by LK Walker
It’s at that point I remember how much I love Jack. With my imaginary man, there is such tension. With Jack, it’s so natural. I can’t help but laugh out loud. I might stray in my dreams, but there is no way I would do it in real life. Jack has all of me.
He slides himself up, so his face is once again level with mine.
“I hate that she hurt your lovely lips. All I want to do is kiss you senseless.”
“I love you, Jack,” and my heart is full with it. All the bad things that have happened are gone and, in that moment, his presence helps heal the pain.
“I love you too.” Another gentle peck. “I can’t call you angel face with that fat lip. What should I call you instead? Hmmm…” he contemplates, “…angel rack.” And his head starts heading south again.
“You’re a shocker.” But I’m still laughing. Until his hand becomes adventurous and I let out a long moan.
The parts of my brain used for any real thought turn off in a blink and I’m lost in Jack.
My Jack.
Chapter 5
My dreams are giving me ideas. Nana’s tattoo must be a reminder to her of something and that’s what I want. A reminder.
It’s the first time I’ve been in a tattoo studio. I’m not sure what I expected, but it smells a bit like the doctor’s office. That should be a good thing, right? It should mean it’s clean. Only problem is, I’m not a fan of doctors, so I feel a little on edge. Jack is here holding my hand. He responds to my hesitation.
“Are you sure you want to do this? It’s pretty impulsive—even for you.”
“I do.” I lead him further into the studio until the woman slaving over someone’s calf, tattoo machine in hand, looks up.
“Be right with you,” she says. The hefty guy sprawled over her bench appears relieved. He’s not screaming, though he looks like he wants to.
Jack is happy flipping through the magazines on the table, while I stare at the pictures of peoples tattoos that line the wall. It’s only another ten minutes before the tattooist comes over and asks how she can help.
“Three chevrons, the Viking symbol, do you know it?” I ask.
“Yeah, I’ve seen it before, never done it. Does it have special meaning?”
“It’s an old rune, it means ‘to create your own reality’. Well, that’s what the internet says, anyway.” I smile, hoping I don’t sound like some kid with a whim.
“Nice.” This woman is blunt, not in an unkind way. Her body shows off her trade and it looks impressive. “You fluked today. I don’t usually take walk-in’s. I’m booked months in advance but a client cancelled. Freed up my whole afternoon.”
“I want initials too, under the chevrons. KS. Mom’s initials.” She holds her eyes on me longer than necessary. The tattooist must have seen it so many times before, a memorial on skin.
“Hop up in the chair and I’ll get organized.”
The tattooist draws the design on a piece of paper. I like her first attempt and go with it. An hour later I walk out with a bandage over my wrist. Before the artist taped on the dressing, the skin all around my new markings was glowing red. I might not be able to see it anymore, but I can feel how angry the skin is.
Before we get in the car, Jack puts a hand around my waist, careful to avoid my new wound and gently pushes me up against the passenger door.
“It looks amazing, babe. Your mom would be honored.” Then he smiles, the warm smile that has helped me get this far. His incisors have longer points to them than most people. Not vampirish, but it makes his mouth interesting, enjoyable to watch when he talks. It’s surrounded by a mousey brown stubble that’s there from not shaving the last couple of days, rather than by design. It looks good on him. I might have to ask him to keep it.
“I know it was a bit abrupt, so thank you for not questioning me, for not saying it was a bad idea.”
“Like I could change your mind when it’s set on something.”
“If I was going to listen to anyone, it would be you. Jack, if you’d said this morning that I was being ridiculous, I wouldn’t have gone through with it.”
“Really?” His voice is flat.
I shrug my shoulders. “I’d have at least thought twice about it.”
Jack smiles again. I grab the front of his shirt and pull him in close so I can place a kiss on his lips. My cut lip still hurts and I have to go easy on it.
“Did you think it was a bad idea?” I’m not sure why I ask. If he doesn’t like it, I don’t want to hear about it now.
