Tats

by Layce Gardner

  He shrugs one shoulder. “Wherever we want.”

  “Lucky you,” I joke. “She’s got nice tits.”

  “Don’t talk about your mother that way,” he scolds.

  “Whoops,” I laugh. “Yeah, that’s going to take some getting used to.”

  “But you’re right.” He grins at me. “They are nice.”

  We laugh. And then I ask him the most serious question yet, “You ready to be a grandpa?”

  His face lights up with the biggest grin I’ve ever seen. “Hell, yeah. I’m ready.”

  “Good,” I say. “That’s good.”

  Chopper pulls his truck up to his shop and parks near my Harley. I don’t have a home, nowhere really to go. So, I’m grateful he’s letting me stay here. And, I’m looking forward to keeping my hands busy with some work.

  Chopper and I get out of the truck. He shuts his door and leans up against it. I walk around to him. “We going in?”

  He looks up at the top of the building and I follow his eyes.

  “What the hell?” jumps out of my mouth.

  There’s a new sign running the length of the building. Big blue cursive letters spell out “Lee’s Bike Shop.”

  I squish my eyes shut and then open them again. Yep, it’s still there.

  “It’s all yours,” he says. “All of it. Tools and everything.”

  “You can’t do this,” I say, dumbfounded. “You can’t just hand your shop over to me like this.”

  “Oh, I’m not giving you anything,” he answers. “You bought it.”

  “I’m confused. I mean, I love it and all, but I didn’t buy anything. How could I buy it?”

  The answer to my question pulls up next to us in Hell Camino. It looks like Johnny Runningbear took pretty good care of her. Vivian jumps out and gives me a big, lingering hug. “What d’ya think? You like?”

  “You bought this? But you said you spent all the money.”

  She laughs. “Oh, my God, Lee, I wasn’t going to tell him I really had all that money stashed.”

  “Hot damn,” I say. “Hot damn.”

  “Wait’ll you see the house,” Vivian says.

  “What house?”

  “You all bought my house too,” Chopper says.

  “It’s so sweet, Lee, you’ll love it. Two bedrooms and a great big kitchen. It even has a white picket fence,” Vivian says.

  “Two bedrooms...” I say, disappointment coloring my voice.

  “Well, the baby has to have a room of its own.”

  I smile. A big wave engulfs me and I’m rolling in it and I start laughing. I guess laughter really is contagious because they join in and we’re all laughing.

  “Oh my God,” I sputter. “I think I just peed my pants a little.”

  Vivian leads me around by the hand and my boots make clomping noises behind the soft pads of her bare feet as she shows me our new house. She proudly points out all the decorating she’s been up to. New curtains and throw rugs in the living room with matching recliners and a TV that I personally think is way too big but I’m not about to complain.

  The kitchen has old oak cabinets and countertops that Vivian says she loves and wants to keep. There’s a new stainless steel fridge and matching dishwasher, though. And there’s even a laundry room with matching washer and dryer.

  Vivian pulls me into the back bedroom and proudly shows it off. She’s turned an old spare room into a beautiful baby’s room. Crib, dresser, books and toys and a rocking chair. Clouds and stars are painted on the ceiling and the wall facing the crib is a complete animal motif in bright colors.

  “You paint that?” I ask.

  “I did,” she says, proudly.

  Damn, I love this woman. Always full of surprises.

  She leads me into the main bedroom and there’s a nice king-size bed with an old-timey headboard and footboard. Vivian tells me she stripped it and refinished it herself. The sheets are new and they match the bedspread and the walls and even the curtains. Sitting on top of one of the nightstands is my huge stack of journals. I guess Vivian found them in my saddlebags.

  I pick up the top journal and flip through the pages. “You read it?” I ask.

  “Not yet,” she says.

  Her tits BZZZZ. I look at them, but she doesn’t move. BZZZZ again.

  “You going to answer that?” I ask.

  “It’s just another publisher,” she says.

  “Yeah, what’s up with that?”

  “You’re a hero,” she says. “The newspapers printed the story, then the news stations got hold of it, next thing you know you’re on CNN and now publishers and producers are coming out of the woodwork. They want to pay you to write the book and then turn the book into a movie.”

  “Are you shitting me?”

  “Hillary Swank’s been calling. She wants to play you in the movie.” Vivian smiles.

  “No shit? For real?” I gulp.

  “Okay, not really. The Hillary Swank part is a joke. But the other stuff’s real.”

  “You got me,” I laugh. I hand her the journal, the one that tells of our adventure, saying, “You can read it.”

  She accepts it from me and walks out of the room, already reading the first page.

  I plop down on the bed. I feel dizzy. Too much shit coming at me at once. I take in a big breath and look out the window. I watch the big orange ball head for the horizon, leaving streaks of purple and yellow in its wake. I’m mesmerized by the descent of the sun and I sit and watch it until darkness spreads its blanket over my face.

  I find Vivian in the kitchen sitting up on the countertop over by the sink, reading the journal. I lean up against the doorjamb on the other side of the room, stuff my hands in my pockets and just fill my eyes with her. She’s barefoot and wearing faded jeans and a peasant blouse with some bangley beads hanging from the hem. Her hair is loose and windblown and she’s the most gorgeous creature I’ve ever laid eyes on.

