Oh yes, I know all about the world of crushed dreams never realized because of a life cut too short. It is the saddest part for those of us left behind. We have to live with the knowledge of what should’ve been, could’ve been — what would have been possible if we could only go back and change that one split second in time.
Impulsively, I make Allie an offer, “Allie, you know at Ink’d Deep, we do memorial tattoos for free for service members and fallen police officers. Since your boyfriend was killed in a terrorist attack, I would like to extend that offer to you. If you want, I can go with you to meet his family. I have had a little bit of experience being the one left behind.”
“Why?” Allie asks me bluntly.
“Why what?” I clarify. “Doing memorial tattoos is just our way to give back to the community, we’ve done this for a really long time. It just seems like the right thing to do.”
“No, I get that,” Allie answers. “Why are you willing to do all the rest of it? You don’t know me and the part of me that you know, you probably don’t like because my friend was a jerk and I wasn’t much better.”
“The more I’m around you, the more I like you. We have a lot in common. I’m a little blunt and rough around the edges. Lord knows that my friends should never be judged by the way I am around people; I’m practically like a social wild animal. The social zookeepers let me out, but I have to be completely monitored at all times for fear that I’m going to do something wildly inappropriate. My good friends are pretty used to it by now, but newcomers are often a little stunned. Don’t let that worry you though, because I can be really diplomatic and spot on when it counts. I have my own reasons for wanting you to have the healthiest relationship possible with your boyfriend’s family. If I can help with that, I’d be honored.”
“I’d really like that. Callum had other drawings laying around and I think his family should have them. I just don’t know how to start the conversation. I’m sure that they would love to have them. It makes me sad to keep them knowing that they would cherish the memories if they only knew that they existed.”
“It might be best to wait a little while for your tattoo, but when I do it, that drawing is going to be phenomenal. I can’t wait to get started on it.”
I turn to Ashley Nicole and ask, “What about you? Do you have an idea?”
Ashley blushes all the way to the roots of her hair before she tentatively admits, “I don’t even know if this is a good idea. It seems like everyone else is getting this tattoo these days, and I don’t want people to think I just got it because it’s trending on twitter.”
I shrug as I answer, “It’s your body and your tattoo. If you like a design, own it and make it yours. Put your own little twist on it and just ignore what everyone else thinks.”
“You make it sound so easy, I wish I had your courage,” Ashley confesses as she flips through the portfolio again.
“Don’t worry about it. It gets easier the older you get. It took me while to grow a thicker skin. Look at me: purple hair with tattoos and piercings everywhere. I get comments all the time. It seems everyone and their cousin’s dog has an opinion about what I look like and what it means. They don’t know anything about me, but they seem to know all about my life based on a little piece of metal in my face. Piercing and tattoos are more popular now, but I’ve had these for years and when I first got them, they were considered odd. My advice is to get what you want because it doesn’t matter what art I put on your body, somebody’s going to disagree with your decision.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Ashley agrees reluctantly.
“How about this,” I suggest, “I just did a huge back piece today and my shoulders are killing me. Why don’t you and Allie come back on another day when my arms don’t feel like spaghetti and she’s got this whole thing sorted with Callum’s family. Tell me about your design and I’ll come up with some preliminary sketches for you.”
“That’s a great idea,” Allie declares as she nods vigorously. “We could treat ourselves to our tattoos as a reward for surviving our first set of finals in college.”
“It will be if we actually survive,” remarks Ashley Nicole.
“I can’t help but notice you still haven’t told me your design,” I gently tease. “Is it a naked guy or something?”
Ashley turns bright red as she laughs nervously, “No, it’s not that complicated. It’s a really simple design actually, but it means a lot to me. It’s just a semicolon.”
Before I can fully absorb the impact of her announcement, Allie gasps and whispers, “I forgot that you knew Candace Jenkins.”