“No. I like it. Your Mom would never want it to haunt you, though. Make it positive, create your own reality, and it will be the best thing for you and the best tribute to her.”
“Sounds like good advice.”
“I’m full of good advice. What else you want to know?”
Chapter 6
How many times today have I looked at the bottom right-hand corner of my computer screen to check the time. I watch the numbers zero out to 16:00. I’ve spent the whole day glancing over my shoulder, waiting for someone to tell me my job is going to end. My prick-of-a-boss has managed to get in one final blow. He promised me Human Resources would come today. What sort of promise is that? He even said it like he was doing me a favor.
The cursor has been flashing at the same spot on the excel spreadsheet for a while now as I play my conversation with Captain Jackass over in my head. I hear footsteps behind me, but I don’t dare look around. Instead, I try to appear busy, but I can’t remember what I was doing with the spreadsheet. The papers on my desk crinkle as I fumble through them looking for a clue. I sit at the far end of a large room, an open plan office for all the small players. There’s no natural light down my end, only the fuzzy glow of halogen tube lamps. I would love a window now so I could catch a reflection of who’s coming. It must be someone from Human Resources, it’s time they showed up to perform their fickle duty.
“Colonel.” One of the officers in the room starts off a procession. The scrape of chairs behind me is a giveaway, enlisted personnel stand to salute. Civilians don’t salute. It’s one of the perks of being on the outside. There are no colonels in HR. It’s an anti-climax and my elbow ends up on the desk to prop my head up. I try to get on with work, but my mind is lost, considering my job options. I spent the weekend looking at employment websites. There’s so little work around and I’m not qualified for any remotely interesting positions. I can hear the boot-steps coming towards me and it shocks me that they stop behind my chair.
“Ms. Sullivan,” I know the voice. I swivel my chair around to see Eli in full military fatigues looking down at me. His hands are grasped firmly behind his back. His light brown hair, the same color as mine, is not quite a short back and sides, it just has a bit more style.
“Eli, what are you wearing?” My brother cuts me off sharply.
“We’ll review that in private.” His tone is clipped. It’s not what I'm used to hearing coming out of his mouth. It has the right effect, though. I keep my mouth shut and say nothing more.
My boss slithers his way out of his office and sidles up next to my desk. “Colonel Sullivan, have you come to discuss my new position?” Even I’m surprised by the slickness in his voice.
“No, I’ve come to use your meeting room. Where is it?” Eli’s words are dry by comparison.
Deflated, Captain Jackass points to the far left-hand corner of the floor.
“Thank you. Cara, if you’ll accompany me?” Eli’s voice is steely, so unlike him. I almost want to poke him in the ribs to see if my brother is still in there. His cold expression stops me. Eli waves his hand in the direction of the room, ushering me towards it.
“Has she done something wrong, Colonel? I’d be happy to put her on notice—at your request.”
How very noble of him. My wonderful boss is offering to throw me under a moving bus to get himself in good stead with someone important.
“No.” If I thought Eli’s voice was cutting before, I was wrong. “Ms. Sullivan and I have m
atters to discuss.”
The penny drops. Same last name. Same facial features. Captain Jackass must be gutted he didn’t work that out earlier.
“If there is anything else I can do…” When Eli gives him a withering look, he scuttles away.
“Colonel?” I ask when the meeting room door is shut behind us.
“It’s a fairly recent promotion. And I haven’t seen you for a while.” His voice is back to normal. It must have been for show. He’s good at it. Hard-arse suits him.
I’m a little ashamed I haven’t talked to him for the past month. He’s been busy too—this must be why. Work has been his safety net since Mom died. We both put our heads in the sand, but I know he is never far away if I need him.
“How you doin’, sis?” He sits down on the grey metal seat across from me. A wide Formica table creates distance between us.
“Just the same.” I’m not sure what I should say. No way I’m crying here. I shrug it off.
