Daniel parked his Mercedes wagon in the hair salon’s driveway beside two cars and a bicycle. He approached the lighted shop window and over the crunch-crunch of gravel heard women laughing and the clink of glassware. Two women drank champagne through long glass straws and made that sucking sound when they reached the bottom. One woman with the champagne poured all three of them another round.
The woman pouring must be Marie of the nice voice, he thought. She looked nice, too, in a northwest-country-plaid sort of way.
A tall, slender, dark-haired woman with native features wore overalls and a “Plant Native” t-shirt. He noted her athletic build and supposed she owned the bicycle out front.
Diana would like her, he thought. She needs somebody to like besides her flytrap.
The other woman looked about forty, with strawberry blonde hair like Diana’s and freckles spattered across patches of sunburn. Her tight yellow “Jean’s Sailboat Repair” t-shirt and red yoga pants revealed narrow dancer’s hips and long, very fit legs.
Only three, he thought. Really, only two! He masked his disappointment with a smile.
Daniel had hoped for at least six people, a stable and a pantry, of sorts. Neither he nor Diana could afford disappointment, and the life he wished for hinged on the success of this venture. Marie waved him inside for introductions, flashed him a smile, made good eye contact and offered a firm, warm handshake.
“We’re enjoying champagne, would you like some? Also we have coffee and little triangle sandwiches that Alice brought.”
Daniel smelled hot blood blushing up the Plant Native’s deeply tan neck and face.
Tan? He wondered. Ethnicity? Northwest people were hard to peg among the mix of Asian Americans, Pacific Islanders, Native Americans, and caravans of gypsies who rolled up from California every year after Easter.
She dropped her gaze and acknowledged with a quick, waist-high wave. He imitated her wave back, and she cracked a smile but still didn’t meet eye to eye.
Daniel turned to the tray of sandwiches, generated a look of interest eclipsed by regret. “They smell delicious,” he said. “A smoked meat of some kind?”
Alice glanced at Jean, then Marie, who nodded in support, then the sandwiches.
“Smoked elk,” Alice said.
A quiet, clear voice.
Alice cleared her throat and spoke a little louder, “My Dad. East of the mountains.”
“A rare treat!” he said. “I’ll try one while you three are relaxing.”
Daniel unpacked his sample case and set three of his squeeze bottles onto the countertop. He shook hands with Alice of the sandwiches and overalls, and with Jean of the freckled sunburn. He envied a sunburn that wouldn’t kill him.
He explained the exfusion process and told them what to expect.
“It gets warm, tingles, turns from gray to pink,” he said. “While removing toxins, it tightens the skin and erases wrinkles. A light exfoliation also occurs, so please wash your faces clean of other products before we proceed.”
Marie handed out hot towels from a hamper beside their chairs, and they took turns at the shampoo sink. Marie tossed the used towels into another hamper and sat first. Daniel gently massaged the gray goo onto her face. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the massage with a smile.
“It’s getting pretty warm?” she said, in the American way of asking a statement. “How hot does this get?”
“Warm is normal,” he said. “It comes up to body temperature and pulls blood to the surface. Pulls the good things in, pushes the bad things out.”
He massaged gray goo masks onto Alice and then Jean.
“Yours is changing already, Marie,” Jean said. “It’s as pink as my nose.”
“Then it firms up with a tingle, gets red,” Daniel said. “Then, no lines.”
“Very nice tingle,” Alice said. “What does this cost, usually?”
Daniel and Jean met each other’s gaze. Parts of Jean not covered with goo flushed red. He smiled.
“Marie has an intro rate,” Daniel said. “Rates would change depending on numbers and frequency.”
Marie didn’t answer right away, and he didn’t elaborate. Money was not important to him, just the product. The only sounds were the heater hum, the scuff of Daniel’s shoes on black-and-white checkerboard linoleum, the fizz of champagne as he filled their glasses. Marie finally answered in a dreamy, faraway voice.
“Depends on his success, he means,” Marie said. “We get a break for helping with his startup. We need to spread the word so he sticks around.”
“The price?” Alice stage-whispered.
Daniel positioned their glasses and straws so they could sip through their goo.
“Daniel gets fifty dollars for the hour, then ten per person for the mix.”
“So,” Jean said, “for five people it’s twenty bucks apiece.” She spoke to Marie but kept her gaze on Daniel. The other women relaxed in their chairs, eyes closed. Nobody spoke.
Jean cleared her throat and said, “Such a deal!”
Marie roused herself and replied in a whisper, “That’s my cost. I’d have to add ten apiece to make it worth my shop time. Plus a freebie for myself, of course. Thirty dollars to start.”
Alice said, “This is bliss for thirty dollars. An earthquake couldn’t move me now.”
Daniel checked each mask and spoke softly to all. “Be sure to wait another hour before driving, especially after your champagne. You’ll be too light in the head.”
Jean tried to capture her straw and didn’t see that she had a glob of red goo on the end. Her lips almost closed on it when Daniel plucked it away, startling Jean. He regained her gaze and showed her the glob of red.
“Not for the insides,” he said, and winked. “Just for the outsides.”
He turned to the sink, tapped the glob into his palm and stopped his tongue from licking it up. He rinsed the straw, turned back to the table and smoothly pressed the glob back into Jean’s mask, holding her cheek for a couple of beats. He placed the straw into her drink and the other end at her lips. His fingers touched and lingered on her lips for just a moment. She gave them a tiny kiss and giggled.
“Thank God for light in the head,” Jean said.
