Palmer: A 2nd Generation Marked Heart Novel

by M. Sembera

  How could I be homesick? I’m home.

  Dad got up from the table, saying, “Well, it is what it is. I’ll be out back if you need me.”

  I gave him a nod before picking up my plate and walking it to the sink.

  My mind wasn’t preoccupied in the slightest by the guitar I was restringing on my lap. I could have changed out the string on my Fender Strat with my eyes closed. To be perfectly honest, I hadn’t been this confused since I took calculus my senior year. Of course, I believed my dad. His version of what happened when I was a kid, and they were away, made sense. It didn’t explain why I was feeling that way now, though. There was no way I was home sick. That made no sense to me at all.

  Sliding my guitar off of my lap, I laid it across my bed. I glanced around my room, trying to remember where I put my snips when something shiny caught my eye. With a heavy sigh, I walked to the corner and picked up my grandfather’s chain and Joie’s ring. The second it was in my hand my chest began to tighten. I closed my eyes and stood there, waiting for the feeling to pass. The longer I stood there, the more I realized, it wasn’t going away. It was getting worse. I hung Joie’s gift on the corner of my mirror, where she left it, and headed out back to talk to my dad.

  Caffrey Customs is my dad’s shop, located right behind our house. He makes custom wooden furniture, everything you can think of from kitchen tables, to bookshelves, to bannisters. Steady orders kept him busy and in his shop every day of the week, including a few hours on Sundays. It was basically a one man show with the exception of his apprentice. Which I wasn’t thinking about when I walked in.

  “Dad, you got a minute,” I asked, making it a point to ignore Roe’s presence.

  Placing his tape measure on the work bench, he looked over and raised his eyebrows at me.

  I stared at him for a second before stressing, “I need to talk to you.”

  “Roe, why don’t you take a break.”

  There was an immediate burst of pride as Roe turned and I saw the black under his eyes that accompanied his swollen nose.

  “Yea, run along,” I spouted as he walked past me.

  Before he made it out the door, dad stopped him. “You two shake hands.”

  I glared at Roe before scowling at my dad. “Nope.”

  Roe held his hand out and I growled under my breath at his gesture.

  Kiss-ass.

  “I hope you didn’t have plans today because the three of us are gonna stand here until you do,” dad warned with a serious expression.

  Shaking his hand just pissed me off even more.

  As I let go of his hand, I griped, “You could have told me, ya know.”

  “This is about you?”

  Narrowing my eyes at him, I assured, “No, it’s about Joie.”

  “Is it?”

  “Yea, and if you were any kind of a man, you would have said somethin’ when I told you I was…conflicted about her, this past summer.”

  “Would it have changed the way you feel about her?”

  “I wouldn’t have kissed her, that’s for damn sure.”

  Roe paused with a confused expression. “You kissed her?”

  “She didn’t tell you?” I questioned before smirking at him. “She didn’t tell you. How does that feel?”

  Shrugging me off, he replied, “It doesn’t feel like anything. That’s between you and her.”

  “Are you serious right now?”

  Without answering me he turned to walk out.

  “I kissed your girl and it doesn’t bother you at all?”

  “Is that why you kissed her?” he asked, glancing at me from over his shoulder.

  Narrowing my eyes at him, I assured, “Unlike you, I never would have if I’d known y’all had somethin’ going on.”

  “How was I supposed to know you were going to wake up one day and decide you liked her?”

  This wasn’t about liking her. I always liked her.

  “You should have said somethin’,” I barked as he began to walk away.

  Making his way out the door, he turned back to me and shared, “I’m sorry.”

  This time I let him walk out.

  After standing there staring at the door for a few minutes, I turned and looked at my dad.

  “You needed to talk to me?”

  Shaking my head, I looked down at the floor of his shop.

  Dad made his way closer to where I was standing as he offered, “There’s nothing anyone can do to undo what’s done. Blaming it all on Roe won’t accomplish anything, either. Everyone seems hell bent on focusing on what Joie needs. Meanwhile, that boy is scared and no one’s giving him a second thought.”

  “What’s he got to be afraid of?”

  Dad’s eyes were sincere as he replied, “Being a father.”

  I ran my hands across my eyes and down the sides of my beard. Well, hell.

  I didn’t expect to feel bad for Roe, not in the slightest, but shit happens, ya know. As I started to think about what it would be like to be in the spot he was in, my dad interrupted my thoughts.

  “So, you kissed Joie?”

  Shrugging, I replied, “Sort of before she popped me in my eye.”

  “I’m guessing she wasn’t as fond of the idea as you were,” he laughed.

  Why does everyone find it funny that she could have blinded me?

  “Yea, I’m guessin’,” I sneered at him.

  “Why did you wait so long?”

  Scowling, I shook my head at him.

  “To kiss her, son, what took you so long? And don’t say you haven’t always had feelings for her because we both know that’s a lie.”

  I opened my mouth to argue, then decided it would be a waste of both our time.

  “I’m three years older than her.”

  I get that it doesn’t seem like such a huge age gap now but it sure as hell was when she was thirteen and I was sixteen.

  “And she’s twenty, now. That means she’s been eighteen for two years. Again, what took you so long?”

