That earned the smallest breath from her, but her eyes still filled with tears.
“There’s a girl in my class named Millie,” she said. “She’s in remission, but her hair hasn’t grown back properly yet. Today the boys laughed at her in science. She cried in the bathroom, Mom. I heard her.”
Letty held up the ribboned hair. “I looked it up. Real hair can be used for wigs. Mine won’t be enough on its own, but maybe it can help.”
“Baby…”
“I know it looks awful.”
“She cried in the bathroom, Mom. I heard her.”
“Like you got into a fight with hedge clippers and barely survived,” I said.
She let out a short laugh, then wiped her eyes. “Was it stupid?”
Jonathan had lost his hair in clumps on a pillowcase. Letty had never forgotten. Neither had I.
I stepped forward, took the scissors from her, and pulled her into my arms. “No,” I whispered. “No, sweetheart. Your dad would be so proud of you. I know I am.”
She cried into my shoulder for a moment, then leaned back. “Can we fix my hair? I look like a founding father.”
Letty had never forgotten it.
An hour later, we were at Teresa’s salon. Letty sat under a cape while Teresa examined the damage and sighed softly.
Teresa’s husband, Luis, walked in halfway through and paused when he saw the ponytail on the counter.
“What’s all this?” he asked.
Before I could answer, Letty said, “A girl in my class needs a wig.”
He looked at her properly, then smiled at me in the mirror. “Hi, Piper. That’s Jonathan’s girl, all right.”
My daughter straightened slightly in the chair. “You knew my dad?”
“A girl in my class needs a wig.”
Luis nodded. “Yes, sweetie. I worked with him for eight years.”
She touched the ends of her hair. “He would’ve liked this haircut?”
Teresa snorted. “No decent man would support a bathroom haircut, my girl.”
“Mama,” Letty protested.
“But,” Teresa added gently, “he would’ve loved the reason for it.”
Luis leaned against the station and looked at Letty. “Your dad couldn’t stand seeing people suffer alone. It used to drive him crazy.”
“He would’ve loved the reason for it.”
Letty looked down at her hands. “Millie tried to pretend she didn’t care, but she did.”
“Of course she did, baby,” I said.
Teresa stayed late. Between fixing Letty’s hair and combining it with hair already set aside for pediatric wigs, she managed to complete one by the next morning.
Before school, we picked up the wig.
“Do I look weird, Mom?”
“You look like yourself,” I said. “Just with less maintenance.”
“Of course she did, baby.”
That made her smile.
Then she lifted the box slightly. “Do you think Millie will actually wear it?”
“I don’t know, sweetheart. It might feel uncomfortable. But even if she doesn’t, she’ll know how brave and kind you are.”
Two hours later, Principal Brennan called.
By the time I reached the school, my hands were damp against the steering wheel.
Mr. Brennan was already waiting outside the office.
“What is this?” I asked. “Who are these people?”
That got a smile out of her.
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