“She was my next-door neighbor when I was a kid,” Ashley explains tearfully. “They moved to another school district when her dad got a new job as the principal at the middle school. We kind of lost track after that. I didn’t mean to, but you know how it is... I heard she thought she didn’t have any friends. If only I had known—” she breaks off with a small sob. “We planned to be in each other’s weddings when we were little. We were going to be like ebony and ivory — two sides of the coin. Now, she’s just gone for no real reason. I saw her parents at the memorial service; they were so sad, it was hard to watch. Her little sister — oh my God! She may never be the same.”
I have to wipe away a tear before I answer quietly, my voice breaking, “No, I can promise you she will never be the same. Her life is forever changed.”
“Before Candace committed suicide, I have to be honest, I thought about it lots of times when my parents were getting a divorce. I thought that maybe the world would be a better place if I wasn’t here. After I saw what it did to Candy’s family and friends, I decided that I could never do that to the people I love.”
“I wish my brother would have made the same decision,” I admit as I wipe tears away.
“WHAT IN THE HELL IS she doing over there? She knows better than to start a tattoo and stop it in the middle. I thought she was ready to take over the business completely, but these days, I’m not so sure that she’s as dedicated to the business as she needs to be for me to be able to take a step back from Ink’d Deep,” Jett criticizes as he works on my rib cage and observes the interaction from across the shop. “Maybe she just doesn’t have the sense, this is a man’s world after all.”
The man is holding a sharp implement to a very tender part of my anatomy, so I don’t want to give away too much. He probably doesn’t need to know that I have more than a passing interest in Ink’d Deep’s beautiful young owner. Maybe it’s the long hair, my occupation or my current lack of permanent housing, but parental types like Jett are usually less than impressed by me. Street musicians are rarely who you wish for when you think of an appropriate suitor.
I stopped trying to justify who I am a really long time ago. I go where I’m wanted and if I’m not wanted, I leave. It’s pretty simple. If I’m honest with myself, it’s a little more complicated than that. Some weeks I do really well and can splurge a little and some weeks I eat a lot of rice and beans — or on some days, a whole lot of nothing. Lately though, I’ve been doing pretty well. I have a circuit of places that I’ve been playing that seem to like me a lot and tip pretty well. It’ll be interesting to see how that all changes after the beginning of the year when everyone’s vacation is over and life goes back to normal.
“For freak’s sake, now she’s crying over customers?” Jett mutters under his breath as he surreptitiously watches Jade. “What happened to my daughter who was hard as ice and never let anything bother her? I taught her to be tougher than that. Where’s her game face? Just a minute, Declan, I gotta go talk some sense into my daughter. For some reason, she’s decided to be a girly-girl. She wasn’t this emotional when she was five.”
For some reason, I feel oddly protective of Jade. I’ve been hanging out at Ink’d Deep for a few years. I like the vibe here. They play lots of retro music and the artwork is phenomenal. Jett Petros gave me my first tattoo here a few years back, but frankly, I prefer Jade’s style. She does ama
zing line work and shading. Her black and white tattoos have incredible depth. They look like they are going to leap off of your skin. I watch as Jade takes a few swigs of an energy drink. “Looks like she’s got it handled. If you talk to her now, you might just embarrass her,” I suggest.
“You got that right, Ailín. She’s as touchy as her mom when it comes to that crap. I don’t dare say a word that makes Diamond look weak.”
“I could see that. Your wife is one scary woman. I was at the library the other day, writing lyrics and I threw some paper away instead of recycling it and I thought Diamond was going to recycle me. If I hadn’t been ready to go on the road for a gig, I think she was planning to make me check out books on recycling. She takes her duties as a librarian seriously.”
“Don’t count on being off of her radar quite yet, she’s probably got you mentally tagged for community service for your infraction,” he warns with a crooked grin. “She just loves those kids in her reading program and she’ll do anything for them.”
Jett starts to wipe off my tattoo. “Why don’t you go check that in the mirror?”
