“Yes.”
“I thought if I complained, you wouldn't marry her.”
Daniel looked up.
“And you thought that would hurt me.”
Ava nodded.
He closed his eyes.
An eight-year-old had been protecting his romantic happiness.
Something had gone terribly wrong long before the scissors.
Daniel walked around the island.
He sat beside her.
“I am sorry.”
Ava looked at him.
“I should have made it safe for you to tell me anything.”
“You did.”
“No.”
He shook his head.
“I loved you.”
“I listened sometimes.”
“But those are not the same.”
Ava’s eyes filled.
“I didn't want you to be lonely.”
Daniel pulled her close.
“You are not responsible for keeping me from being lonely.”
“Ever.”
“Okay?”
She nodded against his chest.
“Okay.”
“You can dislike someone I love.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“You can tell me.”
“Even if I marry someone someday?”
“Especially then.”
Ava leaned back.
“You're going to get married again?”
Daniel laughed weakly.
“Not tomorrow.”
“Good.”
That weekend Susan took Ava to a salon.
Daniel went too.
They chose a stylist named Teresa who specialized in children’s hair.
Before touching Ava, Teresa sat across from her.
“Tell me what you want.”
Ava looked at the uneven side.
“I want it long again.”
“I can’t make it long today.”
“I know.”
“We can even it out.”
“That means cutting more?”
“Yes.”
Ava’s face tightened.
Teresa nodded.
“Or we can leave it uneven for a while.”
Ava blinked.
“You can?”
“Of course.”
“I thought it had to be fixed.”
Teresa smiled.
“Hair does not have to look finished for other people.”
Ava looked at Daniel.
He said nothing.
Choice.
That was the whole point.
After several minutes, Ava said:
“Just cut the broken side a little.”
Teresa showed her exactly how much.
“This much?”
“Less.”
“This?”
“Yes.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
Only then did Teresa cut.
Ava watched in mirror.
She did not cry.
Daniel nearly did.
The result was still uneven.
One side shorter.
Layers around her face.
Not magazine-perfect.
Ava smiled.
“I like it.”
Teresa smiled.
“Good.”
Daniel paid.
In the parking lot Ava touched the new shape.
“Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“I changed my mind.”
His stomach dropped for no rational reason.
“About what?”
“I don't want to donate it when I'm ten.”
“Okay.”
“I want to wait.”
“Okay.”
“Are you mad?”
“No.”
“But we planned it.”
“You're allowed to change plans involving your own body.”
Ava smiled.
That sentence eventually became one of the most important things Daniel ever said to her.
Lauren’s apology arrived two weeks later.
Not directly.
A letter.
Daniel read it first because Ava asked him to.
Dear Ava,
I have started this letter six times.
I kept trying to explain why I cut your hair.
Every explanation sounded like I was asking you to understand something you never should have been responsible for.
You told me no.
Your dad told me no.
I did it anyway.