The Change

Proserpina

I was more than a little surprised when Melissa turned up in the afternoon, bringing along with her, a hairstylist and a beautician.

“What?’ I gaped at her in alarm.

‘You are beautiful as you are,’ she said smartly, hands on hips like she was addressing one of her first graders, and then wagging her forefinger at me severely, she went on,

’But right now, I think you need to look your Best. Which is not true as of now. You need to look at your hair. It’s a mess.’

I shrank. It was true. I had not been sleeping or eating well. My long brown tresses looked dry and brittle. I sighed and turned away but she grabbed my arm.

“Look, you dish up the best food in the world and you are an amazing Mom. But you need to take care of your body, your looks, too.’

I nodded slowly.

So the next two hours of the afternoon went by in giving me a manicure and the works. I dozed off as the beautician worked on me, massaging my body with her deft hands. When I came awake, I felt rejuvenated, my bo