As I move to stand up, I remember why I absolutely hate rib tattoos. I walk over to the mirror and angle myself so that I can see the work that Jett just did. It’s pretty remarkable. You’d never guess that I had freaky tribal stuff there before. He played off of the owl tattoo that Jade gave me earlier and perfectly scattered feathers across my torso to cover my earlier work. The feathers look haphazard and random; it doesn’t look like they are covering up anything at all. They are magnificent and the level of detail and craftsmanship is spectacular. “Oh wow! This is stellar. I’ve regretted this tattoo for nearly a decade and now it’s gone — I can’t thank you enough.”
Jade wanders over to me and examines the tattoo. “Declan, you should’ve said something, I could have added these for you — unless you weren’t happy with my work? By the way, great work, Dad. The placement of these feathers is genius. It’s a masterful cover job.”
Faster than I can say a word, Jett is all over Jade. “I was under the mistaken belief that you had three pieces scheduled for this afternoon. I see that you couldn’t close the sale on even one of those. What’s going on? Don’t you care about the future of the shop? We count on the revenue of the shop to pay the bills and the employees. We have to have customers that book tattoos. This can’t just be a place where we gossip about makeup and hair. I taught you better than that, Girl. Where is your business sense?”
“I’d really rather not sort out shop business here, but really, Dad? The Ink’d Deep that I know cares more about the customers than the bottom line. We take the time to do proper consults so that we don’t end up doing cover-up tattoos like you just had to do. We make sure that our clients have the right tattoos for the right reasons. Isn’t that what you always taught me? It’s the whole reason behind the name — that there’s always a deeper meaning behind a tattoo. That it’s always about more than just the ink. When did we forget that? The day that we decide that that’s not important is the day I put down my machine and walk away. I don’t care how much money I make at this; if it’s only about the money, I don’t want to do it anymore. In fact, some days I’m not sure I want to do it anyway.”
“How can you say that? You’ve been tattooing almost as long as you’ve been able to walk. You have so much talent!” Jett argues emphatically. “Why are you suddenly doing stupid crap? Has the fame gone to your head? You don’t stop a tattoo in the middle. You sure as hell don’t pay a customer to go to our competitors. We can’t afford to do that, and we can’t afford to lose walk-in business. If you’re gonna manage the business for me, you need to know this. What the hell were you thinking?
“Daddy, I can’t fight about this right now. I have an orchestra playing in my head. I guess you’re either going to trust my judgment on this one or not. Trust me, I had a good reason.”
Jett walks over and grabs his daughter and pulls her in close for a bear hug. “I’m sorry you’re hurting, Baby. You know we’re going to have to talk about this someday —someday soon. The future of the business depends on it.”
Jade visibly shrinks in her dad’s arms when she hears those words. Her words are barely more than a whisper as she responds, “Yeah, Daddy, I know. Believe me, I know. It’s not like I could forget, ever.”
I study Jade carefully and realize that she is drinking another energy drink, but it’s a different one than she was drinking before. “Hey, I’m about to grab something to eat. I absolutely hate eating by myself. People make all sorts of dramatic assumptions about my social life if I sit by myself in the corner of the restaurant. Unfortunately, I haven’t had a chance to visit your mom this week to see if she’s got any new paperbacks for me. I would just stick out like a sore thumb. Please rescue me and go to lunch with me,” I plead.
Jade gives me a double take as she exclaims, “You go see my mom every week for books? Even I don’t do that!”
I grin as I shrug. “Usually, I’m your mom’s favorite customer. There was that time that the Greyhound bus took off with my backpack on board and someone took off with my stuff. I wasn’t your mom’s favorite customer that week, but usually I am. I read so much she wants me to start writing a column for the library’s website. I told her that I’m not really much of a writer. In typical Diamond fashion, she told me I was full of crap. She told me that if I could write lyrics to a song and do poetry slams, I could write book reviews.”
“What’s stopping you?” Jade probes.
