CHAPTER 7 #2
I read it a second time, all the way through. Then I scan a few parts. Where he opens up about his mom. The self-awareness he’s put out there, that he knows his mommy issues are at the core of the problem, is surprising.
Damn it if my heart doesn’t soften just slightly.
And then he offers to tattoo me. I’m not entirely sure how I feel about it.
I’ve always wanted another tattoo. How does he know that?
But then I remember him saying shit to me about loyalty and family, as if I haven’t devoted my life to both. My eyes slide closed and I shake my head slowly.
When I look up, Opal and Lorraine are looking at me. Even though I expect Lorraine to say something snarky or even encourage me to forgive the ‘poor boy’, she takes a breath and studies my face before getting up and stepping up to the counter.
Since I’m leaning against the edge and holding the letter in front of me like I’m about to recite it aloud, she easily wraps her cold fingers around my wrist and gives a gentle squeeze. It feels maternal adjacent.
“I don’t know what he said in that letter, but if he told you anything about his past then you know Lola picked the right guy to con. It was a perfect storm, and he lapped up all of her bullshit.” Lorraine makes a face and advises, with complete seriousness, “Don’t kiss him too soon.”
I bark out an unexpected laugh before blurting out, “He says he never touched Lola.”
“He told me the same,” Opal chimes in.
“It tracks from what I’ve seen,” Lorraine agrees. “She certainly wanted to make it seem like they were together,” she pauses, “biblically.” She shakes her head and purses her lips. “That woman performs in all sorts of ways.”
I’m not entirely sure what to do with all of that. So, I ignore it.
It’s for the best really.
“Just be true to yourself,” Lorraine advises, “and don’t do anything that’ll make you have some sort of breakdown and change the recipe for your cinnamon buns.
That would be a tragedy, and I would be the first in line to have you committed,” she lays her threat at my feet with a completely straight, and serious, face.
I’m a little dazed as she pats my wrist and then turns to leave.
“I’d never change that recipe,” I assure her, the words automatic. Because I won’t.
And not just because this isn’t the first threat she’s made about it.
“Good,” she throws the words over her shoulder, her voice is breezy, “sanitoriums really aren’t what they used to be.” She adds, muttering, “Damn shame really.”
The moment the door closes behind her, Opal’s first giggle breaks through. “She’s a force,” her words are filled with amusement.
“Yeah, tornado level,” I murmur. My eyes widen when I realize what I said and quickly add, “Don’t tell her I said that.”
“She’d be thrilled,” Opal crows. Then she wiggles her eyebrows and glances at the letter meaningfully. “What else did it say?”
“He’s offered to tattoo me. Any size, design, and wherever?” It comes out more of a question because I’m still a little amazed at the offer.
Maybe I shouldn’t be.
It would be like me saying sorry with baked goods.
“Do you want a tattoo?” Opal’s eyes light up. “Do you have any tattoos?”
“I do have one,” I admit. “But it’s small. I’ve always wanted another one, but it was an expense I couldn’t talk myself into.”
“Then why aren’t you jumping on this?” She looks at me like I’ve lost the plot.
I get why she’s asking. It would seem like a damn good opportunity.
“I don’t want to accept this and then he thinks I have to forgive him or something,” I try to explain. “There’s not even anything to forgive. Like I said, we can just ignore the whole thing and move on. You know, let it go?”
“Lara,” there’s laughter in her voice, “that man is not going to let it go. So, what if you allow him to do this and he still can’t make it up to you?”
“He doesn’t have anything to make up,” my tone is exasperated. “He can just stop being a dickhead, it would be enough,” the words come out mulish.
“Yeah,” she looks at me with something close to pity, “after talking to him, it’s obvious that is not going to be enough for him. Just prepare yourself.”
“Prepare myself?” I sound affronted. And rightly so. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means the man has always been creative and a little out there. I doubt he’ll leave it at a tattoo if you agree. If you don’t agree, he definitely won’t let it be.” Opal is enjoying this way too much.
She’s practically giddy.
“That doesn’t make me feel better about any of this,” I grumble.
“It really wasn’t meant to.” She makes a face at me that tells me she isn’t sorry in the least. “Look,” she tries another angle, “at worst you’ll get a tattoo. At best you’ll get a tattoo and find out that Playboy isn’t as much of an asshole as he previously was to you.”
I doubt it.
But I don’t say that.
Instead, I sigh, “I’ll think about it.”
Opal looks pleased with herself. She also looks ridiculous because she’s still wearing the angel wings. Before I can remind her about them, the door swings open and Vanessa freezes with the door wide open. Her mouth falls open and then she lets out a squeal as she rushes toward Opal.
“Are you Cupid?” Vanessa gushes the question.
“I am,” Opal answers with a decisive nod. She glances at me like I shouldn’t have asked because it was clearly obvious.
It never was.
“I get why you didn’t wear a diaper, but I am a little disappointed,” Vanessa comments while sliding around the counter and hugging me.
My fingers brush through her hair and I soak it up just for a moment. “How was school?” I ask the question automatically while reaching for the bag with her cookie.
She chirps, “It was good. You know how it is.”
I bite my lip and nod, completely understanding. At least, I want her to think I do.
When her eyes land on the letter, which I’m not even trying to hide, her gaze turns curious. “What’s that?”
“Playboy wrote your mom a letter,” Opal provides, like the damn thing was addressed to her. It was not.
“Oh yeah?” She peers at it but doesn’t try to grab it or read it. My mama heart grows a few sizes bigger. “Does it say anything interesting?” Her eyes light up. “Does he confess is undying love for you?”
I look at her, completely appalled, while Opal laughs so hard she’s damn close to rolling around on the floor.
Opal blurts out, “He offered to tattoo her.”
I glare at her, but she covers her mouth slowly as if she’s trying to take the words back or didn’t mean to say them at all. But I can see the glint in her eye.
Before I can lay into Opal, Vanessa cuts in, “You should do it.” Her voice is so matter of fact, like it’s all so simple, “If you want to get a tattoo, at least. Why not?”
Why not?
The question rolls through my head a few times, picking up speed with every pass. I don’t have an answer. Not a good one. Honestly, not really one at all.
I don’t have a reason not to do it.
“Maybe,” I offer because I’m still not sure. “What would I even get?”
“That is the question,” Vanessa says like she knows I’ve already agreed.
Maybe I have.
Damn it.