Chapter 6 Mum’s Competitive Streak #2
I didn’t open my eyes. “You smoke?”
“No.”
“Here I thought you were a bad boy.”
The distraught expression from inside had already faded.
Only a few inches shorter than me, he must have been a decade younger.
I studied the side of his face as he fixated on the green.
The yellow light reflected in his eye, and I had to look away, fearful he’d think I was staring.
Instead, I continued stealing glances at that furry face, willing to risk being caught.
“Speaking of bad boys,” he said, “how many tattoos do you have?”
“Bad boy?” I scoffed. “I’m an art aficionado.”
“And skilled at dodging questions.”
He wasn’t wrong. The moment I crossed the bridge into Firefly, I prepared my defenses.
In my head, I imagined myself clad in armor, ready to deflect every jab from the locals.
If it were them asking questions, I’d have let it slip into the silence.
When a handsome man asks, I’ll admit, I might have removed my helmet.
“I’ve had thirty-two sittings.”
“Huh?”
Without thinking, I lifted my t-shirt. Across my stomach, angels and demons waged a battle between good and evil. If I raised the back, he’d find it transitioned into Roman statues. At this point, I had more artwork than bare skin.
“At a certain point, it’s hard to say how many tats you have.”
His hand reached up as if he were going to check for texture.
Nick froze, a look of horror crossing his face.
With lightning speed, his hands shoved into his pockets.
I wouldn’t have objected. He could trace the turbulent clouds above purgatory until he reached the demons clawing their way up from hell.
I kept the thought to myself.
“What about you?”
“Tattoos?” He shook his head. “I get queasy when I give blood.”
“Stop by the shop sometime. I’ve been told I’ve got a magic touch.”
The shop that no longer existed. It’d take a while before reality set in. He didn’t need to know my drama.
It did make me wonder how long before I returned and started interviewing at parlors again.
I always hated tattooing while somebody stood over my shoulder.
My time in Firefly didn’t have an expiration date.
Would it be when Mum’s foot got better? Or would I be here for the long haul?
The shop lined up perfectly with Mum’s hospital trip.
She didn’t need to know what had happened.
I already felt guilty being away for so long.
No matter how I parsed it, I felt an overwhelming amount of guilt.
I shook the thought from my head and focused on the cute cub. “Maybe a tribal armband?”
“Yeah?” I’d mock him if not for the tribal bands hugging each of my biceps.
“Oh yeah,” he said. “Then I’d frost my tips.”
When he turned, his face remained neutral, and I couldn’t tell if he was joking. We entered a standoff, holding out until the edge of his lip pulled up.
“You’d have let me.” He gave me an elbow to the side.
I shrugged. “Who am I to judge?” I had to snort. “It’s not like you were asking for a tribal sun tramp stamp.”
“There goes my second tattoo!”
He threw his arms up as if I had ruined his attempt at bad decisions.
Since arriving, Nick had been the only person who simply existed without a need to draw connections.
He hadn’t asked about growing up in Firefly.
He didn’t know the history, and so far, our interactions had remained in the present.
I appreciated being seen as I am, and not who I was or who I might be.
I threatened the dynamic.
“Are you okay?”
I watched as his shoulders slumped and he leaned against the wall.
I didn’t offer clarification or insight.
My job involved reading body language, and his had thrown up red flags.
Under the laughter, Nick’s voice held a tinge of sadness.
I had grown used to being the intimidating one in the room, a situation only made worse by keeping my thoughts to myself.
The world could think of me as a dick. I didn’t want Nick to assume the same.
“I’ll be okay.”
Neither of us believed those three words. I had opened the door, but I wouldn’t shove him through. Only he could make that decision.
“I need to know. How did you meet Lacie?”
He turned, a shoulder pressed against the Legion. When his head cocked to the side, I could feel the glare burning a hole in the side of my head.
“That’s it?”
“What?” I asked.
“No follow-ups? No pushing?”
I rolled to my side, our bellies dangerously close to touching.
Did Nick ask because he expected it from the residents of Firefly?
Or is that how Lacie would have handled the situation?
I suspected it was her. I understood why she fit in.
With no boundaries, she’d be the perfect addition to the Quilting Guild, book clubs, and the PTA.
I chose my words carefully. “You’ll talk when you’re ready.” Not if. When.
Silence. Nick’s eyes reflected the yellow streetlights, unblinking as he digested the words. As we both inhaled, our stomachs touched, but pulled away. He held his breath as he chewed his bottom lip.
I tensed as he leaned in, pressing his mouth against mine.
It could have been awkward, a chance kiss outside of a raging Bingo game.
It could have been… but it wasn’t. I could smell the coconut in his beard as I parted my lips, dragging the tip of my tongue against his.
The timid version of Nick faded as he proved himself a fantastic kisser.
When he bunched my t-shirt between his fingers, holding me in place, I realized he needed this.
I needed this to ground me and push aside this lost feeling.
The door to the Legion opened, and the sound of grumbling patrons came spilling out.
As quickly as it started, we parted, returning to our backs against the wall.
I flattened out the front of my shirt, trying to remove the wrinkles as if they’d give away our exchange.
I smirked. Coconut. It didn’t fade as the creases faded.
Before I could crack a joke, Lacie’s head popped out behind the door.
“Nick!” Her enthusiasm didn’t have an off switch. “They’re having a baked bean dinner in a couple of days. We are so going.”
I’m sure it was another charity event to raise money for flower beds or college scholarships. They were Firefly’s socialism cleverly hidden behind baked goods. Mum never attended, but she always supplied a dish for the event.
“Hurry,” she said. “They’re about to start another round.”
Her eyebrow crept up her forehead as she eyed me. I gave her a slight wave. “Evening, Lacie.” She had suspicion written all over her face. She vanished back inside.
“I should make sure she behaves.”
“I’m not sure there’s an army big enough for that.”
He chuckled. “Facts.”
He offered a sheepish grin and a wave before reaching the door.
His face remained neutral, except for the corner of the upturned lip.
I’d take the victory. We had shared a moment, and I hoped it did something to shake loose whatever plagued him.
For a split second, I had forgotten about Boston, the parlor, or figuring out my place in the world. All I could think about was coconut.
When the door closed, the noise returned to a dull roar.
I was left staring across the green. A quick trip for the gremlins would do me good.
Alone with my thoughts in the wilds of Maine, perhaps I’d find the peace I craved.
No people, no gossip, no boundaries, just me, a sleeping bag, and the cackle of a campfire.
Though as I licked my lips, I couldn’t hide the smirk. I wouldn’t object to a certain flatlander tagging along. Trading stories over the fire, feeling the freedom of insignificance as we watched the stars in the sky, it wouldn’t make for a bad excursion.
If only.