by Louise Hall
“Which was your first, sweetheart?” she asks.
I doubt I’ll see Jolie again after we land in Oahu so I tell her about the Manchester bee I used to have on my right foot.
“It sounds like it was important to you. Are you going to have it redone while you’re back in Oahu?”
I hadn’t even considered getting another tattoo but now that Jolie has made me think about it, I realise that my bee wasn’t just about Zev and I, it was a loving tribute to my hometown and more than that, it was the first step in me taking back control of my body and skin after I lost my toes and calf muscle in the first accident. It was the ultimate symbol of strength. If I really want to get closure after everything that’s happened, it would be kind of poetic to go back to the Ink and get my Manchester bee put back where it belongs on my right leg.
“Good luck, Lola,” Jolie gives me a hug as we step off the plane in Oahu. “If it doesn’t work out with Zev, here’s my grandson’s number.”
I must look completely scandalised because she chuckles, “my other grandson, i.e. not Truman who’s getting married in a couple of days. Lordy, if you could see the look on your face right now.”
“Thank you, I think?” I slip the card into the zipper pocket of my carry-on. “I hope Truman and Eloise have a beautiful wedding.”
After I’ve gone through security and collected my suitcase from the carousel, I find Mats waiting for me in the arrivals hall.
“Hey, stranger.” He takes the handle of my suitcase and starts to wheel it towards the doors. “My car’s in the shop so I’ve had to borrow Patrick’s.”
“Wait a sec,” I call after him. “Would you mind if I went to the ladies real quick? I need to freshen up.”
Zev is intrinsically linked with Oahu for me. I just know that if I wait too long to see him again, I’ll drive myself crazy. I need to rip the proverbial Band-Aid off asap.
My brother’s not a huge fan of crowds but he’s got his phone with him so I know he’ll be OK for at least a couple of minutes. I leave my suitcase with him and just take my carry-on. In the ladies’ toilets, I find an empty cubicle and quickly wriggle out of my yoga pants and slouchy hoodie. I change into black jeans and a white t-shirt with ‘Save The Bees’ printed on it. It’s always good to bring a bit of the People’s Republic of Mancunia with me wherever I go in the world. I drag a comb through my inky-black hair and tie it up in what I hope is an artfully messy bun. I thank the heavens for all-purpose travel wipes as I wipe the aeroplane gunk off my face and underneath my arms. I’m not a huge make-up junkie so I play it safe with just a coat of black mascara and some cherry flavoured lip balm. When I check myself out in the full-length mirror, I think I’ve achieved the look I was going for. I definitely don’t want Zev to think I’m trying hard to impress him. The skinny jeans make my butt look good and they don’t give away that half of my right leg is made of metal now.
“You’ve been spending way too much time with Sierra,” Mats grumbles when I come out of the ladies’ toilets. He drags my suitcase across the parking lot to his college friend’s car.
“I need to make a pit-stop before we go back to the house.” It doesn’t feel right calling it home again after I’ve been away from Oahu for so long.
Mats rolls his eyes, “let me guess, you want me to take you to the Ink?”
“You can’t be mad at me.”
“I’m not mad, I’m just…” He stashes my suitcase in the boot of the car.
“An incredibly supportive brother?” I bat my eyelashes at him and yay, it works. Who knew that I even had any feminine wiles left? It would have been better if they’d worked on somebody who wasn’t my brother but beggars can’t be choosers as my Granny Jean would say.
“Fine,” he scowls as he starts up the engine. “But when it ends in tears, I’m not buying you any of that disgusting cow’s milk ice cream.”
“Deal,” I shake his hand. It’s not going to end in tears because that would only happen if I had any expectations beyond getting my Manchester bee tattoo back where it belongs on my right leg. Ha, I’m so convincing that I almost believe myself.
