The Front Room Filled Again With Heads That Had Names

I read Wade's correction at my worktable, beneath the lamp he had wanted to replace with a sales screen.

It used the words he had signed in court.

There was no mention of my age. There was no claim that kindness had made him employ me. It named the orders, the money, and his own acts.

Jun replied to everyone.

Thank you for correcting the record. Our dealings with Mrs. Getachew have been clear and professional.

It was two plain sentences. I printed them for the office file.

The remaining $11,750 arrived eighteen days after the judgment. Wade had sold his truck and made a separate transfer to cover the gap. Nola checked that both payments had cleared before she counted them as returned funds.

The deposit account held $43,000 again.

Then it began to empty for the proper reason.

Lantern Road received $9,600. Cypress Stage received $8,400. Pelican Hall received $6,200. Redbank Players received $5,400. Parish Light received $4,800. Willow Tent received $4,000.

Lena received $4,600.

Each refund had a bank confirmation and a receipt in Nola's file. The final balance was zero.

I checked the total with her. Then I checked the names.

"No one left out?" I asked.

"No one on this list."

Not every hurt went away with the money. Cypress Stage delayed its opening by a week. Redbank used hats in scenes that had been meant to show fine dressed hair.

I wrote each company a personal note with the refund notice. I did not ask them to praise me or book again. I gave them a direct number for any question about the records.

No customer filed a further claim. Nola kept their written confirmations with the closed refund file.

Lena called after hers cleared.

"I still need display heads," she said. "Blank ones. Ones you actually mean to sell."

I laughed for the first time in weeks.

"I can give you the name of a maker."

"Will you get a fee?"

"No. He makes good heads. That's the whole arrangement."

Mara completed the company records and the filings needed to show me as its sole member. The bank removed Wade's remaining access. The office passwords changed. He returned his company card and the last paper files through his lawyer.

He never came back to the workshop.

For eleven months, his cost payments arrived through Mara's office. When the last $300 cleared, the full $5,300 had returned to my savings.

Mara sent the final receipt. I put it behind the judgment and closed the metal box.

I did not need to carry it around anymore.

The workshop took longer to settle into itself.

Ruth and I moved the fitting chair back to the front window. We took the new desk apart and used its wide top for packing finished wigs. I kept its drawer for blank order forms.

Every form now had a space for my written fitting dates. Deposits went into a separate account, and Ruth checked the weekly report with me. Nola reviewed the books each quarter.

"Still thirty dollars an hour?" Ruth asked as we set our next schedule.

"Thirty-two now. You earned it."

She grinned and threaded her needle.

The cream trunk stood on a low shelf in the back, away from damp floors. I replaced its torn lining and left the bent brass corner alone. Its twelve molds rested in cloth bags, with the names turned inward.

I had told the performers whose forms had traveled what had happened. Each knew the trunk was home and that none of their molds had been sold.

Our front shelves held the display heads again.

People stopped to look through the glass. Sometimes they came in to ask whether we fixed everyday wigs. We did, when the schedule allowed.

Jun called about a new production the next spring. Eight wigs, eight weeks, with fitting dates chosen before anyone discussed a deposit.

"Who approves the work?" he asked.

"The maker," I said.

"Good. Put her on the phone."

I could hear his smile.

We signed the order only after I had counted the hours. The first fitting was set for a Thursday morning.

That morning, light spread across the floor from the window. Outside, a delivery truck bumped along the brick street. Ruth hummed at the back table.

I laid a fresh piece of lace over a block and made one loose blue comma beside the temple. The rest of the thread lay quiet across my palm.

The doorbell gave a soft note, and Jun stepped into the front room, right on time.