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“TThe warm bubbles felt so relaxing as I slipped my feet into the water. A much needed mani-pedi. I hadn’t done this in years. I closed my eyes for a serene solitary minute. 

“Hey that tickles!” I muffled a giggle. 

The manicurist had started massaging my foot. I looked over at Rena in the next chair flipping through a magazine. She was already having her toes painted a bright tropical coral. Going to the nail salon was a routine occurrence for her. 

“Remember when we used to go with Bubby to the beauty parlor when we were kids?” 

“Yeah. So?” 

“Going with Bubby was the first time I ever got my nails done. I remember I wanted a French manicure and the lady laughed because I used to bite my nails and they weren’t long enough. I was so disappointed. That’s why I stopped biting my nails.” 

Rena closed the magazine in her lap and gazed at my hands. “You still like to keep them short. I like this pale pink color for you.” She carelessly handed the manicurist the bottle of nail polish and began to turn the pages of the magazine again. 

I watched as the manicurist bent over my right foot then my left painting each toenail with precision. Then we put paper flip-flops on our feet and waddled over to another area to have our fingernails manicured. As I soaked my hands in a soapy bowl of water my cell phone rang. I didn’t need to answer it. I knew who was calling.

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