  “What difference does it make? She’s with Roe.”

  “Is that what has you so upset?”

  What am I a little girl, now? Who’s upset? Not me.

  “I ain’t upset. I’m just having a hard time with the fact that she won’t talk to me.”

  Dad gave a loud exhale before saying, “I see.”

  “What? What do you see? Could you help me out a little here then?”

  A slow smile formed as he replied, “Have you tried being her friend?”

  “I’ve been her friend.”

  His smile widened as he added, “I’m not talking about whatever it is you’ve been doing since y’all were kids. I mean actually being a friend to her.” I kind of already knew what he was saying before he explained, “Palmer, you don’t treat her like a friend, you never have. If you care about her and want her in your life, then it’s about time you stop acting like she’s your responsibility and start supporting her like a friend would.”

  Pushing through the door at Legacy Ink, I noticed Joie purposely turn her back to me as I walked in.

  Walking right up to her, I swore, “I didn’t have sex with the stripper.”

  She turned and glared at the same time Mom shouted, “Palmer Hagan Caffrey!”

  Throwing my hands out at my sides, I defended myself, reminding her, “What? I said I didn’t.”

  “I don’t care what you do,” Joie snapped at me.

  I felt a smile tug at the corner of my mouth as I shared, “I know. You never have. That’s one of the cool things about you. I swear I would never hurt you on purpose. I’m just an asshole with a big mouth.”

  Joie’s expression began to soften as she looked up at me.

  “You’ve always been my friend no matter what and I should have been yours. What I’m tryin’ to say here is, I don’t care what you do either.”

  “Oh my gosh, that’s so sweet!” Aunt Penny’s voice unexpectedly rang through the shop.

  Both Joie and I looked over
at her as she replied, “Oh, sorry,” with an apologetic smile.

  I waited for Joie to face me again before asking, “You forgive me?”

  There was a yes in her eyes as she replied, “Your two o’clock appointment is running fifteen minutes late.”

  Chapter Eleven

  It took about a month for Joie to fully forgive me. I’m assuming because although she was pleasant and spoke to me, she wasn’t talking to me like before. Things were different and I could accept that. It wasn’t exactly easy though. I may have resorted to stalking her a bit. Nothing serious, it wasn’t like I set up camp in her backyard with a pair of binoculars or anything, just a little light stalking. Mostly making sure she was home safely every night and possibly following her while she was out a time or two. I’m not a creeper, ya know.

  Closing early on a day that just plain sucked, I locked the door behind the electrician. We had back to back appointments scheduled and five walk-ins, until we lost power. Overused outlets combined with old wiring caused a small fire that shorted out the entire shop.

  I was at my station with a flashlight trying to pick up a bit when Joie walked up behind me, saying, “That was crazy, right?”

  Pointing the flashlight at the ceiling as I held it between us, I laughed, “Yea, you move fast for a pregnant chic.”

  “Don’t make fun of me, I saved your life,” she laughed, swatting me on the shoulder.

  “Running to the fire extinguisher and then hollering at me to pull it off the wall and put the fire out is saving my life?”

  “You may not have thought to grab it if I hadn’t.”

  I caught myself smiling just looking at her.

  “You could use a haircut,” she informed with a gleam in her eye.

  “Is that right?”

  Nodding, she replied, “I’d be willing to help you out but you’re going to have to make it worth my while.”

  I could feel my smile spreading wide across my face as I offered, “Indentured servitude?”

  Her expression was comical as she placed her finger on her chin and glanced up, pretending to think it over.

  “That is a tempting offer but I’ll settle for a ride home,” she informed with a cheesy grin.

  Following the same routine as always, I grabbed a chair from the kitchen and brought it to the bathroom while Joie was in her room changing her clothes. When she walked in the bathroom, I couldn’t help but stare. She didn’t look pregnant at least not the way my mind thought a woman would. Her belly wasn’t big and round, yet, it was just kind of pudgy. It stands to reason since, by my count, she was only five months. Still, I wasn’t expecting to find that sort of thing sexy.

  I tried to sit there and relax but it was hard. Her breath tickling the back of my neck, the sensation her fingers caused every time they touched my skin, forming a complete thought, remembering the way her lips felt against mine, everything about this was hard. Hard, damn it.

  “Where’s your dad?” I blurted out at her, doing my best to change my train of thought.

  Snipping away at my hair, she replied, “He picked up a day of overtime.”

  “Really? That’s good.”

  Actually, I don’t care. Let’s keep talking about your dad though.

  “Yea, he’s been doing really good lately. Ever since we told him about the baby.”

  You and Roe are a ‘we’ now? Never mind, it’s working.

  “How’d that go?”

  Wearing a pouty expression, she paused for a moment before sharing, “Okay, I guess. He wasn’t mad. He started crying and said he blames himself for not being a better father. Your dad came over though and that was good. They talked for a long time.”

  Scowling at her in the mirror, I questioned, “So, what’s with the sad face?”

  “It just seems like no one’s happy about my baby. I mean, I get it. I was really freaked out too at first but it’s not like I’m twelve years old and pregnant, I’m twenty.”

