In Cathy’s Kitchen
In Cathy’s Kitchen – bob688
This is a work of fiction. Well, a part of it is fiction, anyway. I would note that the actions of our hero are not necessarily the best way to mend a broken relationship, in the real world. With all that said, enjoy the story, pass it arould if you like. [email protected] 1/97.
“Where am I going to take them today?” Jim asked himself. That question always came to him at about this point. He was on his bi-weekly trip to pick up his kids for visitation and never managed to plan ahead enough to know what he was going to do to entertain them and keep visitation interesting for them. He went through the mental list: the zoo, the mall, a pizza and a movie out, a video at home…Damn, he wished he had paid more attention to Friday’s newspaper.
Jim and Cathy have been separated for about six months. Neither one had filed any divorce papers, but several attempts to get back together had failed for one reason or another. It was not like they hated each other, but they did have some fairly major disagreements, problems which had been simmering for years, but which had only recently boiled over, leading to the separation.
He pulled up in front of the house and noted that familiar tightness in his stomach. Sure, he used to live here, but it wasn’t really his home now, it was hers. Up to the door, knock softly, and enter.
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“Hi! How are things? Are the kids ready?”
“Hi! Yeah, they’re up at the Wilson’s playing. I told Betty I’d call her when you’re ready to go. Ah…I was wondering, my hair is really ratty. Do you think you could cut it for me?”
“Shoot! Where did that come from?” he thought. He had managed to avoid several of her prior attempts to seduce him, but this was different, really different. They both knew that after he cut hair, he could never keep his pants on. He was never as horny as after giving a good haircut, and she knew it. This would call for some quick thinking.
“Oh yeah! I cut your hair and you have me arrested for assault, or tell some divorce judge how mean I was to you. I really don’t think I should.” He paused to let his rejection take effect. “Well,” he continued, “I guess I could help you if you don’t mind signing a statement. I could just write it here. Get me a sheet of paper.”
Cathy returned in an instant, pleased that her plan was still working.
Jim’s mind was racing, trying to figure out what he should write. Thinking quickly was not one of his strong points. He was much more comfortable when he could carefully plan and evaluate things. Nonetheless, he began writing. In this agreement, she would authorize him, indeed even request him to cut her hair when it needed cutting. She acknowledged that he is not a professional in this field, and relieved him of any liability in the outcome of any haircut. Finally, it imposed a $500 fine on either party for violating this agreement, and it could be terminated only with the agreement of both of them. He was satisfied that he had covered all necessary points. All he had to do was get her to sign it.
“OK. That should do it. It says that you let me cut your hair and you know I can do it right. Read it over and sign it if you agree”. He knew that she would never read the whole agreement, and wouldn’t understand the implications of it even if she did read it. Any more than a line or two of “legal stuff” was really beyond her interest or capability to understand.
Cathy made an effort to appear to be reading the document. What she could understand about it seemed alright. What really mattered was that he would be cutting her hair soon, and would be making love to her shortly after that. That would be enough to bring him back home. She just knew it would work. “Besides,” she thought, “he does give a good haircut”.
“OK.” She signed the paper and handed it to him for him to sign. Both parties sensed that victory was near at hand.
“Do you still have all the hair cutting stuff?” he asked. “You go get them while I set the chair up in the kitchen. It has good lighting and will clean up easier”.
Cathy hurried off and quickly returned with the small suitcase in which they had always kept the clips, combs, scissors and clippers. She sat down confidently and waited for her plan to pleasantly unfold.
Jim covered her with the cape and wet her hair. He began as he always had, by sectioning her hair, front, crown, left side, left rear, back, nape, right rear, and right side, carefully clipping each section. It was important that he keep her talking and keep her mind occupied. Fortunately, that was not a large task. He began a pleasant and continuous conversation while he decided exactly how to proceed.
Taking a sizable section of crown hair, he combed it out away from the head and slid it between two fingers. Leaving about one half inch of hair extending above his fingers as if to cut it there, he asked “How about this for a length? About a half inch?”
