The White Seam

The White Seam

Miriam held the scissors still when Martin reached toward the back of her neck.

He hadn’t meant anything by it. A clump of hair had fallen under her collar, and he wanted to brush it away. She wasn’t even the one in the chair. He was sitting there, a black cape reaching down to his shoes, while she stood behind him. The whole movement had been awkward, an outstretched hand in the wrong place.

Even so, she suddenly gripped the scissors so hard that her knuckles turned white.

“Don’t.”

Martin pulled his hand back.

He saw his sister in the mirror. Her hair was shorter than it had been at the funeral, gray at the temples. A thin, pale line ran from her hairline down the back of her neck and disappeared under her collar.

“You’ve got something there.”

“Old scar.”

She brushed the hair away. Then she pulled up her collar and smoothed it with her palm, as if she needed to hide a price tag.

“Head straight.”

Martin straightened his head.

The salon was closed on Mondays. A sign on the door made the friendly promise that they’d be there for you again on Tuesday. Outside, people passed with umbrellas. Car tires drew dark streaks through the rain. A man stopped at the window, read the hours, and walked on.

“The letter from the court,” Miriam said. “Did you bring it?”

“In the car.”

“Good.”

The scissors went back to work.

Martin didn’t know how long his sister had had a scar on her neck. He didn’t know when she’d stopped eating lunch, either, or whether the man their mother had mentioned a year ago was still in her life. He knew she had taken over the salon twelve years ago. That the loan was paid off, because their mother had told him. That Miriam had appealed a long-term care insurance decision and won.

He knew almost exactly what the hospital bed had cost.

“How much off?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

She looked at him in the mirror. “Your hair, Martin.”

“Oh. Whatever you think.”

She breathed out through her nose. It wasn’t a sigh. A sigh would have taken more time than she had.