The hairdresser, in his thirties, trendy, and rather obviously gay, hovers over him. “How would you like it, sir?”
“Just shorter and tidier. Whatever’s the style for the local men of my age around here.”
“Very good, sir. And the beard?”
“Shave it off. I’d like my own face back.”
“Um…” I raise a hand. Two pairs of eyes swivel toward me.
Klempner inclines his head. “I didn’t have you down as a fashion critic, James? Or a style guru.”
“It’s nothing to do with fashion. If you’ve looked in the mirror recently, you’re half-skeletal. If I might suggest, keep the beard. It’ll fill out your face a bit while you regain your weight. That way, it won’t be so much of a shock to Mitch when she sees you.”
Charlotte interrupts. “Dad, you can’t let Mom see you like that. She might mis-ca…” She stumb
