“Shit, Sophia. I haven’t seen you in what, a year?”
She pushes her rolling case to one of the tattooing stations at the front of the shop and plants her hands on her hips, smiling so widely I can see all her bright white teeth. “Insane, I know. But in my defense, it’s been super busy at the shop in Boston for the past few months.”
“That’s always good to hear. How are Kevin and Lance?”
Sophia has been a family friend since I was a teenager. She used to work with my mother at a sketchy road diner outside Warlington before moving to Boston, where she’s been tattooing now for the past few years—and doing a damn good job at it. Seriously, her technique is insane.
She was the one who convinced me to move to Boston all those years ago to learn the ropes with her. I must have been no older than fifteen when she saw my sketches for the first time and thought I had potential. In a strange way, I owe her my whole career.
Now she’s thirty-eight and married to her long-time boyfriend Kevin, who she has a little boy with. Despite not having seen her for so long, she looks exactly like I remembered—black hair that barely reaches her chin, equally black eyes and tanned skin.
“Lance is going through the terrible twos right now, so not great.” She winces. “Is it bad that I feel relieved to be away from home for a few days? Because I totally do.”
I chuckle. “I’m sure Kev will manage.”
She shakes her head. “Those two are dangerous together, Cal. Trust me, you’re lucky Maddie is such a sweet angel. Boys are unhinged. If you ever want kids, ask the universe for a little girl.”
My head goes straight to my sister, and how I’m raising her in all the ways that count. Would having my own children be similar?
I’ve never thought about it much. Growing up in a fucked-up family, the idea of creating one of my own someday rarely crossed my mind.
For one, I’ve never had a father figure to look up to. Her boyfriend at the time got my mother pregnant when they were sixteen, and he fled before I was born. I’ve never known him, and thirty years later I still don’t want to. He could be dead for all I know. Who the fuck cares?
And when I was a teenager, my mother became a shadow of the strong woman she once was. My uncle’s death took a toll on her that she never fully recovered from, and I have to live with that. We all do.
Then my sister came along, a surprise pregnancy my mom never saw coming. She didn’t think she could have another child at forty, but she wanted Maddie from the moment she found out she was growing inside of her.
When her dependency became alarmingly worse and Pete did nothing for his own family, I stepped into the main caretaker role without thinking much of it—all I knew was that I loved Maddie and I’d sacrifice anything for her to grow up happily and safely.
I know all about potty training, schooling, play dates, kiddie foods, doctor appointments, princesses, and mermaids, so I guess having my own child wouldn’t be much different from what I’m already going through with my sister. Especially if I end up having a girl.
And now I can’t stop thinking about it.
Against my will, my traitorous brain shows me a nitid image of Maddie holding a pink bundle in her arms. She’d be so excited to be an aunt, especially to little girl. Maddie would hold her carefully in her small arms, in awe at how small the baby was, how beautiful.
And I’d fall in love all over again—with my sister, with my wife, with my daughter. She’d have her mother’s blonde hair and delicate skin, a spitting image of Gra—
No.
No. No. No.
What the fuck am I doing?
“Cal?” Sophie’s voice pulls me out of my head. “Where did you go, hon?”
My heart is hammering inside my chest and my palms are sweating. Wiping them on the rough fabric of my jeans, I shake my head. “Nowhere, sorry. What were you saying?”
She smirks knowingly. “My first client is coming at two, right?”
“Yes. Right.”
Pushing Grace and a future I have no right to imagine out of my head, I force myself to focus on the woman in front of me. Sophia is here for a few days as a guest tattoo artist at Inkjection, and I want to catch up with her after all these months apart. I should be looking forward to that, not… Not marriage and babies with my best friend.
Seriously, what the fuck?
After Sophia gets settled at her booth, we come to the front so I can show her how to work the laptop. It’s still early in the morning and she’s got a few hours to spare. She tells me she’s going to stop by her hotel to take a shower, and after the shop closes, I invite her over to grab dinner at The Spoon with our friends. She hasn’t seen Trey in a while either, so I’m sure they’ll want to catch up.
“How’s your mother?”
The question shouldn’t take me off-guard, considering they were close friends once and she always asks me about her, yet it startles me anyway. Sophia crosses her arms in front of her chest, visibly uncomfortable with the conversation but wanting to find out all the same. I don’t think my mother’s reached out to her since she left Warlington, but Sophia’s always kept in touch with me.
“She’s still the same.” I scratch the back of my head. “But I guess that’s good. Things could’ve taken an ugly turn.”
