Crashing Back Down

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Crashing Back Down Page 16

by Kristen Hope Mazzola


  Before starting the engine, I looked up into Walker’s warm stare and melted. “Walker, I’d do anything for you. Just like you would for me. Now let’s go get a needle driven into that leg of yours.”

  It was so surprising how quiet and smooth my car was compared to Randy’s old truck. I knew the main reason I drove it was for comfort and memories, but driving the Mercedes again reminded me why I had fallen in love with it during my test drive. It took turns perfectly, had an upgraded sound system with satellite radio, turn by turn navigation, seat cooling and heating, all leather, power and wood grain; she was completely decked out.

  Once the chime over the door dinged making our entrance known to the empty tattoo shop, my heart started to race. Even though I was not the one about to get a new piece of work, I still felt anxious. Memories of my recent endeavor sent chills down my spine while I rubbed my hipbone. My tattoo had healed wonderfully and it just felt like skin again, but I didn’t think I would ever be able to forget just how it felt to get my bird inked into my skin.

  With a big, beaming grin, Jeff came out to greet Walker and me in the lobby. “Hey guys, come on back. I just finished drawing out the new stencil of your compass. It’s going to be fucking sick, man.”

  Walker walked over and half-hugged Jeff. “Yeah, for sure! I’m stoked. Let’s go check it out.” Walker’s arm wrapped around my shoulders and he brushed his lips against my forehead before starting to head back into the tattooing section of the shop.

  Jeff’s station was all prepped and ready to go for Walker. I chuckled a little when Jeff pulled out the razor and started to shave Walker’s lower leg.

  Walker shot me a playful smirk. “What’s so funny, punk?”

  I crossed my arms over my chest, taking my seat a few feet away from the table Walker was lounging on like he was at a spa instead of a tattoo shop. “Oh, nothing. I just think it’s funny to see my boyfriend’s leg getting shaved by another dude, that’s all.” I smiled back at him with a cocky grin until I looked at Jeff’s awed expression as he stared at me then Walker.

  I threw my hand over my gaping mouth at my casual title drop. I had never used that term to refer to Walker before, and the realization of how comfortably it rolled off my tongue took me aback.

  Quickly, Jeff’s expression turned excited and beamed up at Walker. “This tattoo makes more sense now. Congrats guys, I’m happy for you!”

  His words were sincere, but I didn’t understand what he meant by the tattoo making more sense. I hadn’t seen the sketch yet, and assumed Walker was still getting the compass as he had planned months back.

  I jumped up once the stencil was in place to see what was going on for myself. Already on Walker’s leg was a tattoo of a red fish on a line, and a boat with a fisherman who had caught it. Just like planned, there was a compass ready to join in the collage and I couldn’t understand what Walker’s new idea was, or what Jeff meant by his comment. But, instead of getting to the bottom of it, I decided to approve of it and see for myself when it was finished.

  Walker clapped Jeff on the shoulder, excitedly checking out the outline of the image that would soon be on his body forever. “Jeff, that’s perfect! Let’s do this!”

  Walker’s body relaxed back onto the table and found a comfortable position. When he gave Jeff a swift head nod, the buzzing sounded and the gun went to work. The entire time, Walker stared at me with loving eyes, talking to Jeff and me about nothing too important. Soft jazz music played in the background, and I clung to Walker’s hand. It flexed every time Jeff passed over his bone or got close to the tender sections of his ankle.

  Stopping to wipe the sweat from his brow and stretch out his back, Jeff looked down at us. “Walker, you wanna get this color in here, or call it a night?”

  Walker’s eyes shot me a questioning look and I shrugged. “If you want to finish it tonight, I don’t mind.” I didn’t have anywhere to be and it was only eleven.

  Walker nodded at me. “Yeah, let’s get this sucker finished.”

  Taking his seat, Jeff smiled and got back to work without another word, concentrating on color combinations and making sure the water and compass blended in seamlessly to the boat and fish. I glanced over a few times to see the masterpiece, starting to become amazing. “Babe, it’s awesome!” I squealed.

