of my eye, Jeff popped up from his drawing.
“Mags, can I do it?” The shock mixing with excitement in Jeff’s face was contagious to me. I anxiously locked eyes with Jeff, not knowing if I was about to cry or laugh. Every type of emotion was running through my body. “That would be amazing, as long as Walker’s okay with it, of course!”
Walker smiled at me, walking over to wrap his arms around my waist. “I wouldn’t want anyone else to touch you.” His eyes had a lustful undertone that was all too intriguing, but I chose to ignore it and let my mind wander to my thrilled, scared heart, thumping with anticipation. He pulled me in a little tighter and breathed. “I’ll get mine done next time.” Turning to look at Jeff from over his shoulder, Walker’s voice got playfully stern. “I’m trusting you, man! Don’t fuck up!”
It was a little odd how touchy Walker had been these past few hours with me, but I couldn’t deny how comforting it was. I missed the companionship of my husband so much it physically hurt. Right now, that pain was subsiding, just enough to almost bring warmth back into my body. I gave Walker’s middle a quick squeeze then trotted over to the drawing table to tell Jeff the idea for my tattoo. Jeff scrolled through a few pictures of the seabird with me until I found one I loved, and he went to work drawing it onto transfer paper.
Before I could realize what was going on, I was lying on my side, my shorts undone, with Jeff putting the stencil on my hip. I got up gingerly, making sure my shorts didn’t fall off or mess up the outline, to go make sure I liked the almost-tattoo in the mirror. The bird looked like it was flying right off my hip bone. It was a little bigger than I was expecting, but stunning. I could not have imagined it any more perfect. Tears welled up in my eyes, full of all kinds of emotions, some I couldn’t even identify at the moment.
Walker and Mitch both gave Jeff a pat on the back and expressed their approval of the image. Mitch wrapped me up in one of his amazing bear hugs. “Mags, I’m shocked and proud. Sit like a champ. It’s going to be beautiful.” With that, Mitch sat on Pete’s chair to get his work done, and Walker pulled a chair up next to the cushioned table I’d be lying on, to offer a hand to squeeze for moral support. I got back down onto my side, bracing for the pain, and Walker settled into a comfortable position, taking both my hands into his. Mitch was in the seat behind me chatting away with Pete about life since their last session. This reminded me of my therapy sessions with Dr. Davenport while listening to Mitch talk. It was so clear to me that coming to the shop was where the guys came for their type of therapy. I go to a shrink; they get ink jammed into their skin.
Jeff asked me if I was ready, handing me a lollipop to suck on so I didn’t bite my tongue. I nodded once, closed my eyes, and took in a deep breath. Without warning, the stinging sensation of the needle driving into my skin was intense. Chills and adrenaline started to cover my body as I squeezed Walker’s hands. Walker and Jeff talked, trying to include me into their conversation. My voice was trembling, and concentrating on anything other than keeping my body from shaking uncontrollably was out of the question. I couldn’t talk to them, I just had to let my mind go blank, blocking out everything, including the pain. I had gotten so good at blocking out my emotions that it was pretty easy for me. I just shut my eyes and concentrated on Walker’s hands grasped around mine, with his thumb slowly drawing circles on my overly sensitive skin. I stayed in that almost trance for the rest of my session, allowing myself to just be at peace and in the moment for the first time in ages.
Suddenly, the pain stopped and I realized the buzzing noise from the gun had ceased. I looked over to see Pete and Mitch hovering over me, and Jeff getting up to stretch his back out. Walker’s face turned quickly into excitement as his eyes flicked from mine to my hip. “Wow, Jeff, sick work! Mags, you’ve got a masterpiece on your side.” Walker helped me off the table and guided me to the full-length mirror to see my sooty tern in flight. I gasped and thanked Jeff profusely as a wave of emotion flooded my eyes, hot tears streaming down my face. I couldn’t help but feel like Randy was here and his grip on my sorrow was starting to release. I felt like this was a little piece of him that was never going to go away and that was all he needed to be at peace.
