The night before my trip to New Hamp­shire, I vis­it­ed Super­cuts for a trim with Vicky. We’ve devel­oped a close rap­port dur­ing my fre­quent vis­its; she always metic­u­lous­ly cuts my short hair while engag­ing in delight­ful con­ver­sa­tions. Though we are of sim­i­lar age, Vicky appears youth­ful with her long dark hair and bright smile. A devot­ed read­er of his­tor­i­cal romances, she often shares insights about the Tudors and Vikings, con­sis­tent­ly show­cas­ing a new book dur­ing each appoint­ment.

Vicky, who has been mar­ried and divorced twice, proud­ly dis­plays pho­tos of her two chil­dren on her work­sta­tion mir­ror. Her son, Todd, resides in Brook­lyn and works for the Wall Street Jour­nal, while her beloved daugh­ter, Janet, trag­i­cal­ly passed two years ago from a drug over­dose. Janet’s pres­ence still graces Vick­y’s mir­ror through cher­ished mem­o­ries of fam­i­ly mile­stones, under­scor­ing her last­ing impact on Vicky’s life.

In recent weeks, I had con­fid­ed in Vicky about my com­pli­cat­ed rela­tion­ship with Mag­gie, our unex­pect­ed rec­on­cil­i­a­tion, and the upcom­ing wed­ding. Her atten­tive lis­ten­ing and thought­ful inquiries have made me con­tem­plate invit­ing her to the wed­ding, although I dis­missed the idea since we’ve nev­er social­ized out­side the salon.

That night, Vicky ded­i­cat­ed extra time to my hair­cut in prepa­ra­tion for my trip, offer­ing a hot tow­el treat­ment that felt heav­en­ly. She insist­ed on treat­ing me by waiv­ing the cost, fram­ing it as a wed­ding gift. As I left, I noticed two teenage girls skate­board­ing out­side a Chipo­tle and felt a cre­ative impulse to invite Vicky.

Return­ing to the salon, I found Vicky with a young boy in her chair. Sur­prised by my pres­ence, I pro­posed the idea of her join­ing me in New Hamp­shire. Despite her flat­tered response, she explained that she had pri­or com­mit­ments and could not leave her col­leagues behind dur­ing the busy week­end. Vicky offered to catch up after my trip for lunch, encour­ag­ing me to share wed­ding sto­ries and pho­tos, press­ing her busi­ness card into my hand as a reminder.

Though I had sev­er­al cards already, her ges­ture felt reas­sur­ing, and I promised to call her.