The other women giggled, then relaxed to the point of dozing. All masks darkened from pink to red. Daniel nibbled at a sandwich while he circled their chairs, tested the goo on each face with a finger. Smoked meats never agreed with him, but he choked it down with an appreciative smile.
“Interesting,” he told Alice. “Never had elk.”
Again, he lingered over Jean, unable to resist the lightest touch on her neck and shoulder. Jean smiled without opening her eyes.
“This is to die for,” she said.
Marie leaned farther back in her chair while Daniel gently peeled the soggy, red mask from her face. Eyes still closed, she said, “I dreamed I was flying. Long, featherless wings. Just a slit of moon.” She paused. “A little sting when you pulled it away.”
Daniel formed the pack into a red mud-ball and slipped it into a large plastic bag. Alice and Jean looked fast asleep, so he watched them for a moment. Alice could be Diana’s type, for sure. He’d have to be careful there. He still liked Marie’s voice, but his real attraction was to Jean. The suddenness of it surprised him. He peeled off Alice’s pack. Even her darker complexion had a glow.
“I feel kind of disoriented,” Marie said.
Daniel worked Alice’s pack into another ball and said, “That’s normal. Your blood vessels expanded, your pressure is lower. Except for that champagne, no more toxins. Relax and enjoy.”
Daniel added the second pack to his collection bag.
“Feels illegal,” Alice whispered.
“BioCosmetology,” Daniel said. “I started in biochemistry, and one thing led to another. I have a patent. Really, it was an engineering problem.”
Alice smiled, eyes closed, and said, “Just kidding.”
Daniel peeled away Jean’s blood-red pack, placed it into the collection. Jean’s eyes fluttered open.
“Marie,” she said, “that’s the best thirty dollars I ever spent.”
Jean stood and reached for her drink. Vertigo spun her half-around and she grabbed the counter to get her bearings. Daniel caught her by the shoulders to guide her gently back to her chair.
“Please don’t move yet. Just relax while I finish cleaning up.”
Jean winked at Marie then leaned back in her chair, closed her eyes, breathed deep. Daniel removed steaming towels from Marie’s warmer and wiped each woman’s face clean. A rusty, reddish hue stained the towels that he tossed into Marie’s linen basket. Jean opened her eyes that shone with a new glitter.
“Isn’t this how heroin addicts start?” she asked. “A freebie?”
Daniel kept his hands on Jean’s shoulders.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” he said. “It’s really un-addiction, the removal of addicting compounds from the blood.”
Jean asked, “God, can we do this every day? Can I afford this every day?”
Daniel turned serious and put up a warning hand.
“No,” he said. “Better for me financially to do more, but it’s good for the face once a week. You don’t want to work your beautiful skin too hard with anything.”
“Pity,” Marie said, “I’d make a fortune.”
Jean laughed and said, “I know you. You’d go broke lying up in your room with your face pack on.”
Daniel placed the collection bag into his black leather case.
Marie said, “You can throw those in my garbage, if you want.”
Daniel felt his expression harden and immediately softened his gaze, smiled his best you-can-trust-me smile.
“I’m still refining the process,” he said. “You described a little sting, so I’ll analyze these and see how to work that out.”
“Protecting your secrets?” Jean asked.
He thought, You have no idea.
As though she read his mind, Marie told Jean, “The product world is a cutthroat business. Pays to be careful.” She handed mirrors to Alice and Jean. “You two, look at yourselves!”
Jean moved the mirror closer, farther, and gushed, “This was me before all the sun and salt water! Do I really have so many freckles?”
Alice stared at the mirror, ran her fingers across her forehead and down her cheeks. “I can’t believe it,” she whispered.
Marie patted Daniel’s shoulder and asked, “When can we schedule you again?”
He checked his phone, feigned scrolling through a calendar.
“A week from today?” he asked. “I can’t recommend any sooner.”
Marie nodded, closed her eyes and sat back. “One whole week,” she sighed. “Okay with you, ladies?”
“Yes!”
“Absolutely!”
He marked his calendar. “Okay, one week from today. Please, keep the group small, no more than six. Otherwise, it’s an assembly line and not as much fun.” Daniel and Jean exchanged smiles and maintained eye contact.
Jean said, “Maybe you need an assistant. And this goo needs a sexy name. I’ll bet you patented under the unpronounceable chemical name.”
“Well, yes …”
“See, you need a manager, too!”
“Just don’t take his prices out of our range!” Marie said. “I’d better write that down in my book.”
Marie started to get up but Daniel’s gentle hand on her shoulder placed her back onto her chair. She marveled for a moment at the dream-like light that suffused the room.
“Relax,” he said. “I’ll write everything on my card.”
He uncapped an old-fashioned fountain pen and wrote the details on the back of his card in beautiful calligraphy, including his new email address. The printed side read only “Mr. Daniel, BioCosmetology.” He glanced at Jean, who winked, then added his cell phone number. He gave Jean a slight bow and said, “I’ll see you in a week.”
He washed his hands, picked up his case, and quietly let himself out.
Jean closed her eyes again and leaned back in her chair. “I can’t let that one get away, Marie. If you don’t give me his number, I’ll strangle you in your sleep.”
Alice, a little wobbly getting out of her chair, asked, “Where will you get the energy?”
“Tomorrow,” Jean said. “I’ll come by and strangle her tomorrow.”
Alice steadied herself on the back of her chair and said, “He’s the whitest guy I’ve ever seen! Maybe he bleaches.”
“Whiter than Jean,” Marie said. “But Jean has freckles to break up the glare.” She stood slowly and offered Jean a hand up. “I have to get to the kids. You two be careful driving.”