Funny story—before we met, Henry was dating this girl—not very seriously, mind you—who insisted—insisted—on doing everything herself. She had this picture in her head of, I don’t know, a perfect family? Crazy, right? Didn’t know the first thing about how the world really works. He dumped her, of course. Girl to girl? Don’t be naïve. Take the money. Use the money. You’ll be glad you did.
THE NAIL CLUB BY MICHELE REISINGER 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 72
INT. TRAIN—DAY
Katherine “Kat” London, 26, boards the River Line at a dismal city station. Stylishly but inexpensively dressed, Kat is a hard-working single mom who prioritizes her mother and son before herself, Sisyphus pushing boulders and worn out by same-old.
Kat carries a colorful canvas carry-all filled with lotions, nail polish bottles, and two large unsealed manila envelopes, their addresses obscured.
Her son Alex, 5, holds her hand and jumps up each step, Transformers backpack bouncing against his fat blue puffer, a robot arm poking through its incompletely zippered side. He is joy incarnate, eager and curious, Kat before her parents’ divorce forced her to grow up too soon.
Through the window, the late winter sky lightens and city streets widen to tree-lined suburbs, a river town of old-money houses and new-money cars.
Kat checks her client schedule on the phone, frowns, and then texts “CALL ME” to Henry, mid-30s, her ex-boyfriend and Alex’s father. Handsome and sleek like a jaguar, he is a big man with Little Man Syndrome, always looking to steal or fake an angle. He doesn’t answer.
The train slows as it approaches their stop. Professionals in suits and carrying leather briefcases enter the rail car as Kat and Alex exit. A sign atop the ticket kiosk advertises a local university: “YOUR FUTURE STARTS RIGHT NOW. ENROLL TODAY.”
EXT. TOWN—DAY
Alex removes the Optimus Prime Transformer from his backpack as they begin to walk, then hands the pack to Kat.
ALEX
Watch!
Alex folds and unfolds the toy from a robot to a truck.
KAT
I’m watching. Make sure you thank your gramma.
ALEX
Uh hunh. How come he died?
Kat, startled, opens her mouth to speak.Alex zigzags ahead of Kat, holding truck Optimus over his head and making engine noises. They approach a tidy but worn rancher sandwiched between two period-perfect Victorians.
ALEX
Optimus. How come he dint save himself and his friends?
Kat’s answer is cut off as the front door opens revealing Kat’s mother, Betsy, early-50s. She wears heavy make-up and leans on a cane, a better grandmother than mother, better neighbor than friend.
Alex grabs his backpack from Kat and runs through the gate to hug Betsy. He makes loud braking noises as he stops before they collide. Kat smiles and blows them a kiss before continuing to walk down the street. Betsy and Alex wave and enter the house.
INT. THE NAIL CLUB—DAY
Kat enters the Nail Club, a high-end salon whose interior boasts replica Roaring Twenties furniture and décor, and private nail tech stations recessed along the walls behind painted screens. Several techs are already tending to clients, their muted voices filling the salon like confessions.
Kat greets the receptionist and shows her the client schedule. The receptionist, mid-40s, is a bland-faced, brassy blond with kind eyes inviting confidences, the big sister-type Kat didn’t know she needed until need insisted.
KAT
You know who this is? She wasn’t on my schedule yesterday.
The receptionist looks at Kat’s phone and shrugs.
RECEPTIONIST
No clue. Why? Maybe Jess...
KAT
That’s not why I’m asking. It’s Henry’s wife. Why on earth would she...
RECEPTIONIST
Ooooh... You think she knows? Maybe he finally told her.
KAT
I have no idea. He’s not answering my text. Do me a favor, will you? Stall if she shows early?
The receptionist nods and turns to smile at an entering client.
Kat removes her phone from her bag and thumbs her contacts. She walks to her station near the corner window and shrugs out of her coat, jostling a framed photograph of herself and Alex perched in a tree in Betsy’s backyard as she drops into her chair.
KAT
Pick up, Henry. Dammit... Took you long enough... Yeah, well, I’m busy too. You know your wife is on her way in here? You know why? No, I was hoping you might have finally told her. So why’s she coming here then?