Pierce Me: Satisfied by the Bad Boy

by Simone Sowood

  “Honey, this will always be your real home.”

  “Why didn’t he tell me about Mom? Why didn’t Mom tell me about his mom?” I ask, the anger fueling me enough to sit up.

  “I don’t know. It sucks. Possibly because of patient confidentiality? Or maybe she thought she would never have to tell you.”

  “He’s right, you guys are so important to me. How can I have a relationship with anyone who isn’t a part of my family?”

  “At least he tried for you, he did his best and that’s something. But if he’s decided he can’t be around Mom then there’s nothing much you can do.”

  Sophie pulls me into her arms and rubs my back. I let her comfort me. She’s right, this is my home. I can’t live without my family. But I also feel like I can’t live without Gabe. I could never choose between them. I guess that’s why Gabe chose for me.

  I spend the next three days in my childhood bed, with Sophie waiting on me hand and foot. I started out texting Gabe every hour but he never replied. Now I’m trying to accept the situation, and I’ve only texted him once today.

  My parents have poked their heads in the door and asked how I’m doing but they’re otherwise staying away from me. I don’t know why, I suppose they feel guilty. I hope they feel bad for not telling me. Maybe things would’ve turned out differently. If I’d known, I would’ve brought him for coffee, not dinner. Everything would’ve been in the open, and maybe we all could’ve talked our way through this.

  Right now I’m struggling to think of a reason to ever get out of bed again. I just want to hide in my family’s home. Forever.

  I’m flicking through the pages on my Kindle, unable to concentrate on the words, when my mother comes in the room.

  “How are you doing?” she asks, sitting on the bed beside me.

  “Awful.”

  “I guess that was a pretty big shock. You didn’t expect dinner to end the way it did.”

  “You could say that. I can’t believe no one told me what was going on.”

  “When you told me you were seeing him, I didn’t know what to do. I’ve spent the last fifteen years trying to come to terms with what happened to Rose Irwin.”

  “Her name was Rose?” I ask, envisioning all the rose tattoos on Gabe’s chest.

  “Yes. Why?”

  “It explains all his rose tattoos.”

  Her body tenses, and my mother looks like she’s going to say something. Instead a silence falls between us.

  “I miss him,” I say and exhale sharply.

  “I know you do, sweetie. He obviously meant a lot to you.”

  “Means,” I correct her. “He means a lot to me, he always will. How am I supposed to go on? I know he loves me, he told me he loves me. But he said he’d never pull a child away from their parents, and that includes me.”

  Gabe

  My swollen knuckles are killing me, and I relax the grip on the tattoo gun. I spent the last five days pummeling the shit out of my punching bag.

  I’d canceled all my appointments on Sunday, Monday and Tuesday. It’s Friday today, and I figured I could use the distraction of working.

  It’s the end of the day. There have been a few slips and mistakes but nothing I couldn’t cover up. Plus I haven’t exactly been gentle with the needle. There’s some satisfaction making grown men wince with pain.

  “You’re done for today. You’ll have to make another appointment to finish off this spider,” I tell the burly guy in my chair.

  “I thought you said it would be done today.”

  “Look at this,” I say, holding up my battered right hand.

  “Fuck, man. You been fighting?”

  “Only myself.”

  “Idiot.”

  “Pretty much. Hey, Ryan, can you tell this guy about aftercare for what he’s had done today and book him in to get the rest done.”

  “Sure, man,” Ryan says.

  I stand and move through the door to our private staff area. There’s still some coffee in the pot and I pour it into my mug from this morning.

  It’s lukewarm and bitter, but I chuck it down my throat anyway.

  Both of my hands are stiff and painful. While I’ve been punching, I’ve been thinking of my left hand as the pain of Eloise and my right hand as the pain of my mother.

  But I realized there’s only one root cause of all the pain, and that’s Eloise’s mother, Miranda.

