Chapter 2: Hair Nightmare

Clara was sick and tired of how the stress of the wedding was affecting her. Her nausea had gotten so bad that she was actually starting to lose weight and she was more exhausted than ever. Her breasts had gotten even bigger and she knew that next week, it would be hard to fit in that ugly wedding dress, though for different reasons than before. Eleven weeks down, less than one week to go, she thought. She couldn't wait for it to be over. Linda's demands were getting absolutely insane. She wanted teacup pigs with candles strapped to their backs to wander around the wedding, providing a nice atmosphere. Thankfully, Clara had managed to persuade her to give up that particular plan. Unfortunately, she still had to somehow measure up, so to speak, to her future step-mother's tall, beautiful, extremely blonde bridesmaids whose very presence practically screamed 'cougar'. Clara knew that this whole stress thing was worrying John and that he was concerned about her health. He had suggested that she see her GP about it, but she insisted that she would be fine when the wedding was over. She didn't want him to worry. She had actually insisted that he accept Jack's offer to go to a local pub and watch a game. That left her alone in her flat with just the cats for company. Suddenly, Clara heard her mobile ring. She quickly answered it. "Hello."

Linda's voice oozed from the phone, "Hello, Clara, darling."

Clara bit back a sigh and said, "Hello, Linda."

"I hope that you're doing well. I was wondering if you'd do something for me. The wedding is next week and I was hoping that you would bleach your hair."

"Bleach my what?" Clara blurted.

"Your hair." Linda said. "All of the other bridesmaids are blonde and it would be so wonderful if you all matched."

"Linda..." Clara sighed.

In that fake-sweet tone, Linda said, "Just think about it, okay? I would appreciate it sooooo much!"

Clara held back a growl of frustration and said, "All right. I'll think about it."

The petite teacher then hung up and let out the growl that she was holding back. Linda wanted her to bleach her hair. Her smooth, shiny, beautiful brown hair. Ten years ago, she might have done it, but she had come to appreciate her hair. At a loss for what else to do, Clara dialed her father's number. The dial tone sounded a couple times before the phone was anwsered. "Hello, Clara. How are you doing today?"

Unable to hold back, Clara blurted, "Linda wants me to bleach my hair."

Dave was silent for a moment before saying, "Well, that's not that difficult of a request, is it?"

"Dad, it's my hair!" Clara groaned.

"You can always dye it brown after the wedding." Dave said reassuringly.

"Dad..." Clara sighed.

"Clara, she's not asking for much. Could you please just cooperate with her?" Dave asked.

Clara held back a groan. It was for her dad, she told herself. She finally bit back a sigh and said, "Fine. How hard can it be?"

"Thank you very much." Dave said happily. "You won't regret it!"

"I'm sure that I won't." Clara said sardonically. "I'll see you next week, Dad."

"Bye, sweetheart!" Dave said.

"Bye, Dad." Clara replied before hanging up the phone.

The petite brunette let out a sigh and did a quick Google search for what was needed to bleach one's hair at home. Having found what she needed, she wrote down a list before leaving her flat to head to the appropriate store.

ooooooooooooooooooooooo

It was almost midnight when John got home. He'd had more fun with Jack than he had expected. It was like the good old times again, minus the pansexual doctor chatting up random men, women, and anyone who identified as otherwise. Jack loved his current boyfriend, whom he had been going steady with for a while. Hanging up his coat on the coat rack, John quietly made his way into the flat, trying to make sure that he didn't wake a probably-sleeping Clara. However, as he walked further into the flat, he could hear sobbing. It seemed to be coming from the lavatory. He quietly headed over. The closer he got to the lavatory, the louder the sobbing got. He then realized that the person who was crying was Clara. John didn't hesitate to hurry over to the open door. "Clara, are you alright?" a concerned and somewhat frightened John asked, fearing the worst.

Clara turned to look at him, her face and eyes red from crying. That was the first thing he noticed. The second thing was that her hair was bleached- badly. It was overprocessed to the point that it was ruined. The broken, uneven hair on her head was severely damaged and there was a pile of hair on the floor and clumps of bleached hair in Clara's hands to prove it. The only thing that was untouched was her roots. John knelt down and said, "Oh, Clara."