  She laughs out loud at something in the journal, then looks up at me. “Sonny and Cher? And you really thought I was a hooker?”

  I shrug and smile sheepishly.

  She puts on her serious face. “You know, you never asked me where I went. Where I was that whole time we were apart,” she says.

  I shrug again. “I thought you’d tell me if you wanted to. I thought maybe I’d be better off not knowing.”

  She smiles. “I bounced around a while, going nowhere, just hiding. Finally, I checked myself into rehab.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yeah...”

  “How do you feel now?” I ask.

  “Brand new,” she answers. The corners of her mouth twitch into a smile. She holds out her hand for me and I walk over to her. She pulls me close, wraps her arms around my waist and holds me tight. I run my fingers through her hair and press my cheek against the top of her head.

  She pulls away and her fingers undo the buttons of my shirt. She opens it wide and touches the tip of her finger lightly on my new scar.

  “Does it hurt?” she asks.

  “No.”

  She leans down and brushes her lips over the scar.

  “We need to talk,” she says, kissing my collarbone.

  Uh-oh.

  “Okay,” I say.

  She kisses my neck. “I’m not a dyke, okay?”

  “Obviously.”

  She rubs her hands around my bare waist and tucks her fingers inside the back of my jeans. “And I’m not a lesbian either.”

  “I never thought you were,” I say.

  “I just love you, okay? Just you.”

  “I love you, too Vivian.”

  She sucks my earlobe between her teeth, forcing a shiver down my spine.

  “Show me,” she breathes into my ear. “Show me how much you love me.”

  I grab her legs and wrap them tight around my waist. “With pleasure,” I say, kissing her on the lips.

  I pull back a tiny bit and whisper, “But I want you to know this is going to take a really long time.�
�

  She laughs. “How long?”

  “The rest of our lives.”

  “Okay,” she says, gripping my hips and pulling me in closer. “I can live with that.”

  I place both my hands on her cheeks and look deep into her blue eyes. I swear, I can see my own reflection. And for the first time ever in my life, I don’t mind what I’m seeing.

  Epilogue

  I lie back on the cold table and guide my bare feet into the metal stirrups. I tuck the green paper dress between my legs and press my knees together. Vivian stands beside the table looking down at me and smirking.

  “You’re going to have to spread your legs, you know,” Vivian scolds.

  “I know that. But I don’t have to do it right at this very second,” I say.

  I know I sound bitchy, but I can’t help it. This is something I’ve been dreading. It’s not enough that my body is rebelling against me, but now I have to go and show my junk to a complete stranger. My belly is huge and my boobs have grown to tit status and I’m tired and hungry all the damn time. And when I get hungry, I get mean. I’ve been mean for the past month.

  “She’s a woman,” Vivian soothes. “I made sure to get you a woman gyno. That way you’ll be more comfortable when she sticks her fingers up your hoo-ha. You know?”

  “Gawd, Viv, can you just not call it my hoo-ha?”

  “I’m practicing not saying dirty words. I’m trying out substitute words. And a simple thank you for finding you a woman hoo-ha doctor would be nice,” Vivian says and smiles.

  “Thank you, Vivian, my dearest, who’s always thinking of me. How can I ever repay such kindness and consideration?”

  “No need to be sarcastic.”

  “You wanna trade me places?” I ask.

  “Darlin’, you know I only spread my legs for you.”

  I laugh. I can’t help it. “Damn you, Vivian,” I say. “You don’t even let me get a good bitch on without making me laugh.”

  She lays her palm on my big belly. “I think it’s a girl. Don’t you?”

  I shrug. “I think so. I hope so. I wouldn’t mind a boy. It’s when he turns into a man that worries me.”

  The door opens and the doctor walks in all smiles. She has long black hair loosely tied back in a knot and she has beautiful dark, almond-shaped eyes.

  Vivian takes one look at gorgeous doctor lady and flashes her eyes back to me. Vivian reads my mind and doesn’t like what’s written there.

  I shrug and whisper, “You picked her. Not me.”

  Vivian leans down to my ear and orders firmly, “You are not allowed to enjoy this. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I smile. But I must be smiling too big, because Vivian squints at me. I know what that squint means so I wipe the smile all the way off my face.

  The doctor walks up to my side and smiles at me. “Hello, Ms. Hammond,” she says. “I’m Dr. Drywater. But you can call me Gloria, if you don’t mind that I call you Lee Anne.”

  “Lee,” I answer her. “Call me Lee.”

  She smiles, showing perfect white teeth and because Vivian is still squinting at me, I’m real careful not to smile back.

  “Okay, Lee,” Gloria says.

  “I’m Vivian,” Vivian interjects. “Is Drywater an Indian name?”

  “I’m Cherokee,” Gloria says, setting her clipboard aside.

  Vivian raises her eyebrows at me meaningfully. “She’s Indian, Lee. In. Di. An. As in feather. And cheese,” she wags her eyebrows up and down.

