Walker nodded at me. “Yeah, let’s get this sucker finished.”
Taking his seat, Jeff smiled and got back to work without another word, concentrating on color combinations and making sure the water and compass blended in seamlessly to the boat and fish. I glanced over a few times to see the masterpiece, starting to become amazing. “Babe, it’s awesome!” I squealed.
Curiosity took over and I had to ask Jeff. “Where is everyone? I’ve never seen the shop empty before.” It was odd to me that we were the only ones in the shop that night; every station empty, not even the burly owner was there.
“Well, I actually bought the shop last week and am going to keep the shop closed on Sundays.” Jeff seemed so stoked about his newfound status as owner-artist-operator, and I could not have been more thrilled for him.
“That's wonderful! You’ve wanted to open your own shop since I can remember.
Congratulations!” Walker smiled at my enthusiasm, flinching a little when the white started to go in for the finishing touches.
Jeff stopped for a second to shake out his hand. “Yeah, I’m going to use Sundays to tattoo my friends and shit, and give the guys a night off. They bust their balls all week, and if they’re not careful they’re gonna get fucking arthritis and ruin their careers. No amount of money is worth me losing one of my best guys from overworking them.”
I nodded my head in approval of Jeff’s decision. The notion of him truly caring for his staff was comforting, and I was glad someone that kind-hearted had finally caught a break and started to follow his dream.
Next thing we knew, Walker’s ink session was finished and he was checking out his new piece in the mirror. “Jeff, it’s perfect! Mags, come take a look.”
I bent down to get a good look at his freshly tattooed shin. The water was deep blue and rolling under the boat, splashing up over the fish breaching, and then crashing into rocks where a compass lay on its side.
Then, I saw it, a mistake and I gasped. “Wait, Jeff!” He looked down where I was pointing, obviously not seeing what I was. “Jeff! That’s an M! Not an N for north!”
He looked down at me like I was a crazy person, and then shot a swift look over to
Walker before speaking. “Yeah, that’s what he wanted, and now that you guys are together, it makes sense why he changed the design of it.”
I gaped at Walker, hoping he would say something, but he just stood there, staring at the floor, digging his hands in his packets. “Well, Walker, explain this right fucking now or I am leaving your ass here and you can Goddamn walk home!”
I was furious and confused and panicking. Walker jumped up off the table, and wrapped his arms around me, drawling charmingly in my ear, “Please, don’t be mad babe. But, Mags …” his eyes were pleading as he pulled away just enough so I could look at him, still scathing mad. “You’re my true north. No compass would point me in any other direction but to you.”
My mouth fell open and my throat went dry as tears started to well up in my eyes. I did not know how I felt about the tattoo, but I knew Walker’s words dripped with sincerity and that they were some of the most beautiful words I had ever heard. I pulled his shirt, making him get as close to me as possible and then hugged him tightly.
Walker kissed my hair, breathing softly. “I’m sorry, Mags. I should have told you.”
I nodded into his chest. “Yeah, you should have told me. That was shocking. But you’re cute. You know that?”
From the background, I heard Jeff’s nervous chuckle. “Uh, should I leave you two alone or something?”
I broke from Walker’s arms and wiped my face off with both hands. “No, Jeff, it’s all good. I’m going to get this big oaf home.”
I winked at Jeff and his nerves melted into a warm smile. “Alright, catch you guys later. Mags, when you’re ready for the next tat, remember Sundays are always open for ya.”
I hugged Jeff goodbye. “Thank you, but I think it is going to be a while before I gather up enough courage to endure that again.”
“Oh come on, you sat like a pro! You’ll want another, sooner than you want to admit.”
All I could do was smile shyly and give him a quick wave before I was out the door. Damp, sticky warm engulfed my body as I stepped out into a light rainstorm. I hated the smell of hot, wet asphalt, and it made me scrunch my nose while I unlocked the car and slid into the driver’s seat. Walker got in right after me and nervously stared at his feet, rubbing his palms together, “So are you really not mad, or were you just putting on a show in front of Jeff?”
I could hear the distress in Walker’s voice and I sat and thought about his question for a moment. I wanted to be furious that he did something like that and didn’t even warn me first, but the meaning behind it touched me so deeply, there was no way I could ever be mad at him for it. Finally, I broke the awkward silence, shifting to look directly into Walker’s hopeful eyes. “No, I’m not mad. Next time you are going to mark your body with something that involves me, let’s at least talk about it first so I don’t get blindsided.”
Walker took my hand in his and promised, and that was all I needed to hear. I melted into the thought of how much Walker really cared about me, and my heart felt lighter than it had in months, and heavier all at the same time.
Once we were home, Walker and I drank a beer, and cuddled up together in bed after I rubbed his new tattoo with ice and washed it for him just like he had done for me not too long before. I fell asleep cradled in his arms, content and happy with our situation and how well everything was finally starting to fall together.
21
The next few days droned on. Since my office was not going to be ready before Wednesday, I decided to start working Monday morning, bright and early, from home. I could have waited, but I was already going to be behind enough as it was, and I knew I needed to step up. My boss and co-workers had been so understanding with me in the wake of Randy’s death and never pushed me to go the extra mile, or even show up some days, always picking up my slack. I felt like they deserved for me to be a team player again.
I think some of it came from needing to get back into the groove of normalcy in some way. Walker’s new tattoo really started to drive the point home that my life was changing, mostly in wonderful ways, but I was never good with change and work was always my constant. I forced myself to get out of bed and dressed for a normal workday, leaving Walker fast asleep as I went to take a shower.
I made a pot of coffee, grabbed my work laptop and started to sift through all of my emails. And that was where I pretty much stayed for the better part of two days. There was a mountain of messages to sift through, tons of calls to make, and too many asses to kiss for me not to feel sick by the end of the day on Tuesday. I had started to look forward to my sessions with Dr. Davenport more and more as they went on.
I was proud of the progress I had been making. Even though I gave most of the credit to myself, I knew the jolt to kick-start all of my newfound confidence, happiness, and ability to cope with my loss, was all in the hands of my pint-sized shrink.
I sat in the freezing waiting room, damning myself for not bringing a jacket with me; finally entertained by a light-hearted romance novel I had shoved in my bag right before I left Liz and Jim’s. It was one that Liz had just finished reading with her new book club and I figured I would give it a try. I was taken off guard that a group of retired women were reading a smutty, new adult novel about a girl who moved half way across the country to run away from her past that ended up following her anyway, but I guess you could never get too old for a great read.
I was enthralled by the main character’s description of her new love interest’s handsome build when an obnoxiously loud bang came from within Candice’s office. I shrilled and bolted for the door while the girl in the reception window cried out to me to not go in. I heard her talking to a dispatch operator, saying there was a gunshot in their office and to send police right away.
Once those words registered, I flung the door open without giving it a second thought. To my horror I had just opened the door onto one of the most gruesome sights I had ever had the misfortune of witnessing.