After going over the aftercare instructions with Jeff, and watching Mitch’s pin-up girl gain color, we headed back to my house. Mitch declined my offer for beer and food, claiming he had too much fun for one day. Walker, of course, could never turn down grub and booze, happily following me up the front steps after hugging his little brother goodbye. I always thought it was so wonderful how much they cared about each other, and were never shy about expressing it, especially after Randy’s death. When I asked Walker about it a while back, he just explained that he never wanted to miss another opportunity for his friends to know how much he truly loved and cared about them.
“Want me to order the food?” Walker’s sly grin crept up as he saw my hand rubbing my hip, not realizing he even asked me a question. “Mags? You okay?”
I slammed my eyes shut, quickly taking in a sharp breath, the burning wave of angry skin screaming to be rid of its permanent paint was incredibly discomforting, but tried to smile. “Yeah, why?”
He started to make his way to the kitchen. “Give me a second. I’ll make you feel better.” He came back into the living room, sitting on the couch with a cup of ice, hand soap, and paper towels. “Mags, come lie down,” He patted the cushion next to him as his gaze dipped to my tender hip bone, “I’m going to help that stinging stop.”
I did as instructed, unzipping my shorts and pulling up my shirt to expose the black bandage covering my raw inked skin. Walker was an absolute gentleman, to my surprise. It was not in Walker’s normal character to be good when a girl was half naked lying down in front of him. He removed the bandage and rubbed the cold ice on my angry skin to help the stinging cease, and the swelling to go down, then washed it and patted my tattooed side dry. I moaned with relief and I could see the lustful desire in his eyes while he listened to my groans of pleasure, but he never made an advance.
“There.” He looked down at me, thirst consuming in his eyes as his tongue traveled slowly over his lower lip. “Is that better?” I sat up and nodded, thankfully. “That is so much better.”
I fixed my clothes and ordered a large pie, well done pie with pepperonis and black olives from my favorite Italian place just up the street. Walker grabbed both of us beers from the fridge and pulled me into his side to cuddle on the couch. I relaxed into his warm, strong body, wondering what would have happened just then if I hadn’t been his late best friend’s widow. My mind played out the seductive scene the ice would have brought on, and I felt my entire body shiver with desire. Just when my imagination started to run with the ideas, and my body acted to betray the platonic-only line Walker and I had, the doorbell was rung by the pizza delivery guy.
8
The darkness of night still blanketed the room when I was slowly awoken by the shallow breaths of someone lying next to me. My eyes shot open like a puppet as my mind raced to understand what was happening. I felt feverishly over my body, realizing I was completely naked. Jumping out of bed, I turned the light on my nightstand on as fast as I could. Huffing in my exertion, terror coursed through my body as Walker groggily pulled his head off the pillow groaning, “Babe, come back to bed and turn that damn light off.” I stood, paralyzed, holding my naked body in the middle of my floor, shivering. It took a few seconds, but I finally was able to form words for my anger and confusion. “Walker? What the fuck…”
The faint sound of buzzing started to bring me into the reality of the morning, waking up alone in my bed to daylight. The annoying buzzing continued while I looked around my empty bed, making sure I had just been having a terrible dream before. My cell flopped off my comforter in my fit of craziness, right into my lap. I sighed when I saw through slotted eyes the title of 'mother' glaring at me. Unwillingly, I answered the call.
“Yeah.” That was all I could muster. I hadn’t spoken to my mother since our fight and was still really pissed at her. Childish in its own way, but I felt like I deserved to hold onto this one.
“Honey?” My mom’s voice was sharp; a hint of worry laced the tone.
“Yeah, Mom?” I was not in the mood to chat, especially not with her, and I hoped my voice did a good job of expressing my aggravation.
“It’s just you’ve not been responding and I wanted to make sure you had enough groceries and that I didn’t need to send the maid again.”
“Mom, I told you I need my space. I’m a big girl. I can feed myself and clean my home. Please leave me alone.”
“Okay, sorry for loving you.” Her martyr attitude irked me and I hung up without dignifying it with a