  Curiosity took over and I had to ask Jeff. “Where is everyone? I’ve never seen the shop empty before.” It was odd to me that we were the only ones in the shop that night; every station empty, not even the burly owner was there.

  “Well, I actually bought the shop last week and am going to keep the shop closed on Sundays.” Jeff seemed so stoked about his newfound status as owner-artist-operator, and I could not have been more thrilled for him.

  “That's wonderful! You’ve wanted to open your own shop since I can remember.

  Congratulations!” Walker smiled at my enthusiasm, flinching a little when the white started to go in for the finishing touches.

  Jeff stopped for a second to shake out his hand. “Yeah, I’m going to use Sundays to tattoo my friends and shit, and give the guys a night off. They bust their balls all week, and if they’re not careful they’re gonna get fucking arthritis and ruin their careers. No amount of money is worth me losing one of my best guys from overworking them.”

  I nodded my head in approval of Jeff’s decision. The notion of him truly caring for his staff was comforting, and I was glad someone that kind-hearted had finally caught a break and started to follow his dream.

  Next thing we knew, Walker’s ink session was finished and he was checking out his new piece in the mirror. “Jeff, it’s perfect! Mags, come take a look.”

  I bent down to get a good look at his freshly tattooed shin. The water was deep blue and rolling under the boat, splashing up over the fish breaching, and then crashing into rocks where a compass lay on its side.

  Then, I saw it, a mistake and I gasped. “Wait, Jeff!” He looked down where I was pointing, obviously not seeing what I was. “Jeff! That’s an M! Not an N for north!”

  He looked down at me like I was a crazy person, and then shot a swift look over to

  Walker before speaking. “Yeah, that’s what he wanted, and now that you guys are together, it makes sense why he changed the design of it.”

  I gaped at Walker, hoping he would say something, but he just stood there, staring at the floor, digging his hands in his packets. “Well, Walker, explain this right fucking now or I am leaving your ass here and you can Goddamn walk home!”

  I was furious and confused and panicking. Walker jumped up off the table, and wrapped his arms around me, drawling charmingly in my ear, “Please, don’t be mad babe. But, Mags …” his eyes were pleading as he pulled away just enough so I could look at him, still scathing mad. “You’re my true north. No compass would point me in any other direction but to you.”

  My mouth fell open and my throat went dry as tears started to well up in my eyes. I did not know how I felt about the tattoo, but I knew Walker’s words dripped with sincerity and that they were some of the most beautiful words I had ever heard. I pulled his shirt, making him get as close to me as possible and then hugged him tightly.

  Walker kissed my hair, breathing softly. “I’m sorry, Mags. I should have told you.”

  I nodded into his chest. “Yeah, you should have told me. That was shocking. But you’re cute. You know that?”

  From the background, I heard Jeff’s nervous chuckle. “Uh, should I leave you two alone or something?”

  I broke from Walker’s arms and wiped my face off with both hands. “No, Jeff, it’s all good. I’m going to get this big oaf home.”

  I winked at Jeff and his nerves melted into a warm smile. “Alright, catch you guys later. Mags, when you’re ready for the next tat, remember Sundays are always open for ya.”

  I hugged Jeff goodbye. “Thank you, but I think it is going to be a while before I gather up enough courage to endure that again.”

  “Oh come on, you sat like a pro
! You’ll want another, sooner than you want to admit.”

  All I could do was smile shyly and give him a quick wave before I was out the door. Damp, sticky warm engulfed my body as I stepped out into a light rainstorm. I hated the smell of hot, wet asphalt, and it made me scrunch my nose while I unlocked the car and slid into the driver’s seat. Walker got in right after me and nervously stared at his feet, rubbing his palms together, “So are you really not mad, or were you just putting on a show in front of Jeff?”

  I could hear the distress in Walker’s voice and I sat and thought about his question for a moment. I wanted to be furious that he did something like that and didn’t even warn me first, but the meaning behind it touched me so deeply, there was no way I could ever be mad at him for it. Finally, I broke the awkward silence, shifting to look directly into Walker’s hopeful eyes. “No, I’m not mad. Next time you are going to mark your body with something that involves me, let’s at least talk about it first so I don’t get blindsided.”

