The Extra Innings

The cable guy had been gone three hours when Margot found herself sitting on the edge of the bathtub, scissors in hand, staring at her reflection in the foggy mirror. Forty-two years old and cutting her own hair because she couldn't bear another appointment with Carla, who always asked too many questions about David.

The television in the bedroom droned on—a baseball game, extra innings, the announcer's voice rising and falling like waves. David had loved baseball. Had taught her the intricate ballet of it, the way a pitcher's wind-up could hold an entire stadium hostage. Now the sound made her chest ache.

From the bedroom, the cable box sputtered, the screen flickering through static before settling on a shopping channel. The new cable package—cheaper, basic—had been her first act of sovereignty. David's sports packages, his premium everything, gone like him.

A chunk of hair fell into the sink, dark and heavy. She kept cutting.

Her phone buzzed on the counter. David's sister, again. Something about his things, the storage unit, finalizing everything. Margot let it ring. She was tired of finalizing. Tired of the paperwork that came with death, the way bureaucracy demanded she fold their life into neat folders while her insides felt like pulled cotton.

The baseball announcer shouted something about a home run. Margot laughed—a dry, sharp sound. David would have missed it anyway. He'd been dead before the seventh inning stretch.

She looked at her reflection, jagged hair framing a face she barely recognized. The woman in the mirror had survived. Had cancelled the cable and learned to sleep alone and now cut her own damn hair in a bathroom that felt too big for one person.

Outside, summer pressed against the window. Somewhere, a baseball game was ending. A team was celebrating. Someone was going home to someone who loved them.

Margot put down the scissors, ran her fingers through her uneven hair, and for the first time in three months, didn't hate what she saw. The extra innings were over. She could finally start playing.