Note: See Part 1 for all pertinent info and the disclaimer.



Part 3

Thursday, November 6, 2003
Foxy Roxy's Hair Haven

Natalie slowly pushed the door open and walked inside.

"We're not open yet," Roxy Balsom hollered from the back.

"It's just me."

Roxy peeked at her from behind the partition, "What are you doing here?"

"I work here."

"Well, no duh, Einstein. I mean, why are you here?"

"Because I have bills to pay and I need money to pay them and in order to earn the money to pay my bills I have to work," Natalie explained as she walked across the room and took her coat off before placing it and her purse in the back room.

"Hey, kiddo, I thought I told you not to worry about that. They don't call it paid leave for nothin', you know."

Natalie walked over to her work station and tied her supply apron around her waist, "I've taken enough time off as it is. Besides, maybe it'll be good for me. Working will take my mind off of other things."

"Yeah but what happens when a customer starts yakking about her love life and you start thinking about Cristian and burst into tears? That's not gonna be good for business."

"Gee, Roxy, it's always nice to know that you have so much faith in my professional ability."

Roxy ambled over to her, "Oh, c'mon, Natty. You just lost your husband. The man you loved more than anything in this world. And you'd just gotten married. You didn't even get to celebrate your one week anniversary and what would have been your one month anniversary is just around the corner --"

Natalie stared at her, "Are you trying to make me feel better or worse? Because if you're trying to make me feel better, you're doing a terrible job. But if you're trying to make me feel worse, you're succeeding."

Roxy frowned, "Aw, I didn't mean to bring you down." She scratched her head, "I'm not too good at this sort of thing. I'm only saying that you might need to take a little more time for yourself. You don't go from locking yourself in your room and crying your eyes out one day to coloring hair and filing nails the next."

"That was last week, Roxy. Everyone, including you, has told me that I can't just stay locked up by myself. Besides, the last thing I need is for everyone to start watching me and wondering when I'm going to have a breakdown and that's exactly what they're going to start doing if I don't at least try to get back into the swing of things."

Roxy shrugged, "If you say so." She started to turn around when she stopped and placed a hand on Natalie's arm, "Hey, listen, if things start getting a little rough for you today --"

"I'll be okay, Roxy," she insisted. "But thanks for caring."

"It's the least I can do, right?"


* * * * * *

Roxy skimmed through the appointment book, "You can take off for lunch now."

"I'm not hungry," Natalie said as she flipped through a magazine, lounging in a chair.

"Ya gotta eat, honey."

She looked up at her, "Who said I wasn't eating?"

"No one. But, you know, sometimes, some people don't eat when they're upset."

"I'm just not hungry right now."

"Well, in that case, I'll be back in half an hour." Roxy untied the strings on her apron and tossed it onto a chair before grabbing her coat and purse.

"Alright."

Roxy paused when she reached the door and looked over her shoulder at Natalie, "You sure you'll be okay alone? Maybe I should wait until Janelle gets back from her doctor's appointment."

Natalie rolled her eyes, "I'm fine. Just go."

"I'm going," Roxy said as she walked out of the salon.

Natalie watched the door close and sighed. She resumed flipping through the magazine. It had been several minutes since Roxy had left when she suddenly had the strange feeling that she was being watched. She lifted her head and looked out the front window to see her Uncle Commissioner Bo Buchanan standing in Angel Square talking to another police officer and John McBain. They must be discussing the serial killer case, she thought as she turned her attention back to the magazine. A few seconds later she felt like she was being watched again and looked up to see John glancing in her general direction as he continued talking with her uncle.

"Why did the crime scene have to be so close to my place of work?" Natalie muttered as she threw down the magazine and pushed herself up out of the chair. She walked into the back to escape his view and flopped down into a chair. She laid her head back and closed her eyes. Why does everyone feel like they need to watch me? I lived my life day by day before I even knew that Cristian Vega existed and I can live my life again now that he's gone. I'm a fighter, I'm strong, I can do this. I --

"Natalie?" She opened her eyes and there was Marcie Walsh with a concerned look on her face. "Didn't you hear me calling?"

Natalie blinked and sat up, "I guess not."

A sympathetic smile appeared on Marcie's face as she confided, "Sometimes I like to be by myself so that I can just zone out and think about Al. Remember the good times that we had. Even though we weren't together that long."

Natalie studied her for a moment. "How are you, Marcie?"

Marcie looked a little surprised, "Me? I'm doing good. Shouldn't I be asking you that? How are you doing?"

Natalie sighed, "I'm not really sure. Sometimes…"

"Sometimes you just want crawl into a hole and die and sometimes you want to beat the people or person you hold responsible for your pain into a bloody pulp?" Marcie offered.

Natalie allowed herself to smile, "Yeah. Something like that."

"It'll get easier, I promise."

Natalie glanced down at the floor then she looked back up at Marcie as she stood, "Are you here for something?"

"Just meeting my brother. We're having lunch at the diner. Would you like to join us?"

"No. But thanks."

Marcie nodded, "Okay. Well, you know, if you ever want to talk -- I mean, I kinda know what you're going through -- in a way -- so, if you need someone to talk to, I'm here."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Hey, Marce," Ron Walsh said as he walked in through the back door. "You ready to go?" He noticed Natalie, "Hi. I'm sorry to hear about your husband."

Natalie forced a smile, "Thanks."

Ron turned his attention back to Marcie, "You ready?"

"Yeah."

Ron walked to the front of the salon and waited at the door.

Marcie shifted, "I meant what I said. If you ever want someone to talk to, someone who understands --"

"I'll let you know."

"'Kay. Bye."

"Bye." Natalie heard the door close and walked back around to the front. She glanced out the window and was relieved to see that John was no longer out there and let her eyes wander to the angel statue. "When is it going to get easier, Cristian?"