When we pull up in the parking lot of the Ink, I quickly climb out of the car before I can chicken out. I give into vanity for a millisecond and check my reflection in the side mirror to make sure that I still look OK. I know that whatever I wear for my first time back at the Ink will look weird because this is Hawaii and I’m wearing too many clothes but there’s no way on earth I’m going to drop that bombshell straight away.
I glance around the quiet parking lot and it’s tough being back at the scene of the crime. After he showed it me for the first time, I told Mats that I didn’t need to see the photos of Zev kissing somebody else again but truthfully, I might have looked at them online at least a couple dozen times.
I want to be an iceberg and keep everything I’m feeling hidden well below the surface but instead I feel like an inflatable pool toy, bobbing up and down in the water as each of my emotions battle to see who can show off and garner the most attention.
After what Noah did, I really thought that I’d learned my lesson but no, I’m the dumbass who still asked about Zev the second I woke up after surgery. I was almost off my head on pain meds and still my first thought was for the jackass who’s quite probably behind the glass door in front of me right now. He was that important to me and I know that it killed my brother to have to be the one to tell me that actually my plane probably hadn’t even landed back in Seattle before he’d moved on to that skanky beeyotch.
Nope, on this I’m resolute. The reason I’m here is because I want closure, I want Zev to give me back the tattoo I’ve lost and then I can pretend that the whole intervening period between him giving me the first one and now is ancient history and I can move on. You’d think that learning to walk again would have been enough of a distraction to get over what the jackass had done but it just made it a billion times worse because he very quickly became my motivation. I used my anger towards him for what he’d done before I’d left, the fact that he hadn’t fought for me and the hurt that he’d picked up and carried on faster than the speed of light, I’d used every last ounce of that SOB to get me here now.
I scuff my Converse trainers into the dirt and try to control my racing heartbeat. I don’t want to see him again at anything less than 100%. I can tell that Mats is watching me from the passenger seat of his friend’s car. It couldn’t have worked out better because the surprise element is really important. Zev might have bleached me and my family from his memory entirely but I’m glad I don’t have to take the chance that he’ll recognise the number plate of my brother’s car. I can see Emmy chatting to a client inside the shop and I know I need to get my butt in gear. I’m going to see them first not the other way around.
I roll my shoulders, getting ready to do battle. I take a step forward and it gives me confidence because it makes me remember just how far I’ve come that I can do that one simple thing that so many people take for granted. I wipe my palm on the side of my black jeans and reach for the handle to push open the door.
Shanks’ super-annoying wind chime still tinkles as I open the door. When I worked here, it used to drive me crazy because I heard it every single time anyone entered or exited the building.
Emmy sees me first. She does a cartoonish double-take and I bite down hard on my lip to suppress a giggle.
“Zev, get out here,” she bellows. She has a huge voice for such a small woman.
“Give me a minute,” his voice filters through from one of the back rooms. “I need to finish cleaning up.”
I’m absolutely not going to dwell on what hearing that voice after all this time does to my belly.
Emmy disappears and comes back a couple of seconds later dragging Zev by his arm.
ZEV
I don’t know what the hell is up with Emmy but I’m pissed as hell to be dragged out of my room and into the front part of the store.
“She’s back,” Emmy hisses, giving m
e a huge shove.
I look up and immediately feel like I’ve been punched in the stomach. My ex, the love of my goddamn life, who left Hawaii months ago after she found out the secret I was keeping from her, is back.
The sucker-punch to the gut leaves behind a big hole which is quickly filled with all of the bitterness and pain I’ve been holding on to ever since her brother socked me in the jaw and told me that she wasn’t coming back to Hawaii and never wanted to see my ugly face ever again.
“What do you want?” I try to sound cool and disinterested. I’m not an idiot and only idiots willingly hand over their hearts to be ground into the dirt again.
She’s twitchy and I like the fact that she isn’t comfortable being around me again. She deserves every second of that discomfort. Yeah, I kept an ugly secret from her and I get why she’d be mad at me about it but she didn’t even give me a chance to explain, she just left.
