Shonee's POV
The next day
"Ok! Let's check to see if we have everything." I pulled out the list I'd made earlier. "Hair dye."
"Check!" Mirasol happily lifted the purple tube-like container.
"Application Brush."
"Check!"
"Hair Clips."
"Check!"
"Gloves."
"Check!"
"Barbering Cape"
"Check...wait. What do we need a barbering cape for? Are you going to cut my hair?" She stared at me, alarmed.
"No," I chuckled. "This is just to protect your clothes, in case some of the dye drips out of your hair."
"Oh, ok."
Taking the synthetic material from her, I pushed it into the basket with all the other hair products we had gathered. "Let's continue. Vaseline."
"Check!" Mirasol picked it up.
"Shower cap."
"Check!"
"Shampoo."
"Check again!"
"And finally, hair conditioner."
"Check!" She smiled, dropping the last item into the basket.
"Great, let's get everything into the bathroom."
Excited, Mirasol quickly grabbed the basket and ran off. "Yes! It's time for operation purple hair."
A chortle left my mouth as I stood up. It was a warm Saturday morning and Mirasol and I had just returned from the mall after purchasing everything we needed for her hair-dying session. This morning, she was bursting with so much exhilaration that she ran up to my room and rudely woke me out of slumber. I wasn't complaining though, in fact, I was happy. I was gradually changing Mirasol for the better, teaching her how to have fun and enjoy life.
A knock sounded through the door and Gerta stepped in. "Hey, heard you guys came back not too long ago."
"Yeah, under sixty minutes, we were in and out. Mirasol couldn't stop talking about getting purple hair. She even told all the shop attendants about it."
Gerta laughed, "It's good to see her like this, smiling, happy and having fun. If only her father was around to see it."
"Yeah, where is he anyway?"
"On another business trip outside the country," the elderly woman sighed. "After that argument with Avril yesterday morning, Vincent couldn't stand facing her. So, he left, trying to salvage what he could from the assets Beckham Incorporated had already lost."
"So..." I began thoughtfully. "It's true? Avril's father's deals are the only reason why Vincent's company is still running?"
"Yeah, and those deals came with strings attached. That's why Vincent has to marry Avril even though he hates her guts."
I pursued my lips. Part of me felt bad for Vincent. He had this huge responsibility on his head, yet he wasn't making any breakthroughs. Now his success was dependent on tying the knot with a woman he didn't even care about.
"Shonee!" Mirasol's scream jerked me out of my thinking stupor, and I hurried over to the bathroom. Gerta's laughter echoed behind me.
"Mirasol, I'm here. Let's get you seated and ready."
The little girl plopped down in the bathroom chair, and I began to undo her braided pigtails.
"You've done this before, right?" She asked before brushing her nose.
"Of course, I dyed countless hairs back when I was in college. I even gave my best friend rainbow hair once for the Holi festival."
"Ooo rainbow hair!" Mirasol exclaimed. "I want rainbow hair too!"
I laughed, "Maybe another time, Mira."
"Like on my birthday?"
"Sure, like on your birthday."
Making sure that her black strands of hair were completely dry, I grabbed the barbering cape and wrapped the hems of the material around her neck as it flowed down, covering her clothes. Next, I slipped on my gloves and pushed Mirasol's chair close to the mirror.
"Ok! Ready to get your funky hair on?"
"Ready!" She beamed, lifting her hands and I immediately got to work.
Grabbing the familiar Vaseline container, I started lining her hairline, ears, and neck with the thick petroleum jelly to avoid stains from the dye application process.
Hairdressing wasn't my calling, but it was a skill I'd picked from my mum when I was a teenager. She was a professional hair stylist who owned a salon in downtown Manhattan. Every day after school, I'd go over to help her out, since it was our only source of livelihood. My dad abandoned us years ago when he found out that my mum was pregnant with me. I came into this world not knowing who my father was and after a few random attempts, I never bothered to ask my mum about him because she made it clear that he'd hurt her so much that there was no point looking for him.
Using one hair clip at a time, I began to divide Mirasol's hair into manageable sections and started mixing the dye.
My mum ran her salon for close to fifteen years until she was diagnosed with stage four stomach cancer. The emergence of her disease was the birth of all our problems. Back then, I was in my second year of college and could hardly keep up with running the salon and all my studies. Eventually, the business collapsed, and my mum became bedridden. Not long after, she passed away, leaving me to fend for myself in this cruel world. Though things started difficult, I wasn't one to complain. I may be in debt, but I'm proud of how I came out despite the uncertainties.
Finally mixing the dye to its required consistency; I used the application brush to dye each section of her hair evenly, starting from the middle of the strands and working my way down. The plan was to go for something spring-themed yet classy and fun. I massaged in the dye with my gloved hands, making sure to cover all the tips of her hair.
"Ok, now we have to wait for thirty-five minutes for the dye to set in." Pulling off my gloves, I took out my phone and set the timer. "In the meantime, let's look for a dress good enough for your reveal."
"Ooo! I want something princess-like!" Mirasol chimed in.
"Gerta recommended that you wear your Elsa dress from the Frozen," I said.
"Eww, no." The little girl shook her head. "That won't match cuz Elsa doesn't have purple hair."
"Ok, then what do you want to wear?"
A thoughtful look graced her features until a bright smile replaced it. "I want my little pony Rarity outfit!"
"Which one is that?" I asked walking into her room and opening her closet. For a five-year-old, she had a lot of clothes.
Mirasol jumped off her chair and ran after me. "It's right here." Digging a hand into the mass of hanged clothing, she pulled out a purple and white dress with a pony in the middle. The dress had a big puffy tutu around it and a big bow on the side.
"Rarity is a designer and has her own dress shop in Ponyville," Mirasol beamed as she held up the outfit. "I want to be just like her when I grow up."
"I'm sure you will sweetheart," I complimented. "Now let's see if we can get this ironed and later check on your hair."
*****
An hour later
Clearing my throat, I stepped out into the living room. "Presenting the brand new, smart, and intelligent royal of the Beckham Palace, Princess Mirasol."
She stepped into the room donning her purple outfit and matching it with a pair of ballet flats. The dye in her hair had set in and I'd succeeded in gathering hair up into a high ponytail, leaving a few coloured ringlets on the side of her face. With a touch of lip gloss and a sparkling tiara, she looked every bit like the princess she was inside.
Gerta had successfully called every staff member who was on duty for Mirasol's reveal, and they watched the little girl twirl in their presence as they applauded and cheered.
Mirasol was all smiles and beams.
Getting her to change her attitude and personality wasn't easy, but I was quite happy that my efforts had paid off. Standing right here with Gerta and the rest of the staff, this was us saying a fat goodbye to gloomy Mirasol, and a big hello to the new and improved, fun and super happy Mirasol.