Cathy reached up and felt the entire length of hair, paying particular attention to the half inch of hair extending above the fingers. “That’s feels about right. Yeah, about a half inch.” She was pleased that he wasn’t going to make a big scene. His cutting her hair had become a very major issue between them over the years. She always felt he cut her hair too short, and slowly became uncomfortable with him cutting it at all. She had restricted him to cutting her hair only once a year. For his part, having been restricted to only one haircut per year, he decided to make it a good one (a very short one, as she saw it). A loud argument soon followed the haircut, which was followed by the separation.
While Cathy’s mind continued to review their married years and their separated months, Jim set to work on the haircut. Holding that same section of hair straight away from the head, he slid the scissors down to within a half inch of her head and carefully cut it, placing the resulting 4 inch length in a paper bag at his feet. He had to remember never to comb over the hair that had just been cut, but to restrict his combing to parts of her head which had not yet been reduced to a half inch.
Continuing his casual conversations, Jim picked up the next section and cut one half inch off the end, allowing it to fall over her shoulder and onto her lap. She, of course, quickly reached down and was comforted by the short clipping. Jim proceeded to cut this section to its half inch length, careful to retrieve any stray hairs.
The haircut proceeded as Jim had planned, always combing through the longer hair, dropping an occasional half inch clipping onto her lap, and placing the remaining 4 or 5 inch lengths into the paper bag. As the haircut proceeded toward the front of her head, it became harder and harder for Jim to control the shaking of his hands. This had gone much better than he could possibly have planned. He had finished the crown, the rear, and both sides, reducing most of her head to a soft half inch bristle. All that remained was the two front sections and her bangs.
Cathy, for her part, felt comfortably reassured by the constant stream of half inch cuttings dropping onto her lap and shoulder. The 4 inches or so of length remaining should be just long enough to curl and style, and short enough to control.
Jim carefully proceeded to cut the sides and bangs, paying special attention to expose the receding hairline she always carefully concealed above her left and right temples.
“Almost done,” he thought to himself, “and she doesn’t have any reason to suspect anything.”
“OK, almost there. I just need to clean up the hairline at the nape.” He reached for the clippers he had always used for this purpose, and turned them on. Although Cathy knew what to expect, that sound always startled her.
“Put your head down. You’ll be done in a moment.”, Jim ordered. As Cathy bent her head down, exposing her nape and crown, Jim carefully reached forward and placed his other hand on her forehead. His mind raced with the possibilities: clipper just the nape, quickly run a path from her crown to her forehead, or maybe a path up the back of her head.
After several short passes at the nape of the neck as he would usually do, Jim brought the clippers to the crown and started a path toward her bangs. Cathy, who had become so comfortable as to almost go to sleep, swiftly awoke, yelled “JIM!”, and attempted to raise her head. As she did so, she only drove the clippers more quickly toward the bangs, and they exited her forehead just as her head became erect.
He knew what to expect. “Wha…Wha..What are you doing? What have you done?” She reached up and surveyed the damages again and continued. “I have to go to work Monday. What the heck am I going to tell everyone?…” Just as he expected, her face was bright red by now, the veins on her neck were bulging, and she had run out of words with which to clearly express her thoughts.
“Wait a minute,” Jim confidently started. “You have nothing to complain about. I came here to pick up the kids. You’re the one who wanted a haircut. Do you think I don’t know what you were trying to do. I’m not stupid” Jim paused just long enough for his assertive attitude to sink in.
“And besides, you read the agreement we both signed here. I can cut your hair whenever it needs cutting, and I can cut it however I want. This shouldn’t come as any surprise. I’ve been after you to let me cut your hair for years. But no, you wouldn’t let me. You made such a big friggin deal out of it. Now, finally, I get to cut your hair. Its legal and proper. Now sit down. You look like a complete idiot. Let me finish, and then you can go get yourself a nice wig or two. Who knows, by the end of the weekend, you may even see how nice a haircut it really is.”
After a few moments, the phone rang at the Wilson house up the street. “Hello Betty,…”
THE END, or maybe just a new beginning
Who is it calling the Wilson house, and what do they have to say?
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