Second Chance by L. Divine Read Free Book Online

comes from Mama when she’s sitting in that chair. Just like when she’s cooking, Mama’s on a different level when Netta gets in her head.
    â€œNetta, don’t be taking all afternoon. I got beans cooking on the stove,” Mama says, while Netta pushes the lever at the bottom of the salon chair to make Mama sit up a little higher. Netta shifts her weight from one side to the other on her cushioned stool behind the chair. Netta’s a big sistah, with pretty brown skin and platinum blond hair cropped real low to her scalp.
    â€œI thought you said you wasn’t doing no cooking for them fools this week. That’s what you said last week.” Netta remembers everything like a tape recorder.
    â€œLook, Ms. Nosey, I ain’t cooking for none of them fool men in that house, ain’t that right, Jayd?” Mama says, looking to me for validation. I just shake my head and say “whatever” because Mama knows she ain’t telling the whole truth. She doesn’t cook for Daddy anymore, but the rest of them fools still look to her for some table droppings every now and then.
    â€œJayd, I tell you what you should do,” Netta says, referring to the latest episode of Misty the Meddler . I already filled them both in on today’s drama. “You need to get your Mama to put a root on that girl, show her who’s boss,” Netta says, careful not to burn Mama’s ear. “It seems like every time you have a problem, that girl’s behind it.”
    â€œDon’t tell that girl that, Netta. She already got them kids thinking we’re a voodoo house,” Mama says.
    â€œBut, Lynn Mae, you do have a voodoo house, or is this the wrong queen sitting up in my chair? Now, you want some hold spray with sheen or shea butter?” Netta asks Mama, already knowing what she’s going to do, no matter what Mama’s answer is.
    â€œHold spray,” Mama says.
    â€œOkay. Shea butter it is. That’ll give it a little sheen plus protection from the elements,” she says, spritzing Mama’s hair lightly before pressing it, without waiting for Mama’s approval. “Your mama can get rid of any enemies, ailments, issues, you name it. Why you don’t give her a root bag or something, get that little hussy away from her, Lynn.”
    â€œNetta, keep your voice down. Walls have ears,” Mama says. She don’t like airing her laundry all willy-nilly.
    â€œWell, I’m sorry. But from where we’re from, Jayd, your mama’s a modern-day Marie Le Veaux.”
    â€œYes, and they persecuted me like her too,” Mama says, looking into the mirror while Netta parts another section of her hair. “I used to love working in the shop with Netta, Jayd. Thought I was gonna do hair for the rest of my life, until I met your granddaddy and moved to Texas and then, eventually, here.”
    â€œYeah, your mama sho’ could do some hair, girl,” Netta says, taking over Mama’s story. “She has a special touch, like every time she washes your head your whole body gets clean. Can’t nobody do a head like your mama.” Netta’s got that right. During certain cleansings, Mama washes my head, and it feels like every problem I’ve ever had instantly disappears. I know Netta misses working with Mama. Mama said they used to try out new styles on each other. Not anymore, though.
    â€œIt broke my heart when them people on Bourbon Street boycotted my chair. Granted, it was the sixties, but they picked the wrong cause to protest,” Mama says, looking close to tears. “I never did a thing to them people. See what rumors can do, Jayd? Those people heard I made a doll for the senator’s wife, and they got scared to let me in their heads.”
    â€œBut what does doing hair have to do with a doll?” I ask, a little confused. I’ve heard this story time and again, but each time I get a little more out of it.
    Netta