Chapter 10
WAYLON
It’s hard to say if sleeping with Lyric was a good idea or a bad one.
Well, it was a very good idea in the moment.
And this morning, my coffee tasted pretty fucking good.
And so far at work, it’s been a breeze of a day.
Of course, that could be because it’s my turn to cover Saturday, and I’m leaving earlier than I normally would, which means my weekend isn’t totally shot.
All of these reasons leave me to believe it was a good idea. I have a theory that when you fuck, all these sex hormones get released and sort of cling to you like a fog. A feel-good fog, if you will. And this feel-good fog made of sex debris makes everything better.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, so I set down my pencil and have a look at what I’ve been sketching. It’s for a longtime client who wants to extend a piece on his thigh all the way down his leg. He’s really into Norse mythology and Viking elements, so I’m working in some runes in the background.
I pull my cell from my pocket.
RIDGE
Darcy just took Lou to the store, so we have a block of time.
LYRIC
I’m free. I’m just sitting on the couch with Tater.
Ugh. I’m so jealous.
ME
I’m at work but I don’t have anyone in my chair. What’s up?
RIDGE
When can you guys throw the party?
ME
I don’t know. Is this weekend too soon?
LYRIC
I don’t have anything major this week. I have time. This weekend would be perfect.
RIDGE
Ok, this weekend it is. Try to send an invite this evening so nothing gets in the way.
ME
Got it. So a text to the group is sufficient, right?
LYRIC
The boy group chat?
RIDGE
Who calls it the boy group chat?
LYRIC
Me and Darcy.
RIDGE
It’s just the work group chat.
LYRIC
Are there any girls in it?
RIDGE
No.
LYRIC
Then it’s the boy group chat.
ME
Can we focus?
I’m so over group chats at this point. I’m too old for this.
RIDGE
Well, should we make a group chat with the girls in it?
LYRIC
YES
ME
ANOTHER group chat? Are you kidding me?
LYRIC
What’s the matter, cowboy?
RIDGE
He doesn’t like group chats.
LYRIC
Oh, then we should definitely make another one.
RIDGE
And it has to be you who creates it because you’re throwing the party.
I am starting to regret offering to help with this. I roll my eyes as I punch a bunch of keys on the screen, adding everyone to the chat, and then I type in my message.
ME
Everybody bear with me. This seemed easier than sending multiple texts. I’m throwing a party a week from today. My place next Saturday. Come around six, I’ll be smoking meat. I’ll have the bar cart stocked. Feel free to bring dates or whatever.
There’s a notification before anyone replies: Lyric has changed the name of the group to Family of Misfits. I smile because I like it.
DARCY
Oh, I like the name.
BANKS
It’s fine, I guess.
KILLIAN
I like it too.
RIDGE
I think it’s good.
BANKS
Fine, it’s good. Can we move on? I’ll be at the party. I might bring someone.
KILLIAN
Don’t mind him. He’s got his panties in a twist over a girl.
BANKS
I do not.
KILLIAN
Anyway, I probably will not be bringing anyone.
BANKS
What about that cute neighbor of yours?
KILLIAN
I’m pretty sure she’s with someone. And pregnant.
RIDGE
Can Lou come?
LYRIC
Who’s pregnant?
I scratch the back of my neck, irritation settling into my skin. My phone keeps buzzing over and over again. More messages. This is why I can’t stand group chats. Either way, my obligation is fulfilled. I can just ignore it now. Except I can’t because I want to know about the pregnant girl.
LYRIC
Of course Lou can come.
ME
Yeah, duh.
KILLIAN
My neighbor. I sort of have a thing for her. Or HAD, I guess. I think she’s with someone. And possibly pregnant.
ME
Why do you think she might be pregnant?
KILLIAN
She was eating saltines at eight in the morning.
RIDGE
Oh yeah. She’s definitely pregnant.
I feel for Killian. He’s not much of a talker, but he did tell me about her.
I can’t remember her name. Started with a C, I think—Carmen or something?
Anyway, for a guy who’s pretty stoic, he sure became animated when he mentioned her.
It felt like a big deal. So yeah, I feel for him.