“I want a tattoo.”
I look over at Emmy to see if she heard the same thing.
“You want a what?”
Lola rolls her eyes, “don’t be a jerk, Zev. You heard me perfectly the first time.” That strange accent, a mixture of Seattle and Manchester, wraps itself around my heart.
I fold my arms across my chest. “Shanks isn’t back until Wednesday.”
Emmy’s glaring daggers at Lola and there’s no way I’m letting my cousin anywhere near Lola’s soft skin. I’m not exactly happy about letting another man put his ink on what even now, like the pathetic fool I am, I still think of as mine but I trust Shanks (a) to give her a great tattoo and (b) not to make a move on her.
“I don’t want Shanks, I want you,” Lola looks me right in the eye.
“Why?”
“You’re the best.”
I shake my head, “hell no.”
Lola chuckles as if she expected that response. “OK, I’ll head over to Big Mike’s then. I know he’s always wanted to get his hands on my bare skin.”
“Like hell you will,” I growl.
“Emmy, give us a minute,” I call over my shoulder, my eyes not leaving Lola’s.
Lola breaks our gaze first, turning to look at the artwork displayed on the walls. “You know, I’ve always fancied having one of those tribal symbols around my belly button.” She lifts up her white t-shirt just a little so I can see a glimpse of her soft skin. Her jeans are low on her hips and I can see the glint of the silver dermals just above her hips.
I bite down hard on my fist to keep from groaning and giving the witch even more of the upper hand.
I gave her those damn things. I’ve given her every mark, every piercing on her gorgeous skin. If she hates me as much as her brother says she does, why is she still wearing them?
Her thumb grazes against the skin below her belly button and I think about how we discussed her having her belly button pierced once and I flat-out refused. The only way I was going to mark that particular part of her body was by giving her my child. I would adorn every other part of her with ink and metal but her soft tummy was going to remain pure until she was wearing my ring.
I might have scared off another woman with talk of rings and babies so early on in our relationship but she’d just laughed, apparently her dad was a Neanderthal like that with her mum.
“You don’t have to decide now,” Lola turns back to face me again. I’m still blown away by her quiet beauty. She might have ink and piercings but there’s something so sweet and innocent about her. She reaches up and brushes her fringe out of her dark eyes and I ache with how much I want to touch her.
When I come out of the haze, I realise she’s leaving again. She’s walking a little differently. “Is everything OK with your foot?” I ask. She might have hurt me more than any other person on the planet but that doesn’t mean that I want her to hurt.
It’s clearly the wrong thing to say because it’s like the shutters come down on her expression. “I’m fine,” she says. She’s biting down so hard on her bottom lip that it’s bleached out all of the colour. “I’ll come back tomorrow and you can give me your answer then.”
I curse myself for the weakness but “if you come after ten, I’ll be on my own.”
LOLA
“How did it go?” Mats asks as I get in the car. My hands are shaking so badly I have to sit on them. When I was in Seattle, I used to think that perhaps I’d exaggerated my feelings for Zev. I mean, if he could forget about me so easily, perhaps what we had was nothing more than an extended holiday romance? Who wouldn’t fall head over heels in love here in Hawaii? There’s a reason so many darn honeymooners come here every year.
“He’s going to think about it.”
Mats drums his fingers on the steering wheel. “I don’t get why it’s so important to you to get this tattoo and why Zev has to be the one to do it?”
“I’ve told you before, I need the closure.”
“I just don’t want you to get hurt again,” Mats doesn’t look at me. He gives the back roads his fullest concentration.
“I appreciate it, Mats but I’m a grown woman, I can fight my own battles. This isn’t even a battle, all I want is to get my tattoo back and then I can close off that chapter of my life.”
“Or it will be even more of a reminder of him?”
“Ugh, I’ve already got his ink and piercings all over my body, one more tattoo isn’t going to make a difference. You’ve been spending too much time with Vada.”
