Marcy said suggestively over the phone to Lily, who was repacking for her girls’ stay with their father. “What are you going to do?” “Nothing, really,” Lily said, wondering how her youngest expected to make it through the weekend with no socks, no underwear, no pajamas and three hair bows and a half a dozen toys. Honestly. Lily dug into the sock and underwear drawer, grabbing a handful of both for Brittany. “Lily, you can’t just sit there and wait for life to come to you. You have to get out and meet it sometimes,” Marcy claimed. “I may meet my hairstylist and get my hair done,” she said. Best she could do. Marcy sighed heavily, as if Lily’s life was such a chore that Marcy had to manage. “I like getting my hair done!” Lily said. Truly, she did. It was nice and quiet in the salon, and she loved having someone else fuss over her hair. Just getting it washed felt good, and that little bit of scalp massage, and then having someone run their fingers through her hair….