It’s just another reason I’m not ready to fall in love.
I know that when I do, I’ll be hopelessly devoted.
I’ll want to give them everything, and I will because they’ll deserve it.
That’s the kind of love I want. Eventually.
You do give up some freedoms for love. And I’m not saying that’s a bad thing.
You gain something in return. But still, you do lose something. I’m not ready to give that up just yet.
The thing is, when I look at Killian, he looks like he’s ready to make that trade-off. I thought she might even be the one he did it for. But he didn’t make his move in time.
An image of Lyric pops into my mind. Her expression when she was sitting in the bathtub.
The pain that had creased her features eased and her entire face softened.
The relief she felt made me feel good. I didn’t like seeing her the way she was, in so much pain.
I’m not a woman and I’m not going to pretend I know what that pain is like.
But Lyric also has a fair amount of tattoos, and anyone who gets stabbed repeatedly for fun probably has a high tolerance. So I believe her when she says it hurts. Hell, I’d believe her without that rationale. A woman’s pain should never need further explanation.
I turn my attention back to the group chat, which has been buzzing the entire time.
BANKS
Okay, I’m definitely bringing someone. She’s just a friend.
RIDGE
That means you like her, but she doesn’t like you.
BANKS
How does it mean that?
DARCY
Well, that is what you said about that one girl last year.
RIDGE
Right, you liked her, but she just wanted to be friends, so you suffered through that while liking her the entire time.
BANKS
It’s not like that.
LYRIC
I might bring my co-worker, Philip.
Who the fuck is Philip? I don’t type that, though. I need to be cool. I shouldn’t care anyway. Except we definitely just had sex. Maybe I should have been more clear that if we’re going to be fuck buddies, it should be exclusive. If we start seeing other people, we can’t have sex anymore.
Yes, I’ll talk to her about it when I see her. No need to bring it up over text. That doesn’t seem appropriate.
Whatever. I shouldn’t even be worried about it. Fine, bring Philip. I should really turn my attention to this party I’m throwing. Technically, it’s going to be Ridge and Darcy’s engagement party; most people just don’t know that yet. So I should keep them in mind when planning.
I need to talk to Lyric about that too. As my roommate, I guess we’re technically co-hosting. I’ll need her involved to pull this off. Maybe I can ask her who Philip is. No, no. None of that.
I spend another half hour on my Viking sketch for my client, then put it away.
Unable to concentrate, I look down at my leg.
There’s a small patch of skin just above my knee on the inside that is completely blank.
I’ve been trying to figure out something to put there, but nothing is coming to mind.
Of course, I could make this fun. This area of my leg doesn’t really have a theme.
It’s just a collection of smaller tattoos that I like or that have meaning.
Some are inside jokes. Some even represent people in my life. Yes, this could be fun.
I pull my phone back out and navigate to my texts with Lyric.
ME
If you were choosing a symbol to represent yourself, what would it be?
LYRIC
Whoa. Are you high at work? This feels like a high question.
ME
Not high. Just curious.
LYRIC
Hmm. I’d have to go butterfly.
That makes sense, since she collects specimens. I checked out her collection before, but it seemed larger when we moved her in. They’re very beautiful.
ME
Why butterflies?
LYRIC
My mother actually gave me my first specimen. It was before she got sick. I know I told you she gave me my favorite, but she’s the one who introduced me to the hobby too.
ME
Does it make you feel connected to her?
LYRIC
In a way. Or sometimes it feels more like I’m doing it on her behalf. Like she can’t, so I do it for her.
ME
That makes sense.
It doesn’t feel strange to bond over the fact that we’re both members of the Dead Moms Club. Everyone in this particular club just gets it—in a way others never will—and it makes you feel okay about it.
I get out a fresh needle and some black ink, then freehand a small butterfly in the space on my knee.
Maybe it won’t make sense to anyone but me. And maybe Lyric. But she feels like a person I should remember. And it also makes me feel connected to her mom and, by extension, my mom. I can’t explain it beyond that.
Roughly ninety minutes later, my freshly inked skin is wrapped up, the shop is locked up, and I’m on my way home. And I’m definitely not thinking about Philip.