by M. Sembera
“This isn’t something to play with. It’s serious. My mom’s first husband messed with the legacy and ended up dead.”
“That’s not what killed him,” I argued, rolling my eyes at how much he was exaggerating.
“He broke the rules and he ain’t alive. Just sayin’.”
Clearly, I needed to come at this from a different direction.
Taking a deep breath, I gave it one last shot.
“I know what I’m asking for. I know how serious this is.”
Scowling at me, he suggested, “Then why not ask Aunt Penny for it.”
“Man, you know she won’t understand.”
Palmer started to say something, when we heard Aunt Penny scold, “Well, that’s rude.”
Both of us turned around to find her standing there with her hand on her hip.
I cringed slightly. “Sorry, Aunt Penny.”
Pursing her lips at me she fussed, “I ought to say no just on principle alone.”
Before I could say anything else, she held up her hand and silenced me.
“But I won’t.”
I may have been in shock as I questioned, “You’ll do it?”
With a sweet smile, she nodded.
Normally, the only people allowed in the marking room were the marker and the one receiving the mark. However, because Palmer was apprenticing to become the next marker and Aunt Penny said she was proud of him for taking it seriously, he was allowed to sit in.
“You need to freehand the mark so it can be recorded?” As Palmer nodded, she directed, “Open the second left hand drawer and grab a paper square.”
“Will my name be in there as your drawer?” he questioned with a hopeful expression.
Aunt Penny smiled at him, assuring, “Yes, it will. You may also view our legacy, but you know the rules.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Their sincerity over a binder of tattoos caused me to ask, “What rules?”
Aunt Penny swiped her long red hair over her shoulder before fastening it into a long braid as she shared, “I’m not sure if it was always a rule but the majority of marks are given right before a proposal and I imagine no one wanted to ruin the surprise. However, over the years, a few have been given as a personal declaration of love that wasn’t meant to be seen.”
Palmer chimed in, adding, “Every mark is sacred, and every man that’s had his heart marked becomes part of the legacy. That’s why preservin’ the tradition is important. This is our family’s history right here.”
I held a sense of pride as I appreciated, “Thank you, Aunt Penny.”
“I’m honored to be the one to give you your mark,” she replied with a smile. “And by the way, if Charlotte gets mad, I’m telling her Palmer did it.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
My bags were packed and in the trunk of my car as I backed out of my parents’ driveway. For the first time since I’d been back, I missed my apartment. I was ready to go back to work at Belton’s where the guys at the loading dock called me Gus. I looked forward to the familiarity of being back on campus where my only focus was lectures and term papers. Wren was right, I was just a visitor here. This wasn’t home anymore and it hadn’t been for a while. I just wished I was leaving with a clear conscience. I never minded missing my family because it meant they were always here. Tansy on the other hand, I missed because without her I always felt like something was missing and I still do. Even with the fresh ink on my chest, I felt no better off than when she left me at fifteen. I was leaving her this time and it was just as painful. It was a hard fact to swallow that I now understood what she went through all the times she left me. I didn’t want to miss her anymore, either.
Thirty miles into the almost four-hundred mile drive I had ahead of me, I flipped through radio stations trying to find something better than what was playing. Giving up, I switched to Bluetooth so I could pull up my playlist.
As soon as my cell connected I heard, “You have six missed calls and four voicemail messages,” through the speakers.
I must have driven through a dead spot that prevented the calls from coming through. I scrolled over to listen to them and all four were from Tansy.
Tansy 9:55am
‘First, hey. Um… I wanted to catch you before you left but I guess I didn’t or you’re just not answering. I called your mom though and she said you left so…
Completely caught off guard, and confused, I missed my turn. Moving to the far left lane in order to backtrack under the overpass, I played the next one.
Tansy 10:02am
‘Sorry, I think I hit something. I don’t know what to say. Yes, I do. Damnit, hang on. What the? Alright, I know what I said but that’s not what I meant. What I mean is… Really?’
While I was trying to figure out what she was talking about I should have made another left after the overpass. Instead, I continued south and played the next one.
Tansy 10:07am
‘Son of a bitch!’
All I could do was laugh as I played the next one.
Tansy 10:12am
‘Okay, before I throw this stupid phone against the wall, I love you and I’d rather miss you than not have you at all. See you at Christmas!’
