Epilogue
EPILOGUE
brYCE
THREE MONTHS LATER
“Are you nervous?” Daisy asks, twisting in my arms, her pretty blue eyes locking with mine.
I pepper kisses along her hairline. “No.”
“Good. Everyone is so proud of you.”
“Including you?” I fish for her approval.
She reads right through me. “Oh, honey, I’m the proudest of all. Don’t slot me in with everyone else.”
“So sassy today,” I coo, tapping the underside of her chin before guiding it back and swooping in for a kiss.
Her eyes twinkle when she pulls away. “You’re rubbing off on me.”
“Better me than anyone else.”
“So possessive today,” she pokes, echoing my tone.
“Fucking right I am.”
Her giggle is music to my ears as I look around the studio and take in the familiar faces filling it.
Into The Shade has always been a safe space for me. But now, it’s more than that. Starting today, it’s my new home away from home. I’ll be working here until I can save enough to open a shop of my own in Cherry Peak. The station beside Shade’s is mine, and the small sign above it glowing in yellow will one day be ten times bigger in size and hung outside of my tattoo shop.
Love Codes.
A reminder that I’m no longer afraid to chase my dreams.
Every one of our friends is here today to celebrate. Brody and Anna, Johnny and Rory, and Poppy and Garrison. Darren and Delaney are here too—not together, of course, which is something Poppy spent a solid hour complaining about this morning. She’s taken it upon herself to try and play matchmaker, and I haven’t had it in me to tell her it’s a lost cause.
Originally, I didn’t want to make a big deal out of this day, but Daisy had everyone hyped before I got the chance to tell them it wasn’t necessary. Poppy’s even been staying at the guest house on Steele Ranch with Garrison all week under the pretense of helping finish all of the preparations.
There’s been a lot of these moments over the last three months. Poppy’s been here more recently in the past few months than in the year prior, and I’ve spent enough time in Calgary not to need my maps app to get to her house and Beautifully Bold anymore.
“You’ll have a sore hand by the time we go home tonight,” Daisy murmurs, staring past our friends and to those who’ve come for the flash tattoo sale Shade suggested we hold.
Flash tattoos aren’t my favourite, nor are they Shade’s, but fucking hell, the guy has done so much to help me with this new job that I couldn’t turn down another one of his attempts to bring more traffic into the shop.
I bring my mouth to Daisy’s cheek and linger there. “If my hand’s out of commission, I guess you’ll just have to ride my face, then.”
Heat presses to my mouth as her cheeks blaze. She rolls her eyes at me.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“No, Sunshine. I’m happy.”
Her features soften immediately. “I love you. ”
“Awe, I love you too, little devil,” Shade purrs, appearing out of nowhere to plant a fat, wet kiss on her forehead.
I shove him off and away from my girlfriend. “Go kiss someone else, asshole.”
His grin could blind someone. “Who are you calling an asshole, asshole?”
“Ooh, I love this game. Can I be an asshole too?” Poppy asks, kissing the back of my head.
Garrison slides up to her side and pulls her against him. “What’s with all the goddamn kissing?”
“Shade started it,” Daisy says.
The man himself stares at her like he’s never seen her before. “Oh, how quickly you throw me under the bus, little devil.”
“I still don’t get why you call her that. Daisy is an angel,” Poppy sings, winking at Daisy.
Garrison’s always been overprotective of Poppy, so I ignore him when he glares at Shade so fiercely it’s like he’s trying to make him poof into a cloud of dust.
It isn’t the first time my friends are meeting Shade. With some encouragement from Daisy, I introduced them a couple of months ago. Once I got it into my thick skull that they weren’t going to steal him from me, it was easier to let it happen.
Poppy was upset at first that I’d kept him a secret, but she got over it quickly. Everyone else was just excited to have another person join the group.
“See, Shade? I’m an angel,” Daisy taunts, batting her lashes.
I know better than that. She might look like an angel, but she’s got a devilish streak that would shock everyone. I’m a lucky bitch to get to see that side of her so often.
The bell above the door dings, and I look toward it on habit. My skin turns cold as if I’m out in the frigid January air when my mother steps inside and shakes the snow from her heavy coat. Her eyes are wary as she examines the space, but even as I wait for judgment to fill them, they stay cautious .
“What are you looking—oh,” Daisy mumbles, stroking a reassuring hand down my arm. “Did you invite her?”
“No.”
“Do you want to speak with her?” Poppy asks, noticing my divided attention.
“I should.”