  It doesn’t seem to matter that it’s been fifteen years, my mom’s death seems to bubble along just under my surface. And seeing Eloise’s parents brought it bursting through the barrier. Now it seems like her death is fresh all over again.

  It was stupid to go there and see them. I thought I could do it for Eloise. I wanted to do anything for Eloise, but the pain was too raw. And now I have the raw pain of losing Eloise on top of it.

  No one has ever made me feel the way she does, and I know no one else will ever make me feel that way. When I’m with her, the pain of life fades into the background.

  “Hey, where are you going? You can’t go back there,” Ryan shouts.

  Eloise’s mother storms into the staff area. Her hair is half tied back and her clothes are disheveled.

  “Gabe, I’m so glad I finally found you. We need to talk,” Miranda says.

  “No, we don’t. Get the fuck out,” I say, slamming my mug onto the counter.

  “For Eloise’s sake.”

  “The best thing for Eloise is a clean break.”

  “No, it isn’t, she’s been a wreck all week. She hasn’t even been able to leave my house.”

  “Good, she needs her family.” I turn my back on her, wanting her to leave.

  “What she needs is you.”

  My throat tightens as I picture how upset Eloise was when I left her. Doing that to her crushed me. The last thing I want is to cause Eloise any pain. But I had no choice.

  “Too bad she has you for a mother, now you’re responsible for causing us both a lot of pain.” I turn back to her, my eyes fierce.

  “I’ll never forgive myself for missing your mother’s cervical cancer.”

  “Good, I’ll never forgive you either,” I say, my voice harsh.

  “She wasn’t just another patient, you know.”

  “I know. She was my mom.”

  “And she was a mother with two young kids in each of my own children’s classes. When you and Eloise were small, we used to help out on the PTA together. We were friends.” Miranda swallows and continues. “Losing her broke my heart.”

  “Then you should’ve caught the cancer.”

  “She came in complaining about back pain. When someone comes in with back pain your brain doesn’t exactly jump to a cervical cancer diagnosis.”

  I close my eyes and remember my mom’s smile.

  “She had other symptoms,” I say flatly.

  “But she didn’t tell me about them right away. She was too embarrassed to talk about the symptoms that might’ve saved her life. Trust me, when I did start to suspect something else, I had a hard enough time convincing her to get a Pap smear.” Her eyes and voice plead with me, but all I feel is rage.

  “Stop blaming her,” I say, my teeth gritted.

  “I’m not,” she says, shaking her head. “I’ve spun this around over and over in my head, and I realized that some situations are simply tragic and we have to accept that.”

  “I don’t have to accept a damned thing.” My hand whacks against the cupboards, sending a shot of pain through my swollen hand.

  “You do if you want to find happiness. Because if Eloise really does make you feel the way you make her feel, you owe it to your mother to embrace that. She and your father were so much in love, and she’d want you to have the same thing. I know she would.” She wipes a stray tear from her eye.

  I don’t say anything as I digest her words. I hadn’t considered what my mom would want, but I’m sure she’d want me to have what she had before everything fell apart.

  “Leave.” I spit the word at her
.

  “Can I show you something first?” she asks, yanking down the collar of her shirt.

  A small tattoo of a rose sits on top of her heart. I’m shocked. She definitely doesn’t seem like the type of woman to have a tattoo on her breast. Getting it must’ve been an extreme action for her.

  “I will never forget her, and here’s your proof. You don’t have to like me or care about me, or even hate me, but please don’t let the pain of this mistake I made so long ago carry on to my child.”

  “It’s not my fault, it’s yours,” I say, my voice softening.

  “I’ve done everything I can to ease the pain over losing Rose the way we did. I even donated half my income that year to the trust fund I set up, and convinced most of the other parents at school to make donations.”

  “What are you talking about? What trust fund?”

  “The one for you and your sister that you each got when you turned twenty-five.”

  “You set that up? I thought that was insurance.”