Gripping the steering wheel, I shook my head at her message. See you at Christmas? Was she serious? Who waits for someone to leave before finally saying I love you then ends with ‘see you at Christmas’?
Honestly, I wanted to yell at her for putting my heart through the ringer, so I gave myself some time to think before calling her back.
“Did you get my voicemails?” Tansy asked in lieu of a hello.
“Yea.”
Her voice sounded unsure as she questioned, “All of them?”
“Yea.”
There was a long pause before she asked, “So?”
“So, I’m a son of a bitch?”
There was a bit of relief in her voice as she tried to explain, “Oh, not you. It was my phone. It kept cutting off.”
“Okay, is that it?”
Her voice shook as she replied, “What? I thought you…”
I may have been taking messing with her a bit far but in all fairness she owed me an explanation.
“Did you have something to say or not?”
Waiting for her to answer, I pulled over and put my car in park.
It took a minute of me sitting there listening to her breath before she answered.
“I promise I never would have left you if I thought for a second it would make you feel the way I’m feeling right now.”
I couldn’t help feeling bad for messing with her now because that’s not at all what I expected her to say.
“Tansy…”
“No, just listen okay. I never wanted to get over you.”
“Tansy!”
“I thought maybe, you could get over me, but I don’t want that. I want you, I want us and if that means...”
That was all I could stand to hear, she was breaking my heart and mending it all at the same time.
“Damn it, Tansy, come outside.”
By the time I got out of the driver’s seat and closed the door Tansy was standing right in front of me.
“What are you doing here? You left.”
Refusing to stop myself from touching her this time, I slid my hands against the sides of her face and reminded, “I told you, I’ll always come back for you.”
I thought about getting down on one knee, but as her lips parted into a smile, I kissed her instead.
Forcing myself to pull away, I needed more time with her but also I needed to get back on the road.
Her fingers were still knotted in the back of my hair as I asked, “You said you’d stay here unless you got a better offer, right?”
Her eyes questioned mine as she replied, “Right.”
“Are you still packed?”
A light scowl of confusion formed between her hazel eyes.
“Because I don’t want to miss you anymore.”
Epilogu
e
Three weeks later…
The fall semester was in full swing consuming every weekday morning while Belton’s took up the majority of my evenings. I was beat, stressed with new courses and desperately missing the woman I loved. Tansy and I were destined to miss each other I guess. It seems as though no matter how hard we tried it was unavoidable.
Half passed eleven-thirty in the evening after working a double shift, I scarfed down a few cold pieces of pizza before taking a shower. My muscles ached even after I stepped out of the hot shower. It was surprising how out of shape I was from only taking the summer off. It would be worth it though when winter break rolled around. I had my eye on a ring that happened to be the perfect present for a Christmas proposal.
Quickly toweling off, I headed to my room. I’d been thinking about this moment all day. Finally in bed, I stretched my arms and legs out before rolling onto my side.
“I missed you,” I whispered as Tansy snaked her arms around my neck and pulled herself against me.
Wrapping my hands around her bare waist, I smiled as she complained, “I tried to stay awake but those kids at the daycare are little energy sucking monsters.”
Kissing down her neck, I suggested, “You should quit.”
“Why? I love it there.”
I shook my head at her and started to laugh.
“You really are beautiful.”
I could feel the smile on her face as she nipped at my jaw.
“You’re just saying that because I’m naked.”
“I do love you naked.”
Weaving her fingers into the back of my hair she brushed her lips against mine.
“And what happens when I put my clothes back on?”
“I’ll love you even more.”
Not that long ago, I couldn’t decide if being with her was like heaven or hell. After living with her, I’m positive it’s both. She’s a torturous endeavor that my heart will never recover from. I’d never want it to. The heartaches we suffered crossing paths are symbolized by her memento and my mark. My arrow was once guided by indecision and hers with fear and doubt but at the center of the struggle between right verses wrong we came together, me and her. First and Tansy. Us.
Palmer
Palmer Hagan Caffrey
Theme Song
Trouble
Cage The Elephant
Let's get the formalities out of the way. No idea where mom and dad came up with the name Palmer. I inherited my middle name from my dad and hell yea I'm a Caffrey through and through, even got the red hair to prove it. I work at my mom and Aunt Penny's tattoo shop, Legacy Ink, have since I was fifteen. I started off sweeping the floor and setting up for my aunt. Now, I have my own chair, steady clients and plans on becoming the next family marker once my apprenticeship with Aunt Penny is done.
