She sat on the edge of the bathtub, and tried to breathe. For the first time in her adult life, she was overwhelmed. Essentially she was new to parenting, hadn’t had a job for fifteen years and the stress of having very limited funds was starting to wear on her. Not to mention that her husband was MIA. And she was constantly followed by a dogged FBI agent. She stood up, determined not to think about Mike. She felt like an awkward twelve year old when she was around him. Where did that come from? It was easier just to put him out of her mind. She had more than enough to keep it busy. She looked in the mirror and became even more deflated. The fluorescent bulb over her the shell pink sink didn’t do her any favors. She ran her fingers through her dingy hair and realized she couldn’t blame everything on the lighting. She had another appointment with Mercedes the following day and just couldn’t take one more day of looking like someone who had never seen the inside of a Hair Cuttery, let alone Frederick Fekkai. Her hair was much too long and much too brown. She had successfully chewed her nails into nubs. She barely could wash her face with soap and water before bed, that was the extent of her beauty routine of late. She had gone to the Walgreens earlier in the day to pick up the ingredients for what would be her at-home spa day. She didn’t want to go to Soloman-Cooper, afraid that Conney would do a verbal inventory of everything she was buying.