“I hope it gets easier.” Mom’s death hit him as hard as it did me. But he is much better at hiding it. Now and again I see a glimpse of his pain. I think he lets me see it so I don’t feel so alone.
“What brings you into my neck of the woods, Eli?”
“Your boss is being shifted.”
“So he tells me. Secrets aren’t his forte.”
“I’ll have to remember that since he’s being transferred to my department. Another Colonel confirmed his position. It seems he has influential friends.”
“That’s not surprising. He’s a complete kiss-arse.”
“I believe he exhibited his need to please when he so kindly offered to reprimand you.” He shakes his head in bewilderment. “What has he told you about his new role.” I fill Eli in on what Captain Jackass told me.
“Shit. He really can’t keep his trap shut.” He shakes his head before looking at me with those big brother eyes.
“Then there’s your role. You have a couple of options. If you enjoy it where you are, you’re more than welcome to stay. They’ll appoint someone new to fill his role and you can work for whoever that turns out to be.” He pauses. “Or.”
“Or I have to find another job?” I understand well enough.
“Or there is another position that may be suitable. In admin still. I can’t tell you much about it. You’d be working for the government not the Department of Defense.”
“So, I can stay a civi?”
“Exactly.”
“What’s the downside?” There must be one, Eli is shifting uncomfortably in his seat and has a goofy look on his face like there is a punchline coming.
“You would be working with me.”
“Oh, that is a downside.” I raise my eyebrows in mockery. “Will it be interesting?”
“I can assure you it will be.” Eli’s face animates and I can tell he is dying to tell me what I’d be doing.
“But I have to work for you?”
“It won’t be for me, but with me. Same building. You might not even see much of me. Anyway, it can’t be any worse than what you’re used to?”
“Good point.” I consider any possible disadvantages. I’m scratching at an empty barrel. “And you’re not going to tell me what I’d be doing?”
“Nothing more than what your boss has already disclosed.” He reaches over and pats the one hand I have resting on the table. “It’ll be good. Promise. And you’ll be treated a lot better than you are now.” My tattooed wrist sits below the desk, so Eli can’t see the bandage poking out of my long-sleeved shirt.
“What about Jackass, do I still have to work with him?”
“I doubt you’d have much to do with him.”
That’s good enough for me. “Alright. I’m in,” I say with a big grin.
“You don’t want to think about it for a while?”
“What for? As you say—it can’t be any worse, right?”
“Excellent.” My brother looks happy with himself. “I thought you might take some convincing.”
“The devil you know, I guess.” What an emotional ride. I was so sure I was going to be out of work, that’s what Captain Jackass had insinuated. Instead, not only am I not losing my job, I’m getting a better one.
It’s a good day.
“We want you on board as soon as possible. I’ll have the contract drafted and bring it to you for signing when it’s prepared. I have the position confirmed so you can hand in your notice when you’re ready.” Eli tells me.
“With pleasure.” It’s my turn to be enthusiastic. It is probably the malevolent chuckle that makes him specify, “Nicely, Cara.”
“Spoil sport.” I screw up my nose.
As I open the door, Eli’s back goes rigid again. I had no idea he was two different people. For me though, he is still my brother and he never stops looking out for me. One day I need to get around to telling him how grateful I am, or I might even get to do something life changing in return. I would prefer the latter.
Since my employment agreement states I must give one months’ notice, that’s what I give, not a day more.
The rest of the week flies by, my stress has gone and every time my boss opens his mouth I know there is a finish date to his dictatorship.
I mark it down on the calendar with big, fat, red, vivid x’s.
Chapter 7
My mother always told me to celebrate every good thing that befalls us to make up for all that we punish ourselves with. I raise my beer bottle to her memory before emptying the last of its contents. Eli slams a full beer down in front of me, spilling a little on the table. Jack appears behind him, back from the bathroom.
“Here’s to you, Cara. To new adventures.” Eli raises his drink and Jack and I follow suit, peeling our fresh bottles from the sticky mess on the table.