  “Insurance? No, didn’t they tell you?”

  “My father hasn’t been in my life for a hell of a long time. My aunt didn’t know what it was. She said it must be insurance.”

  “And the lawyers? Forget it, it doesn’t matter. What matters is you and Eloise. You both deserve each other, you both want each other. And both of your mothers want you to have each other, and to be happy together.”

  She reaches out her hand to me, clasps my hand for a brief moment. I refuse to meet her eyes, and she turns and hurries out of the room.

  My mind is racing. The trust fund was how I was able to buy Incredible Ink. Miranda seems genuine. And the rose tattoo proves what she’s saying.

  But does it matter how sorry she is? If Eloise and I were together, I’d have to see Miranda and I can’t see how I could ever do that.

  How could I tie myself to the doctor who missed my mother’s cancer diagnosis? For the rest of my life I’d have to have her in my life.

  But I love Eloise.

  I don’t know what to think.

  Eloise

  I’m sitting on the perfect couch in my parents’ living room. My Kindle is on the couch beside me. Reading about people falling in love doesn’t help when you’ve had your heart ripped out. It’s Saturday, and it’s been exactly a week since Gabe left. My heart aches like he left this morning.

  I still send him a text message every morning, telling him how much I miss him but he’s never replied.

  Sophie went to my apartment yesterday and brought my car here to my parents’ house for me. But I still haven’t worked up the energy or desire to go outside, or go back to my apartment. And I definitely haven’t found the willpower to go to work.

  Both of my parents have been super supportive, and haven’t pressured me to go to work at all.

  My mom told me the whole story about Gabe’s mom and even showed me the rose tattoo I never knew she had. I wish one of them had told me about it before the dinner, but I’m past being angry at either of them now.

  It doesn’t even seem like my mother was totally responsible for Gabe’s mom’s death. I mean, she couldn’t do much if she didn’t know all the symptoms. I don’t know why they both insist on blaming her. She must stop blaming herself.

  My hands fidget with the folds of my skirt. Even though Sophie tried her best to get me to do something to take my mind off things, I haven’t been outside in a week.

  But now, at almost 165 hours since I last saw Gabe, I feel the overwhelming need for fresh air.

  “I’m going for a drive,” I call out.

  Both my father and Sophie are home but I don’t know if either of them hears me.

  I grab my car keys from the floral plate beside the front door and leave the house. It’s late afternoon but the warmth from the sun beams on my face, and I pause to enjoy the feeling before I get in my Ford Focus.

  Pulling the car from the driveway, I realize I have nowhere to go. I could go to my apartment, but it’s empty and hollow without anyone there.

  Instead, I open the window and drive aimlessly around the city. Before I know it, I’m near Incredible Ink. A glance at the dashboard clock shows me they’re still open for another ten or fifteen minutes.

  I drive past, craning my head at it. My heart pounds in my chest. There’s a car in the parking lot but I don’t recognize it. Why would I, they have lots of customers.

  Somehow I’ve turned the car around, and am driving past it in the other direction. My body trembles just knowing how close I am to Gabe.

  I can’t help myself. This time I knowingly turn the car around and pull straight into the parking lot.

  I’m shaking more than I was the first time I came here but I have to see him.

  I have to.

  After turning off the car, I sit for a second and look at the Incredible Ink sign. I don’t know what comes over me, either the memory of the first time I came here or wishful thinking on my part, but I slip off my panties and drop them on the floor in the passenger seat footwell.

  My breathing is rapid and I try to calm it.

  Gabe probably won’t even want to see me, but if I can just get him to talk to me, we can work something out. Even if that something is only meaningless sex.

  His partner, Ryan, appears at the doorway, and looks like he’s locking the door. Adrenaline courses through me, and I jump out of the car.

  Running to the door, I yank on the handle, but it’s locked. With both my fists, I bang on the door.