"I-" Clara tried to say, but she broke into sobs once again.

John took her into his arms, holding her close and stroking her back comfortingly until, slowly, the sobbing and shaking subsided. He released his girlfriend and asked, "Can you tell me what happened?"

"I tried to bleach my hair at home." Clara choked out. "Linda wanted me to be blonde for her wedding and Dad said to cooperate and I was doing this to make her happy so he'd be happy."

John mentally cursed his girlfriend's future step-mother. Were it not for her overbearing demands driving Clara to such distress, this wouldn't have happened. She had silky, beautiful brown hair and now it was ruined. John brought a hand to Clara's cheek and stroked it with his thumb. "Tell you what. I'll take you to my hairdresser tomorrow. She'll know what to do."

Clara sniffled before saying, "You go to a hairdresser?"

John chuckled and said, "How else do you think that I learned how to keep my luscious curls looking so good?"

Clara hiccupped and let out a weak laugh. "I'll be surprised if she can fix this."

John smiled at his girlfriend and said, "If anyone can fix it, Rashmi can."

Clara gave her boyfriend a weak smile. The doctor returned the smile and helped his girlfriend to her feet. "Come on." he said. "Let's go to bed. It'll all be better tomorrow."

Clara nodded and followed him to their bedroom. There would be nothing sexual going on tonight. All that happened was John holding her, providing comfort in her time of need.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

John, being his hairdresser's favorite client, managed to get an emergency appointment. Clara saw that the woman was of South Asian descent and very organized. When she saw Clara's hair, she let out an audible gasp. "Oh my goodness!" she said, her voice altered by a slight Indian accent. "John, what happened?"

John grimaced and said, "Her father's future bride coerced her into bleaching her hair."

Clara sniffled and said, "It went terribly, terribly wrong."

"I can see that." the woman said sympathetically.

John brought his arm around Clara, looked at the hairdresser, and asked, "Do you think you can fix it, Rashmi?"

Rashmi gave Clara's hair an appraising look. She then smiled and said, "I'll see what I can do." She gestured towards one of the chairs. "Have a seat, Clara."

Clara sat down in one of the chairs. The hairdresser came over and began to examine her hair. She was doing a very thorough job. Finally, Rashmi spoke. "I have good news and bad news."

"Bad news first." Clara said desperately.

"The bad news is that most of your hair can't be salvaged." Rashmi replied. "It's too badly damaged."

"What's the good news?" Clara asked.

"Everything within two and one-half centimeters of your roots is untouched." Rashmi said. "Those parts aren't damaged at all."

"Can you do anything with it?" Clara asked.

The hairdresser gave her client a comforting smile. "My dear, I am Rashmi Chaudhary. If I can cut John's hair and teach him how to take care of his curls properly after 47 years of chaos, split ends, and frizz," She ignored the sound of protest that John made. "I can make your hair look amazing."

"All right." Clara said with a nod. "I'm putting my hair in your hands."

Clara sat back as Rashmi put a cape on her and worked her skills on the damaged hair. The teacher could feel her hair getting wet, thoroughly soaked. Then came the cutting. Then, she felt something parting her hair. Then came more cutting as Clara felt piece by piece of her horrifically damaged hair fall away from her head. Her head felt lighter and lighter. There was a bit of blow-drying before Rashmi finally declared, "Done."

Rashmi turned the chair so Clara could see in the mirror. The bleached, extremely damaged hair was gone. In fact, most of her hair was gone. She wasn't bald, though. Instead, her hair was cut and styled into a pixie cut. Because it hadn't been bleached, it was the shade of brown that it normally was. She looked over at Rashmi, who declared, "You. Are. Fabulous!"

John walked around the chair to get a look at Clara's new haircut. The petite brunette looked at her boyfriend and asked, "What do you think?"

John smiled and said, "As always, you're beautiful."

"What I mean is," Clara said, "Does it look good?"