Mats jerks the car to a stop – fortunately we’re right in front of the house – and I have to slam my hand on the dashboard. “What the heck was that for?”
“Why would you say something like that?” Mats is getting worked up, he’s gulping down air really fast and the tips of his ears are bright red. “Of course, I haven’t been spending time with Vada, that would be wrong since I’m your brother and she’s his cousin. My loyalties lie with you.”
“Sheesh, don’t be so dramatic, Mats. I really don’t mind if you’ve been spending time with Vada. She didn’t do anything wrong.”
I watch him visibly relax and he’s so busted. He’s totally been spending time with Vada while I’ve been back in Seattle but I meant what I just said, I like Vada. Even though I’ve sworn off men forever, I still think she and Mats make a cute couple.
After he’s dropped me back at the house, Mats goes to return his friend’s car. It’s really weird being in my bedroom in Oahu again after so many months in Seattle. I used to really like the teal paint on the walls, black and white chequered bedding and the bright yellow cushions but maybe it’s the jet-lag because now they’re giving me a headache.
I stand my suitcase up by my dresser and sit down on the end of my bed.
I did a good patch-up job before I went to the Ink but I’m starting to feel gross again after the long flight and so I strip off my clothes and walk into the bathroom. Maybe my first thought was right and after I’ve found closure with Zev, I’ll have to move on from Oahu to somewhere else because it doesn’t feel like home anymore. Seattle doesn’t either and I don’t like feeling so displaced. It’s strange because the closest I’ve come to feeling like I belong anywhere, since I lost my leg, was at the Ink just now.
My brother’s bought me a white, plastic shower chair. I remove my prosthetic and lower myself onto it. It’s necessary but I don’t like the reminder of my disability. I also don’t like that my bare butt keeps sticking to it.
After I’ve showered, I take my time drying off and getting dressed in sleep shorts and a vest. I’m not planning on leaving the house anytime soon because I don’t want anybody else to find out about my lack of leg before I get the chance to tell Zev.
My stump isn’t happy after the long flight so I decide not to put my prosthetic back on just yet and rely instead on my crutches.
I hobble back along the hallway to my bedroom but stop halfway when I see the map that Mats has had since he was little. He used to stick pins in it and of course because he’s an uber-geek, they were colour coded to indicate wheth
er he’d already been to a place or if he wanted to go there in the future.
I’ve got enough money that I could go and live almost anywhere in the world. If I want the safety net of being close to family, I’m not just limited to the triumvirate of Manchester, Seattle or Oahu. My maternal grandmother splits her time between Manchester and Buenos Aires, where her boyfriend lives. In Europe, I’ve got my step-grandfather, Bernard’s family in Brittany, aunt Remy in Rome and aunt Ruby in Calder Harbour in the south of England. My eldest cousin, Rocco lives in Wellington with his wife, Arabella while his brother, Luca travels all over the world as a journalist but he’s based in Osaka.
I’m still thinking about it when there’s a knock at the front door. I assume my brother’s back already and has forgotten his key so I hobble down the stairs on my crutches. When I peek through the flimsy lace curtain, I recognise Vada’s bright blue hair.
I’m really tempted to pretend that there’s nobody home but she must have seen the rustle of the curtain or she heard the loud clomps of my crutches on the wooden floors because she squeals with excitement, “Jane, is that you?”
I was brought up better than to be rude so I prop my crutches up against the wall and open the door halfway. I hide my missing leg on the other side of the door. “If you’re looking for Mats, he’s gone out but I’ll let him know you stopped by.” Gah, I want to be good but my snarky side just slips out.
She looks hurt that I’m trying to get rid of her but I can’t forget that my phone wasn’t exactly abuzz with texts and e-mails from her or anybody else here in Oahu while I was in Seattle. I get it, she and Zev are family and so of course she’d be Team Zev but it still upsets me because I’d thought that we were friends.
“It’s Lola now.”