I'm a pretty honest mix of my parents. At least that's the impression I got growing up. My dad swore I was just like mom and my mom swore I was just like dad. Unless they were both pissed at me, then I'm just like my Uncle Auggie. Which isn't even close to an insult, if ya ask me. He owns The Dog House, our family's bar, has a smokin' hot wife and doesn't take any shit from anyone. A guy could do worse, know what I mean. Like I was sayin', I'm a lot like both my parents. Mom inspired my love of tattoos. She has full sleeves on both arms and they're beautiful. Dad started teaching me how to play guitar as soon as I was old enough to wrap my hand around the neck. He was in a band for a while with my uncle Ailin and Joie's dad, Brooks. I'm sort of following in his footsteps with that. It's not a forever thing though. When I was a teenager it was a good way to hook up with girls but the older I get the less that kind of thing appeals to me. Don't get me wrong, I still get an itch that needs to be scratched, and there's always a sweetheart in the crowd willing to help me out after a show, sometimes in between sets. But lately, I can't stop thinking about my drummer.
I've known her my whole life. Okay, not really, I was three when she was born but who remembers being that young? Joie's my little sister, at least that's how I've treated her. She needed someone to look out for her. Her family's a mess. It doesn't seem to bother her but it bothers me. Just like when her first boyfriend broke up with her because she wouldn't put out. Joie didn't care but I did. That punk still runs the other way when he sees me. Most of my high school career was spent keeping her away from knuckle heads who only wanted to have fun with her, boys that thought she was hot because she was good on drums and pretty much any guy that looked her way. She was too good for them, still is. She's too good for me, I know this. Here's the thing, I want her. I can't stop thinking about her. And what makes it worse is I know she wants me. It would be easy. I don't exactly have a history of being the good boyfriend or any kind of boyfriend. I'm not into that. Easy come, easy go. But this is Joie and that makes things complicated. I don't do complicated. Easy is my thing, always has been. There's only so much a man can take, though. Each day I can feel self-control slipping. One more accidental touch and I'm gonna break. One more goofy smile and I won't be able to hold back any more. One more drum beat and I'm done.
2nd Generation MH
next in the stand alone series
Palmer
Coming Spring-ish 2017
Roe
Coming Summer-ish 2017
Wren
Coming Fall-ish 2017
Marked Heart Series
Enduring Everything
Time doesn't always heal old wounds. Often time makes them worse. Especially when you push those wounds to the back of your mind and focus on the life you want to lead. Then the day comes when you finally have everything. It is then, you realize that nothing ever goes away.
Charlotte
The true measure of a person's worth lies not within what they can offer you but what you have to offer them. No matter how desirable, are they worth your time, patience, forgiveness, loyalty, friendship, love, respect, understanding, compassion, trust? If not, they are worth more than you have to offer. They deserve for you to let them go.
One Penny
Foolish is the heart that leaves itself open to falling in love. Reckless is the person who steps away from tradition to claim a life of their own. Irreplaceable is the moment one takes the risk.
C&A Novella
(included in One Penny)
He was all the things she really wanted and never bothered to look for in a man. He was also the most stubborn jackass she had ever met.
She was an infuriating pain in the ass, and he'd be damned straight to hell if he had to spend even one day without her by his side.
Marked Heart
A marked heart, longing for the one is nothing more than a restless heart, burdened by a lie.
Marked Heart Series
Complete Box Set
Four full-length stand alone novels and one novella interconnecting four couples that will make you fall in love, laugh, cry, swoon, and believe in second chances. +bonus C&A Serial
About the Author
M. Sembera was born in Baton Rouge, Louisiana and now lives in Brazoria, Texas with her husband, three kids, three dogs and two cats. After writing her first short story when she was in high school, M. instantly fell in love with writing. However, life sometimes gets in the way of aspirations and it wasn't until years later, when her life calmed down, M. was able to start writing again.
'For me, each new book I write or character I create feels like the first time and I find myself falling in love with writing all over again'
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@m_semebra
AuthorM.Sembera
www.BrokenBirdMedia.com
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