She frowns, pursing her lips. “I really thought having Maddie would change things. I’m sorry it didn’t, honey. I have no doubts that she loves you both. I just hope one day she learns to love herself, too.”
And that is the problem, isn’t it? Granted, my mother doesn’t bring up her personal issues with me, but one could spot her lack of self-confidence and self-love from a mile away. Having a man abandon you and your unborn child tends to do that to a person. Not to mention rat-ass Pete, who may not be abusive towards her, but it’s painfully evident he doesn’t love her or my sister. Not like a boyfriend and a father should.
“How are you handling things with your sister?” she asks me, concern written all over her features.
I sigh. “We’re doing okay, considering how fucked-up this whole situation is. I take care of most of her expenses, visit her every day, and she still stays at my place at least once a week. She’s a happy kid. For now, anyway.”
“You’re doing a great job at providing her with a stable and loving home, Cal. And I’m proud of you for that.” She strokes my arm affectionately and squeezes my wrist. I’d forgotten how touchy she’s always been, and one of her crushing hugs right now would be more than welcomed.
“I’m scared of fucking up,” I confess. She’s a mother, so I know she understands. “Maybe not now, but when she’s older. I don’t want her growing up hating her dad, our mother, or me.”
“I assure you she won’t.” She holds my hands tightly between her own and gives them another squeeze. “She’ll grow up to be a bright, beautiful lady and she’ll only love you more when she finds out everything you’re doing for her. Your mother will get better one day, too. I’m sure of it.”
I want to believe her. I really do, with all my heart, but it gets more difficult every day.
“You’re a good man, and you’re doing so well for yourself. Look around.” She gestures to the shop. “I’m sure the ladies are lining up to snatch you away.”
That manages to get a sincere snort out of me. “I’m out of the market, I fear.”
“Oh? Met anyone special?” She wiggles her eyebrows.
I shake my head, smiling. “It’s complicated. I’ll tell you about it later.”
“Promise, or I’ll team up with Trey to tattoo a penis right in the middle of that forehead.”
I burst out laughing. “Ah, I missed you, Sophia.”
Smiling, I pull her into a hug. “I missed your secretive ass, too.”
Shaking my head with laughter, I say, “I promise I’ll tell you later. Believe it or not, a penis on my forehead doesn’t sound too appealing right now.”
She chuckles, and an invisible pull forces me to turn my head. Right there on the other side of the door, is Grace.
I’m about to let go of Sophia and wave at her, tell her to come in, anything. But she sucks in a breath, face falling, and leaves.
“Hey, you okay?” Sophia asks, noticing how tense my whole body has turned. My eyes are glued to the outside of the shop, wondering if I’ve imagined it all. “Cal?”
“Sorry. I just… I saw a friend.”
Sophia turns her head towards the street. “Like… a special friend? Because you look pale as shit right now, honey.”
“Something like that.” I swallow. “Hey, do you mind if I send a text real quick?”
She gives me a knowing smile. “Don’t worry about me, I need to leave for the hotel anyway. Go talk to this friend.”
With a wave goodbye and a “See you in a few hours” she exits the shop and I pull my phone out of my back pocket before she even closes the door behind her. There’s a nagging feeling in my chest that barely lets me breathe.
Me: Were you at the front of the parlor just now?
She doesn’t answer right away. Not like I expected her to. If you asked me to capture her face the moment our eyes met, I’d know exactly what emotions to translate to the paper—confusion, sadness, anger. But I don’t understand why she would feel any of them.
Is it possible that she thinks…? Surely not. She can’t possibly believe I’m involved with Soph… Right?
I try to picture how it would’ve looked from the outside. A man and a woman laughing and hugging shouldn’t raise any alarms, yet I’m sure that’s what it did in Grace’s mind.
Is she mad at me because she thinks I have a girlfriend and I didn’t tell her? Or is it something else?
My head is about to fucking explode when she finally texts back twenty minutes later.
Grace: Yeah. I wanted to talk to you but you were busy.
And now I’m overthinking the tone of her message. It’s just a text, for fuck’s sake. There’s no way I can tell her mood through it.
Me: I have an appointment in 5, but we can grab lunch together?
Grace: I have plans. Maybe another time.
Yeah, she’s pissed. That much is fucking obvious.
If she were any other woman, I would tell her to piss off and move on with my life. I don’t do drama. Yet I can’t bring myself to throw in the towel when it comes to Grace. If she’s hurt, I want to take her pain away and reassure her that everything is fine. I’m not lying to her nor am I seeing anyone behind her back.
Not when she’s the only one in my mind.
And if it takes begging and chasing for her to understand, then I fucking will.