  “Are you happy about it?”

  With a shrug, she replied, “I’m kind of getting excited. Next week is my ultrasound and we might get to see if it’s a boy or a girl.”

  There’s that damn ‘we’ again.

  “Roe’s going with you?”

  Placing her scissors on the counter, she leaned against it and faced me.

  “I hope so. I asked him to.”

  “How’s that going?”

  Shaking her head at me, she appeared confused.

  “You and Roe?”

  “Oh, umm… We haven’t really talked about that.”

  “Y’all haven’t?”

  “It’s not like we were dating. It was more like a long drawn out one-night-stand. I know how bad that sounds but I think there’s time for us to figure out if there’s more to it. Besides, I don’t think marriage has anything to do with whether someone’s a good parent or not.”

  “Did he ask you?”

  “He kind of hinted at it the night I told him but he also seemed relieved that I wasn’t onboard with the idea.”

  It seemed wrong to ask, even to me, but I did it anyway. “You’re single?”

  She gave me an odd look before replying, “Well, yea, I guess. I don’t plan on dating anyone though.”

  Why is she looking at me like that?

  “I wasn’t gonna ask you out or anything,” I assured just in case I made things awkward by asking.

  “I didn’t think you were.” Rolling her eyes, she laughed at me.

  Wait, why is that funny?

  Pulling the sheet from around my shoulders, she stated, “All done. Thanks for the ride home.”

  I was going to ask her if she wanted to hang out for a while but I took the hint and left instead.

  On my way home Aunt Penny called and as it turned out, the day wasn’t going to be a total loss after all.

  The marking room at Aunt Penny’s was silent with the exception of the hum of the marking needle. Standing by the table with the log book that held every mark the men in my family had received, I watched my aunt tattoo a Celtic heart inside of a blooming rose on left side of my third cousin Daniel’s chest. It was a legacy I was proud to be a part of. Legend says that back when the only marks us Irish men wore were for battle, a warrior had my ancestor mark the left side of his chest with a Celtic heart in honor of the woman he loved. It was something he passed on to his sons as a type of commitment to the women who’d won over the men in our family’s hearts. That’s basically how it started. My mom’s first husband, the original owner of Legacy Ink, Kieran Caffrey, was the family marker just like his father before him and so on. He’s the one Aunt Penny apprenticed with. When he died, she became the family marker. No one else in the family ever showed any interest until me. My aunt says it’s in our blood, like a calling. All I know is, from the first time I heard the story, I knew that’s what I wanted to do. It’s more than a tattoo, it’s a mark, full of history, rich with tradition and a honor to be the one to give it.

  After Aunt Penny finished with Daniel and sent him on his way, she and I stayed in the marking room.

  With a sweet smile, she asked, “Do you think you’re ready?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Good because the next one is yours,” she cheered at me.

  “You serious?”

  “I’ll sit in and supervise but the next request is all yours.”

  I lifted her off of the ground in a hug, squeezing her tight in my arms.

  As I set her back down, she giggled, “I’m glad you’re excited.”

  “Aunt Penny, you just don’t even know.”

  “I remember when Kieran told me I could do your Uncle Seth’s. I just about peed my pants I was so happy.”

  I had to laughed. Only Aunt Penny could refer to something as a pee your pants moment and it still be cool.

  The high of being officially named the next family marker was far from wearing off but the thought of wanting to call Joie and tell her reminded me of something else.

  “I t
hink I should tell you somethin’.”

  A concerned frown formed on her face as she stood there staring at me.

  “It’s nothin’ serious. It’s just that Joie thinks that no one is happy about her baby.”

  Her expression changed from concern to curious as she questioned, “Why would she think that?”

  “I don’t know but I thought maybe you could, ya know, make her feel better about it.”

  “Are you kidding? I admit I was shocked at first. Mostly because I never would have imagined her and Roe together but I’m thrilled.”

  Forcing a smile, I replied, “Okay, good. I just wanted to make sure… I mean who doesn’t like babies, right?”

  With a parental sigh, she placed her hand on my shoulder. “How are you doing with all this?”

  “Hey, I’m just glad she’s talking to me again.”

  Patting me on the shoulder, she nodded at me with a smile.

  Chapter Twelve

  A gah damn stalker, that’s what I am.

  The shop was closed for the rest of the week in order for the electricians to update the wiring, leaving me with more than enough free time on my hands. I may have decided to use that free time to keep an eye on Joie while parked in my car, two houses down and across the street from hers. And while I hadn’t made the leap to purchasing those binoculars, I had started packing a lunch. I’ll admit I was being irrational but statistically, the leading causes of death and injuries take place inside the home.

  My favorite part of the day was between the hours of one and two when Joie would walk out to the mailbox and check the mail. Actually, my favorite part was watching her walk back to the house. That had less to do with me knowing she was safe and more to do with my own personal enjoyment. Anyway, it was getting to be about that time when my cell vibrated with a text.

  Joie: Would you like to come inside?

  Shit.

  I held my breath, slouched down in my seat and texted back.

  Palmer: You mean come over?

  Joie: I can see you.

  Poking my head up, I saw her waving at me from the front window.

  Damn it!