  Walker took my hand in his and promised, and that was all I needed to hear. I melted into the thought of how much Walker really cared about me, and my heart felt lighter than it had in months, and heavier all at the same time.

  Once we were home, Walker and I drank a beer, and cuddled up together in bed after I rubbed his new tattoo with ice and washed it for him just like he had done for me not too long before. I fell asleep cradled in his arms, content and happy with our situation and how well everything was finally starting to fall together.

  The next few days droned on. Since my office was not going to be ready before Wednesday, I decided to start working Monday morning, bright and early, from home. I could have waited, but I was already going to be behind enough as it was, and I knew I needed to step up. My boss and co-workers had been so understanding with me in the wake of Randy’s death and never pushed me to go the extra mile, or even show up some days, always picking up my slack. I felt like they deserved for me to be a team player again.

  I think some of it came from needing to get back into the groove of normalcy in some way. Walker’s new tattoo really started to drive the point home that my life was changing, mostly in wonderful ways, but I was never good with change and work was always my constant. I forced myself to get out of bed and dressed for a normal workday, leaving Walker fast asleep as I went to take a shower.

  I made a pot of coffee, grabbed my work laptop and started to sift through all of my emails. And that was where I pretty much stayed for the better part of two days. There was a mountain of messages to sift through, tons of calls to make, and too many asses to kiss for me not to feel sick by the end of the day on Tuesday. I had started to look forward to my sessions with Dr. Davenport more and more as they went on.

  I was proud of the progress I had been making. Even though I gave most of the credit to myself, I knew the jolt to kick-start all of my newfound confidence, happiness, and ability to cope with my loss, was all in the hands of my pint-sized shrink.

  I sat in the freezing waiting room, damning myself for not bringing a jacket with me; finally entertained by a light-hearted romance novel I had shoved in my bag right before I left Liz and Jim’s. It was one that Liz had just finished reading with her new book club and I figured I would give it a try. I was taken off guard that a group of retired women were reading a smutty, new adult novel about a girl who moved half way across the country to run away from her past that ended up following her anyway, but I guess you could never get too old for a great read.

  I was enthralled by the main character’s description of her new love interest’s handsome build when an obnoxiously loud bang came from within Candice’s office. I shrilled and bolted for the door while the girl in the reception window cried out to me to not go in. I heard her talking to a dispatch operator, saying there was a gunshot in their office and to send police right away.

  Once those words registered, I flung the door open without giving it a second thought. To my horror I had just opened the door onto one of the most gruesome sights I had ever had the misfortune of witnessing. Everything started to get foggy as a panic attack came on.

  The next thing I knew, I was sitting on the back of an ambulance with a paramedic telling me I was safe now, wrapping a blanket around my shivering, wet, sticky body. I looked down at my hands to find a horrific sight of dried blood and the scene all rushed back into my mind. The sight of Candice’s lifeless body slumped over in her chair right across from the spot where I always sat on the couch flooded my mind, and made my eyes sting and water. In the spot that I usually took, was the man with the sunken, sad eyes. He stood with a look of fear, hate and pain plastered on his pale face. All of the times I had seen him shuffle out of Candice’s office, I never thought of him as dangerous or deranged, just a sad-looking man with lifeless eyes.

  I was ripped away from my thoughts, by the repeated question, “Miss? May we ask you a few questions? I’m Officer Rogers.”

  I finally willed my eyes to focus and made eye contact with a short, plump officer gripping a pad and pen in his hands. He looked at me with sympathetic eyes that I knew all too well from the looks people gave to me once they found out I was a widow. I swallowed while my voice shook. “Y-yes, of c-course. I-I’m Margret McManus. I-I am … uh … was Dr. Davenport’s patient.”

  He put a comforting hand on my shoulder and continued, “I need to know everything you saw, Ms. McManus. Whatever you can remember will be helpful.”