“I don’t know,” I reply. “I guess I don’t see how I’m qualified to write book reviews. I’m just a musician. I write songs for a living and I play music to make people happy. I don’t know anything about books other than what I like to read. Why should my opinion count?”
“My mom must have a good reason for trusting your opinion,” she points out, as I help her put her jacket on. I notice she winces as she reaches back to put her arm in the sleeve. “Exactly how many books do you read in a week?”
“Usually three or four. If I’m going on a really long road trip, sometimes it’s more. Usually, I’ll tell your mom in advance if I’m planning a gig that’s a long ways from home. Sometimes, when that happens she’ll pull me a whole series of books. Your mom is a really great librarian. She takes great care of me. Most people take one look at my appearance and decide that I’m too dumb to read.
Jade turns around and faces the back of the shop as she announces, “I’m not making any guarantees that I’ll be back today. I have a colossal headache and I don’t have any more appointments booked today. My arms are feeling shaky from doing a huge back piece this morning, so the world might thank me if I just stay away.”
“Go. Go out for ice cream, go home, go out to a movie, or go do something crazy. You’ve been covering for everybody and no one’s been covering for you. That’s not the deal you made when you became a part owner. You’re supposed to be taking some perks as part of the deal. I don’t see you doing that.”
“I went shopping with the Spooky Twins that one time,” Jade asserts defensively.
“Ice, that was months ago,” Marcus counters, using her nickname.
“It was not — oh I guess it was,” she admits sheepishly.
I place my hand against the back of her shoulder as I gently lead her out of the store. “Come on, I know you have the heart of a warrior, but I am a mere mortal and I’m starving. If we hurry, we can beat Frannie’s afternoon rush.”
“Frannie’s?” she repeats with a puzzled expression on her face. “What in the world is Frannie’s?”
“Only the best eating establishment in all of creation,” I answer. “Do you mean to tell me that you are this close to greatness and you’ve never actually been there?”
“Yeah, I guess that’s what I’m telling you,” she responds as she rolls her shoulders and bites back a torrent of cuss words.
“Did you do that piece on Smoke’s back all in one session?”
Jade shrugs
as she responds, “Yeah, I know it wasn’t my brightest move. I know better and I’m going to be paying the price for the next day or two.”
“Why did you do it then? You usually pace yourself better than that,” I ask, as I try to rub a knot out of her shoulder.
At first she freezes at the contact. Jade and I have been casual friends for a while. Our social circles interact a lot and we have similar senses of humor. She’s been pretty good at supporting my career such as it is. Whenever I post stuff on my Facebook or twitter, she always shares that with all of her friends and she’ll post flyers in Ink’d Deep for me if I’ve got a big gig coming up. I suspect if you asked Jade how I felt about her, she’d probably tell you that I’m one of her buddies — if we drank more, we’d probably be considered beer buddies. The truth of the matter is, I’d like to be more than Jade’s buddy. I’ve just never figured out how to change who I am to her. I heard her tell one of her customers that no one respects her abilities as an artist because all they see are her boobs, lips and hair. I don’t want to be “that guy”.
It’s true, I am deeply attracted to Jade — I won’t deny it. The reason that I am deeply attracted to her is because she is an incredible artist and she is witty, smart and fiercely funny. She is a loyal friend and confidant. She is compassionate to clients and bends over backwards to make them happy. There is no getting around the fact that she is scorching hot. Her hair just begs for a man to wrap himself up in it and get lost, her lips are the soft kissable kind and those eyes — those eyes will keep a million secrets and tell you everything you need to know.
Although we’ve been close acquaintances for years, this is the first time I’ve had the opportunity to give her a backrub. I wait quietly to see how she reacts. After a couple of seconds, she takes a deep breath and relaxes into my touch and lets her cheek loll against my forearm as she lets out a shuddering sigh and appreciates, “Oh man, that feels so good. I wish I didn’t have to ask you to stop.”
Sheltered Hearts (A Hidden Hearts Novel Book 2) Page 24