifted it, her face radiated onto my face. She smiled at me and I kissed her and she kissed me.

Everyone cheered and clapped as we made our way to the reception. I looked at her when we walked, never wanting to take my eyes off her. When we got into my mom’s car, I realized why. As the car drove, my wife started to remove her veil; all her red hair, that I have fallen in love with, was gone. Her smooth scalp was a new sight for me and I didn’t know if I liked it.

When my mom had a second alone, I asked her,”Why is my wife bald?”

”I know what’s best for my boy”,she replied,”Her red hair had to go. It distracted from her pretty face”

”Did she consent?”I queried.

”With a little coaxing”, she smiled,”Look. She’s gorgeous, even you agree or you wouldn’t have married her”

At that, I glared at my mother,”She is my wife, that much is true. But I love for more than the color of her hair. And I find it idiotic that you think that I would go as far as to let you shave it all off”

”Listen, buster”,she rebuked,”What I did happened. We can’t change the past. And I don’t like when you question the actions of your mother”

I hated what she did but she was right. She was my mother and I needed to trust her judgment but… I don’t know. There was no harm in having a bald wife and if she agreed to it, even though under sketchy circumstances, I had to her choice.

In fact, I asked her when we were applying for a home if she did consent to have her head shaved. She smiled and said,”I was hesitant but your mom said you would like a bald wife. She said you have a thing for baldies”

I gave her a confused look. I don’t recall having a crush on a chick with no hair. The only people I could think of fitting that description was Amber Rose and Vin Diesel. To be honest, I don’t know what my mother was talking about.

After we bought the house, my wife’s hair started to grow back. I chose to let it grow by asking my mom to not come visit for three years. The lie I told her was I wanted to experience life with my wife and that we needed to renovate the house. My mother didn’t like the idea but tried to see it my way and she agreed that I needed to grow.

My wife asked me if she should shave her head again. I told her if she wanted to but I wouldn’t force her to. She liked me being supportive of her decision and she kept her hair growing down her back.

But three years were too long for her, my mother called me two and half years later that she was coming for a visit. I was uncomfortable, would she? No, no she wouldn’t dare.

I kept an eye on the driveway and sure enough, her blue car managed to park itself in the driveway. She didn’t look a day over fifty, I’m lying of course, but that was what I told her. Grace hugged my mother I could see plans forming in my mother’s eyes.

We all went inside and made small talk for a while. My wife went to go my mother and I some drinks and snacks. When she had left the room, my mother leaned over to me and asked,”She’s getting a bit shaggy, ain’t she?”

I looked at her,”Please, mom. She’s fine”

”No son of mine is going to have a wife with unkempt hair”, she preached in a whisper,”Fine, I won’t shave her bald this time but I’m not leaving until she gets cleaned up”

”Can I ask you something?”

”Sure, son”,she replied.

”Why are you so obsessed with my wife’s hair?”

My mother looked at me and reached for her hairline. I almost screamed when I saw my mother with a bald head. She set the headdress down on the table in between us and said,”This is beautiful. This is wifely”

I couldn’t speak or see my wife entering the room. When I did, she was nonchalant. I was surprised by her demeanor, I asked her,”Did you know”

”That she is bald”,she finished my sentence with a smile,”Yep”

”Why didn’t you tell me?!” I was frustrated.

Grace set down the drinks in her hand and went back into the kitchen for the snacks as I tried to form a response. My mother only gave a perplexed look and sighed,”My husband, your late father. He wasn’t really fond of my brunette hair and gave me five-hundred dollars per month to shave it all off. When we went out, I wore a wig”

”And when I was born?”

”That was luck”,she smiled,”When you were born, your dad died and I made a choice. And besides, I did look hot bald”

My wife returned with the snacks and she sat beside me after putting them down. She put her hand in mine as my mother looked at us. I had lost my voice again so she talked.

“My son is such a tease”,she addressed Grace,”Ain’t he?”

Grace nodded as I guessed what she would say next. But my mother continued to joke about me instead of talking about hair. Got to hand it to her, you can never guess her next move.

But, rest assured, the topic wasn’t far behind. And she asked it at such an odd time, we were eating at the dining table and she piped up,”So, my son. Have you decided on a hairstyle?”

I was silent as my wife looked at me,”I knew I was due for a haircut”

I almost spit out my food when Grace said that,”What?”. Grace told me my mother wanted to visit her shop in four weeks or so so she could keep her head shaved but he said that they should work on the house and so she didn’t bring it up again. It was all confusing.

What could I do? I was back into a corner and forced to make a decision for my wife: I didn’t want to. Instead of staying silent, I blurted out,”If my wife wants her hair cut then she can choose the style”

”I see”,my mother said, turning to my wife,”Then I will shave her head again”

”Hey”,I replied,”Grace chooses the style”

My mother glared at me but shrugged,”Fine. What style would you like?”

”Oh”,Grace thought for a moment,”I don’t know. What’d you-“

”She’ll have a flattop”,I contradicted myself, it was just that I knew what my mother would recommend. And I did like my wife with a little hair. My mother began to nod and asked my wife,”Is that what you want?”

Grace nodded and it was settled. I considered myself an idiot, it was all my fault that this was even happening but I could nothing to prevent it. My mother was hellbent on cutting my wife’s red tresses and my wife was willing to let it happen.

After we ate, my wife laid down a bunch of newspaper and set a chair atop of that. But when my mother saw the scene, she took away the chair, saying,”No daughter of mine is going to have her hair cut on a dinky, wooden chair. I have something better”

That something was a full on beauty chair, straight from her workplace as a hair stylist. I was a bit nervous as my wife sat in the chair and my mother covered her in a cream-colored cape. She pumped up the chair and undid Grace’s big, red bun to make into four, long braids. My heart was almost pounding in my chest as my cosmetologist mother put on her black apron and open her hairdressing kit.

From it, she held silver clippers. She plugged them in and turned them on without a guard. I watched as she came close to Grace with the tool and with it, the blades sailed through the braid and severed them completely. The braids found a home on the kitchen counter.

My mother put down the clippers, still on, as she separated my wife’s crown from the rest of her hair. She then picked the active clippers up and proceeded to go up my wife’s left sideburn with them. Again and again, til it was all micro stubble, she made sure the side looked bare. Behind Grace, my mother tilted her head down to her chest.

When all of the sides were bare, my mother ruffled my wife’s crown. With a comb, she made a literal field of red. I had to admit, my wife did look gorgeous and I did say that to her which made her blush. My mother finished by tidying up the edges of the top.

My wife’s lap was littered with her red tresses and we swept them up off the floor together. She was truly the one for me.