We haven’t spoken since the day I quit and told her that I would be pursuing tattooing. She’s called a few times over the last few months, but it’s been Dad who I’ve spoken with instead. It’s always been easier to talk to him, and with my disaster of a relationship with Mom, he’s all I have left. I guess I latched onto him and the opposite approach to parenting he’s always taken.
He isn’t perfect, but I’ve never felt judged or pressured with him. His quiet understanding is what I’d been needing for a long time, even if I doubt he has or ever will stand up to Mom.
“I’ll come with you,” Daisy offers, already interlocking our fingers.
“We’ll be back, then,” I tell no one in particular.
Poppy catches my words and touches my shoulder before Daisy guides me away from the group and toward where my mom is hovering awkwardly by the reception desk.
The wall of Shade’s favourite pieces falls prey to her stare, and I’m suddenly on edge, unsure if she’ll recognize which are on my body.
“Mrs. Lemieux,” Daisy says, taking the lead without hesitation. “How are you?”
My heart swells with the strength of my love for her, somehow still growing as the days pass.
My mother turns to face us. The emotion that ripples across her face startles me.
“I’m good, Daisy.”
I swallow and offer a stiff smile. “I wasn’t expecting you here, Mom.”
“Oh . . . Yes, I know.” She fidgets with the rings on her fingers, and I feel guilty when the fluorescent lights highlight the bags beneath her eyes. “I just wanted to come see this place. See you.”
I don’t know what to say, so I say nothing.
Daisy rubs the back of my hand with her thumb. “Well, what do you think?”
“It is very busy. And the artwork on the walls is special.”
“Do you recognize any of the pieces? Shade, the owner of Into The Shade, did all of them. But soon, Bryce’s work will be up there too. If I have anything to do with it, at least.”
Mom turns back to the wall and the frames, staring intently at each one. She points to one with a perfectly manicured fingernail.
“That one is my Bryce.”
Surprised, I focus on the piece she’s pointed out. It’s one I usually forget I have. A neck of a guitar that’s been smashed on one end. It’s small, hardly three inches long, and fits into the collection of random art on my right bicep.
“And that one,” she adds, spine straight with pride.
It’s the snowflake Shade put behind my ear four years ago.
“How did you know that?” I ask.
She smiles sadly. “That is your ear.”
My chest feels too tight. I grip Daisy’s hand and stare at my mother, seeing too much of her heart exposed for the first time in years.
Daisy moves forward and starts gesturing to the rest of the frames that my body is featured in, explaining what the designs are and the meanings of some of the harder-to-understand ones. The woman who raised me, the same one who didn’t show a single ounce of care about my passion for art, listens intently to my girlfriend, as if she genuinely wants to learn everything.
I don’t know what to make of that. It feels sudden, but in reality, it’s been three months. Could she actually have spent that time trying to better herself?
“That one is my favourite,” she declares .
I look to the end of the pointed finger, and a slight smile curls my lips.
“It’s mine too,” I tell her.
My forearm is already exposed as I offer it to her and wait for her eyes to fall on the tattoo. It healed perfectly and is, without a doubt, my most popular piece. I’ve caught myself staring at it more times than I can count.
“ Un champ de marguerites ,” she whispers before glancing up at my girlfriend. “A field of daisies.”
The translation she offers shocks me more than the warmth in her tone.
A sheen moves over her eyes as she keeps them on Daisy. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
Instead of answering the question, Mom focuses on me. “Will you come over for supper next week? Both of you.”
“Will Dad be there too?” I ask, rubbing my palm over my sternum. We’ve talked, but I don’t think our relationship will ever be anything special, as sad as that was to admit to myself.
“Yes, yes, he can be. He will be. And there will be no fish.”
Daisy giggles near silently beside me, and I pull our hands up to replace the one I was using to rub my chest.
“Okay. We can come,” I say.
Mom sucks in a relieved breath and clasps her hands. “I will call you with details?”
“Sure.”
“For now, could you show me more of this place? I would like to meet this Shade.”
I don’t know if I can take any more surprises. My head swims with the effects of her genuine efforts. Yet, my heart is fuller than ever.
Daisy leans into my side and watches me and my mother with pride and relief. Like she’s been hoping for something like this to happen just as much as I was.
It’s too early to let bygones be bygones, but the effort is there, at least for today. That seems to be good enough for me right now.
With my girlfriend beside me, I take another look around the studio and ignore the burn behind my eyes. There’s so much light in my life, and somehow, it grows brighter every fucking day.
I have Daisy to thank for helping me see it.
“Yeah, Mom. I think it’s time you properly met my family.”