  I nodded, tears streaming from my eyes. “There was a terribly loud sound that burst through the entire office, and the receptionist said it was a gunshot, so I reacted. Right after I opened the door and the evil, hollow man saw me in the doorway, he briefly aimed his pistol at me, then shot himself in the head and fell onto the couch. I ran to my doctor’s body and wrapped her up in my arms, rocking her until the police arrived, and they pulled me out of the office while I tried to hang onto her, begging them to help her.”

  All of the words spilled from my lips without me realizing it. Until that moment, I didn’t even know what had happened. I ended my story with choking sobs and I apologized to Officer Rogers for my hysterics.

  Grabbing a hankie out of his pocket, handing it to me. “Thank you, Ms. McManus. Your account is going to be very helpful. Please don’t apologize. What you saw was very traumatic. Is there someone I can call to come and get you?”

  I nodded and without realizing it, my mother’s number rattled off my tongue. I was in shock, she was the last person I would have consciously considered as my emergency contact, but there was a little part of me that just wanted the comfort of my mother.

  It didn’t take more than ten minutes for my mom’s little silver Prius to come zooming into the crime scene like a bat out of hell. She flew out of the driver’s seat and rushed to my side where one of the paramedics was helping me wash some of the blood off my arms and hands. My mother shrieked when she saw me. “Oh my baby! Are you hurt?!” She shrieked again and the paramedic explained that it wasn’t my blood while my tongue was tied into a million knots.

  I couldn’t make eye contact with her still, but I mustered up a fake smile. “Thanks for coming so quickly Mom, I really want to get home and take a shower. I need to wash this appalling sight off of me and out of my mind.”

  Surprisingly, my mom did not play twenty questions with me, or even protest in leaving the paramedic’s care without making them do a strip search on me for a just-in-case exam for something they might have missed. All she did was wrap her arm around my waist, hold me, whispering under her breath, “Thank God you’re alright, sweetheart.”

  We drove to my house in silence, while I stared blankly out the window. A sigh of relief came over me when I saw Walker’s truck was not in the driveway. I had not gotten around to telling my mom about how my relationship with him had evolved, and I was not prepared to hear the “I knew it. I told you that you two were meant to be together” speech.

  We walked into the house, and my mom made a beeline for the kitch
en, while I made my way to the stairs to escape into my shower for as long as possible. Once I was halfway up the stairs, my mom called up to me, “Do you want me to stay honey? I could make you and Walker something for dinner.”

  It took a second, but it clicked. I turned quickly to face my mom, arms crossed, glaring at her, half-mad, half confused. “What do you mean, me and Walker?”

  She looked a little nervous for a second, then fessed up. “I know you two are living together.” Rage started to boil, threatening to spill over.

  I fought it back and calmly let only one word escape, knowing if I attempted more, I would lash out hastily and never get the answer. “How?”

  “Umm …” I glared at her ready to start screaming when she paused, but I think she saw it first and make the right move to not piss me off at the moment.“I am in the book club with Liz. She assumed I knew about the arrangement, and I never corrected her.”

  Before I could freak out completely, the front door crashed open with a panicked Walker standing in the doorway. “Oh Mags, I was so fucking worried, I saw there was a shooting on the news at your doctor’s office, when I got there they didn’t know who you were.” His chest heaved from his deep breaths as he tried to calm himself down. “I was so fucking scared you were hurt.” And with that he was on the stairs next me, hugging my body so tightly into his, making it difficult for me to breathe. My world stopped and my heart started to calm down for the first time since the gunshot pierced my ears.

  He looked down at me, pressing his cheek against mine. I smiled pushing him away gently. “I’m alright, just a little shaken up.”

  My mom gave a fake cough to remind us that she was there, still standing at the bottom of the stairs, staring at us. Walker quickly whipped around. “Thanks for bringing Mags home, Elena.”

  My mom smiled warmly, with an eyebrow raise that tempted my temper to flare again. “Not a problem, Walker. Well, my work here is done. Margret, I will call you in the morning to check on you.”

 

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