  “I heard her, Vivian,” I snap.

  “Lee has a thing for Indians,” Vivian explains. “And cheese.”

  Gloria gives her a perplexed smile and pulls a pair of plastic disposable gloves out of a box. She stretches the gloves, snapping them like a rubber band before she puts them on. She has really big hands.

  I gulp and look away.

  “Lee’s a little nervous, Gloria. She’s never had a girlie exam before,” Vivian explains like she’s my mother and I’m about five years old.

  Gloria drapes a thin white sheet over the lower half of my body and sits on a stool at my feet.

  “Really? You’ve never done this before?” Gloria asks.

  “Not with gloves,” I respond, then immediately grimace at my own feeble attempt at humor.

  Gloria actually laughs and puts her hands on both my knees. I stare at the ceiling while she guides my knees apart. She slips a couple of fingers inside me and I try my damndest to think about anything but. She pushes and prods and I am not enjoying it at all.

  Vivian says, “You know, Gloria, you and Lee have a lot in common. You work with girlie parts all day and Lee’s a lesbian. You two share the same interests.”

  “Vivian!” I shout.

  Gloria laughs out loud. “Good one.”

  I scold harshly, “What’ve I told you about just outing me like that?”

  Vivian frowns at me. “You also told me lesbians don’t go down the first time, but I know for a fact you’ve broken that rule.”

  I think I hear Gloria chuckle under the sheet.

  “You can leave the room any time now,” I say.

  Vivian ignores me. “So, Gloria, Lee and I were just discussing, if the baby’s a girl, what word we should use for her girlie parts. What do you think?”

  “Hoo-ha’s always a popular one,” Gloria answers.

  “Told you so,” Vivian says to me.

  “Okay, okay, hoo-ha then. I’m outnumbered.”

  Gloria slides that metal torture-looking device inside me and I gasp out loud. “Whoa...cold,” I say.

  “Karma, Lee. That’s called karma,” Vivian chuckles.

  I start to get a little concerned with what Gloria’s doing under the sheet, but she’s all smiles as she cranks the thing open and talks to me, “So, tell me about yourself, Lee. What’re your interests?”

  “Interests?” I ask. It’s really hard to concentrate right now.

  “Small talk, Lee,” Vivian says. “She’s trying to distract you.”

  “Oh. I guess...” I think hard. “I like motorcycles.”

  Vivian interjects, “And tits. She loves tits. If you really want to distract her just whip out a tit.”

  “For chrissakes, Viv...”

  “It’s true.” Vivian shrugs.

  “Well, that’ll cost more,” Gloria jokes. Vivian and I both laugh. “So, you have a motorcycle?” Gloria asks me.

  “Yeah,” I answer. “And I have a shop. I fix motorcycles. Repair them, you know, and rebuild them and stuff.”

  “She’s very good with her hands,” Vivian says, then adds under her breath to Gloria, “really good.”

  I close my eyes and wish I could just disappear.

  To her credit, Gloria looks more entertained than embarrassed. “What kind of bike do you have?” she asks.

  Vivian leans a little to her left and looks at whatever Gloria’s busy with under the sheet. “Looks like you’re pretty good with your hands too,” she says.

  I hide my face in my hands and grumble, “Can you please make her leave the room?”

  Gloria laughs. “She’s not bothering me.”

  “Well, she’s bothering me.”

  “What kind of bike?” Gloria asks.

  “Harley. A Street Glide.” I feel a big wave of relief as she uncranks that metal thing and takes it out of me.

  Gloria looks at Vivian and asks, “Are you her partner?”

  “Yeah,” Vivian says, all smiles. “She fell in love with me at first sight and we’ve been together ever since.”

  Gloria laughs lightly. “I meant are you her birthing partner. Will you be there for the birth?”

  I say, “Vivian thinks she’s the father and I haven’t told her any differently.”

  Vivian playfully slaps me on the arm and Gloria laughs.

  “Now,” Gloria says to me, “let’s talk about you and your baby.”

  “Okay,” I say tentatively. “Is something wrong?”

  “Everything�
��s perfect,” she says. “I think you’re progressing beautifully. I’ll make you a list of vitamins I’d like for you to take and when you leave, ask the receptionist for an ultrasound appointment. And we’ll have a look at your baby. You can get dressed now.” She smiles and heads for the door.

  She turns back to us. “It was good to meet you both. Lee, I’ll see you again soon. You’re going to make a great mother. Sorry,” she corrects. “You’re both going to make great mothers.”

  After Gloria leaves, Vivian turns back to me, smiling. “We are, you know. We’re going to be fuckin’ great mothers.”

  I close my eyes and shake my head. “Your little cussing problem still needs some work.”

  “It’s all under control,” Vivian says. “I’ve got a good year before the baby starts talking. I’m sure I can find all kinds of new words by then.”

  I sit up and grin slyly. “Wanna go home and play doctor?”

  “You’re so bad. You’re a dirty, dirty girl,” Vivian mock scolds, then adds brightly, “Sure. But I get to wear the paper dress this time.”

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