"It looks amazing." John replied. "I never thought that I'd see you with sort hair, but it looks good."

Clara looked into the mirror and said, "It really does look good." She looked at Rashmi and asked, "What now?"

"I'll give you a list of products that you'll need and how to care for a pixie cut." Rashmi winked at the shorter woman. "Don't worry. Since you're John's girlfriend, I'll give you a list of things that aren't all that expensive. Just don't tell my boss, okay?"

Clara smiled at the hairdresser and said, "Okay."

Once everything was cleaned up, Clara headed over to pay. It was a bit more expensive than she'd like, but Rashmi had salvaged her hair. Before they left, Clara said, "Thanks, Rashmi."

Rashmi just smiled and said, "Any time."

John smiled at his girlfriend and gave her a quick kiss. Clara looked at her boyfriend and said, "Well, at least I'll look good for the wedding."

John chuckled and said, "You look beautiful no matter what your hair looks like. Linda would be a pudding brain not to appreciate you."

Clara and John left with smiles on their faces. Things were going well, she could tell. She needed something to eat, though. Right now, chocolate ice cream with prawn-flavoured crisps and pickles sounded good.

oooooooooooooooooooooooo

It was the day before the wedding and Clara had to meet with Linda one last time before the wedding. She was horiffically nauseous and had vomited twice on the way over. She was carrying a bottle of water with her and sipping on it. Despite losing a bit of weight, breasts had gotten bigger and her tummy seemed to have grown a teensy bit. It wasn't really noticeable unless someone was really looking. Hopefully, she would still fit in the dress. In another room, she could hear Linda loudly ordering people around. Clara touched her hair, trying to pull together some confidence. She looked really good with a pixie cut, she had decided over the past few days since her haircut. Clara took a deep breath before walking through the doorway. Upon her entrance, Linda immediately noticed her without even looking her. "It's about time you're here, Clara." she said tersely. "Everyone else is here."

Linda then turned around to face Clara. When the older woman saw her, she let out a loud, dramatic gasp. The other bridesmaids looked at her well and also let out dramatic gasps of surprise. Linda's eyes narrowed as she asked in a tight voice, "Clara, what did you do to your hair?"

"It's a pixie cut." Clara explained. "I-"

"You were supposed to have blonde hair!" Linda said angrily. "You were supposed to keep it at its normal length!"

"Something went wrong." Clara tried to explain. "The bleaching-"

"I don't care what your stupid excuse is!" Linda snapped. "Your ugly haircut is going to ruin my wedding! What on earth possessed you to do this?"

It was then that Dave walked in. Linda rushed over to Dave. She pointed at Clara and said, "Look what she did! How could she do this? She's trying to embarrass me at my wedding!"

Dave frowned and said, "Clara, I know that you don't like Linda, but that's no excuse to try to sabotage her."

Linda pointed at Clara and said, "You are out of the bridal party! You are not going to be in any pictures!"

Clara looked at the disappointed expression on her father's face and felt her stomach drop. Linda looked at her soon-to-be husband and said, "Tell her that she's not invited to the wedding anymore!"

Linda then stomped away, leaving Clara and Dave alone. Dave sighed and said, "Clara, why did you do this?"

Clara tried to speak, but no words came out. Dave looked at his daughter and said, "I'm not going to try to make Linda take you back as a bridesmaid. However, you're my only daughter. I can't un-invite you. You're still invited to the wedding." He paused for a moment before adding, "Whether you will be in pictures or not is something I'll have to talk to Linda about. I'll see what I can do."

"Dad..." Clara said softly.

"I can't leave you out of this entirely." Dave said. "You're my daughter. I'll talk to Linda." The older Oswald looked around before looking back at Clara. "You should probably leave for now, though. It'd be best not to make Linda any angrier."

Clara nodded and said, "Okay."

Dave smiled and said, "I'll see you at the wedding."

Clara nodded once again and left. Things had gone so wrong today. She didn't know what she was going to do tomorrow. All that she could do was try to be patient and hope that her dad could salvage the situation.

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