“And to you for making it possible.” I clink his bottle. “Shame I have to wait three weeks until it’s reality.” The liquid is cool and fresh after the dregs of my last beer.
“There would be nothing for you to do anyway. My new lab won’t be functional until then. They’re bringing half the equipment from out east and custom-fitting the entire building to our requested spec’s. The end result will be phenomenal.” Eli’s cheeks are rosy and he’s smiling like a Cheshire cat. That’s not surprising - this is our third drink. I’m decidedly tipsy and It’s a good place to stop. My face is warm and I feel a true sense of happiness, a feeling I haven’t had in a while. Yet, I find myself at the bar ordering the next round. I want to stay at the pub, just a bit longer, in my bliss with Jack and Eli.
“Am I carrying you home tonight?” Jack asks. He knows I’m a lightweight drinker.
“Last one.” I wrap an arm around him and plant a huge kiss on his cheek. The grinning is contagious.
“How can I say no to that?”
An hour later I’m standing outside in the cool air, with Jack, waiting for a taxi. It’s nearing 0100 hours and my eyelids are doing their best to close. Jack has caught me a couple of times as my center of gravity is thrown off by the alcohol. He scoops me up in his arms and places me in the taxi before shuffling in and directing the driver home.
I drift off as the taxi threads through the early morning traffic, but it’s not until I’m in my own bed that I fall into a heavy sleep.
I’m lying flat on my back. When I think of it, I’m always lying down when I fall into my dream.
“Cara.” Zander calls my name.
I lift my head to look for him. I can’t see him. I heave myself up onto my elbows. One slides off the side of the table and I drop back. My next attempt is just as unsuccessful.
“Cara, are you okay?” Zander sits next to me wrapping an arm around my shoulders to sit me upright.
I laugh a little, “I’m drunk.” How cool to be drunk in my dream. “And proud.” I proclaim.
He looks a relieved by my answer. “Nothing serious then.”
“Depends on how many I had,” I say it like it's an intelligent statement.
“And how man
y would that be?”
I hold up my hand, splaying my fingers. “Four,” I whisper.
“Nothing serious then?”
“No,” I reply with a laugh.
“Looks like training is out.”
“Oh, but look, your face is in. I can see your sexy brown eyes.”
For some reason, my thoughts spill out, well not some reason—alcohol.
“I am actually drunk in my dream. Who dreams they are drunk? I’ve never heard of anyone. Maybe this isn’t a dream at all?” I turn to Zander. “Is this real?” His face furrows. “And my other life is a dream?” I’m so sure that dreaming drunk doesn’t add up, but my brain isn’t working properly.
“Come on,” Zander grabs my hand and pulls me off the bed. “You can make your mind up later.”
Before I exit the room, I do what I haven’t done before, I turn back and look at where I’ve come from. It’s a plain white room with a bed in the middle. I take another step and think I can see the end of another bed in a separate partition. The thought crosses my mind that I might be in a hospital. I don’t want to know the answer, so I don’t ask.
We walk across the field. Zander hasn’t dropped my hand since we left the room. He becomes aware of it at the same time I do and unmeshes his fingers from mine.
“I like it when you’re wearing your face.” I look up at him and he gives me a glimpse of his smile, which dies just as quickly. He appears to be worried about something.
“Everything good?” I know he won’t tell me even if there is something wrong, but I try anyway.
“Just fine.” His reply is as expected.
The building we enter is not one I’ve been in before. It’s three stories high, architecturally designed, no straight line in sight.
“Wow, awesome,” I look up to its apex and then hurriedly throw my leg back to balance, halting my swaying. I’m suddenly aware how sober he is. I try to act it, sucking my lips in as if that might stop dumb comments coming out of my mouth.
“That’s only the outside.” He pulls on my hand again.
The doors slide open for us. A female voice greets Zander by name, letting him know that all the rooms are available.