  Through the glass, I can see both Gabe and Ryan standing near the entrance to the back room. They look in my direction, and look away again, saying something to each other.

  Ryan walks toward the door and says, “We’re closed.”

  I don’t see him, my eyes are fixed on Gabe. He’s turned sideways to me, his head angled down at the floor.

  “Look at me,” I yell.

  Ryan’s at the door now, and says, “He wants you leave.”

  “I’m not leaving,” I yell as loud as I can.

  Gabe’s shoulders hunch more, but his feet stay firm.

  “Let me in,” I scream, losing all control of my voice.

  “I’m outta here,” Ryan says, and walks to the back room. I hope he’s leaving through the back exit.

  Gabe jams his hands into his hair. My heart is racing but I won’t stop now. Just seeing him has ignited me.

  I pound on the door again. Gabe drops his hands to his sides and slowly walks to the door. As he nears, his face becomes clear. His normal bright eyes are dull, and his jaw is tight.

  He rests his fingers on the door handle.

  “What are you doing here?” he asks through the window without looking at me.

  “I want a tattoo,” I blurt without thinking.

  He sighs, and says, “We’re closed.”

  “So what? I know you do after-hours clients.”

  Our eyes meet, and a shock of sorrow hits me. I raise my hand, and press it against the glass. He’s so close, but I can’t touch him. My eyes plead with him to open the door.

  “You don’t want a tattoo, Eloise.”

  “I do. I want one of those flowers, like you drew on me. How else am I supposed to deal with this? At least that way I’ll always have part of you with me.”

  Gabe shakes his head.

  “I’ll go to Hell in a Needle if I have to,” I say desperately.

  “No, you won’t.”

  “Try me.”

  He sighs, unlocks the door, and opens it.

  “Don’t do that,” he says, standing in the doorway.

  I duck under his arm, and march straight to the chair and his station. I sit in the chair and force myself to breathe. Gabe locks the door and drags his feet over the floor as he walks to me.

  As he reaches me, I pull up my skirt.

  “I want it right here,” I say, tracing my finger along my thigh.

  Gabe sighs, and sits on his stool. His hands rest on his thighs, and I realize how red and swollen the
y are. His eyes follow mine.

  “Do you want me to look at them? I can make them feel better.”

  “No, they’re fine,” he says, and moves them behind his back. “I only give tattoos to people I definitely know want them. They’re permanent. You have to be sure.”

  “I am sure, I’m sure about everything about you.” My voice waivers.

  “Eloise, don’t.”

  My heart sinks. If he’d only talk about this we could figure out something. I know we could. My mother would support trying different solutions, she told me she would.

  “We can work something out,” I say. “I would let you cover my body from head to toe if it meant having you in my life. We can have meaningless sex until the end of time if that’s what you need.”

  “I said don’t.”

  Gabe suddenly stands, and places a hand on either side of my head on the headrest. Butterflies fill my body, and a bundle of nerves sits heavily in my gut. He’s so near, and his scent wraps around me like a hug, even if his arms don’t. I want to wrap my arms and legs around him.

  Instead I say, “Let’s talk about it.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it now.”

  He leans into me, and crushes his mouth against mine.

  Gabe

  When Eloise turned up, I fought to do what my brain was telling me to do. I tried to keep this simple for her, and not complicate her life with a man who will never be a big part of her family.

  But the longer I looked at her, the less I was able to resist her.

  I hadn’t planned on things happening this way. But now that her lips are on mine, I can taste how right she is.

  Since the talk with her mother yesterday, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. My mother would want me to be happy, and Eloise is the only person who’s ever made me feel anything even close to happy.

  Maybe her mother’s right, maybe there was no way for her to suspect cancer. She seemed genuine. That still doesn’t mean I want to hang out with her.

  I pull Eloise out of the chair, and hold her tight against me. The tension and anger I’ve been carrying around all week vanish with her in my arms. Even the grief gets buried under the happiness.