“Six years.”
“And in those six years, have you ever been in love?”
I shook my head.
“Exactly. And I know you didn’t date when you had Tyler, so you haven’t loved anyone since this boy took his exit out of your life. I know you’ve been carrying a torch for him, even if you never realized it. And now you found out that he never left you, that he never stopped loving you. What are you waiting for?”
I sighed. “I’m afraid, Jules. I’m afraid of getting hurt.”
He took my hand in his. “I know you are. We’re all afraid of getting hurt, but you can’t hide out while life passes you by. You’re never going to get a guarantee that everything will be okay, and because of what life has dealt you, I get why you’re so guarded, but you can’t forget to live your life.”
I leaned over and kissed his forehead. “Thank you.”
“I love you, Harper, and I want to see you happy. Ever since the first day we met, when I saw that awful cupcake tramp stamp, I knew you were special, but I also knew you carried around the weight of the world, and you were trying like hell to not let anyone see it. Bad things happen to good people, and you’re evidence of that, but I think this boy is something good. I saw the way he looked at you when he was here that morning. He cares for you very much.”
I nodded, as I let his words sink in. “Should I call him?”
Julian shook his head. “You need to do what you want to do in the time that you’re ready to do it, but I’m just telling you, I don’t think you’re going to regret being with this boy.”
“Okay.”
“Dinner’s ready,” Kelly called from the kitchen.
Julian nodded at me once before he got up and left the living room, leaving me sitting on the arm of the chair pondering what I should do.
* * *
Later that night, once everyone had left, I picked up the phone and called Ryan.
“You’re really calling me?” he asked by way of greeting.
“Yes, I’m calling you.”
I smiled. Just hearing his voice made me happy.
“Thank you,” he said genuinely.
“For what?”
“For not pushing me away, for giving me a chance, for, I don’t know, for letting me hear your voice because I’ve really been missing you.”
I miss you too, I wanted to say as I felt my cheeks get hot. He was doing it again – leveling me with the simplest of words.
“Well, I’m not sure it was that calculated of a phone call. I really just wanted to see how you’re doing.”
He chuckled. “I’m doing all right.”
“Have you spoken to your family?”
“No. I’ve talked to my brother, but not my parents or my sister. Lisa called me a few days ago, but I didn’t call her back, and my parents haven’t reached out. I’d venture to guess that they’re pretty mad at me for the whole wedding debacle.”
I would imagine in their eyes, it was the bigger of the issues that were going on. Their son was upset about something monumental, but it didn’t affect them in the grand scheme of things. They were image people, just like my mom had been, and when that image was in danger of being tarnished, you did what you had to, like prostituting yourself out on the sly or forgoing mortgage payments because you wanted to eat out or have designer clothes. It was a warped sense of belonging, and I’d never understood it, and I didn’t think Ryan really did either.
I sighed. “Ryan, is it possible that your sister genuinely feels bad about what happened? It was a long time ago.”
“No,” he said instantly. “She had ample opportunities to tell me what happened, but she didn’t take them. She put her own fears of me being mad at her in front of the possibility that I was missing out on my child’s life. She was being selfish, and I can’t forgive that.”
That made sense.
“So how have you been? What’s new with you?” he asked, changing the subject.
“Well, I have a gallery show on Friday, and I’m thinking of starting a new photography series. There’s this gallery that I have a quarterly spot at, and I’ve been trying to think of an original idea for my show in November with not a lot of luck. But something came to me tonight, and I think I finally know what I want to put together for it.”
“What’s the theme?”
I blushed, even though I knew he couldn’t see me. “I can’t say just yet, but maybe you’ll come to the opening?”
“I’ll be there,” he said without hesitation, and I hadn’t even told him the date yet. “How’s the tattoo business?”
“Busy. I’ve been working every night. Things are great.”
“Get any new tats lately?”
“No,” I said, smirking at his question. “I don’t get new ones on a whim. There has to be a reason.”
“That makes sense, I guess.”
“So, what about you?” I asked. “Anything new in your life?”
“Yeah, actually, lots of things,” he said, and I could hear the swell of pride in his voice.
“Like what?”
He didn’t say anything for a few seconds. “How about I come to your show this Friday and take you out for a drink afterward. I can tell you everything then.”
I sighed. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. That sounds like a date.”
He chuckled. “It doesn’t have to be, although you know where I stand, so it’s really up to you.”
“Maybe,” I told him.
“I’ll take it,” he said quickly.
I laughed. “No, it’s a maybe that we can get a drink. It’s definitely not going to be a date.”
“I can live with that,” he said jovially.
“Well then, I’ll see you on Friday. I’ll text you the address of the gallery.”
“I already know it,” he said. “I was planning to go anyway.”
I blushed again, afraid of what he made me feel when he said things like that.
* * *
I got up early the next morning, grabbed my camera, and set out across the city in search of finding love, or more specifically people in love. I wanted to observe them and capture them on film and study them to see who they were and how the person they were with shaped them.
I’d never been in love as an adult, and even though I’d been around Kelly and Devin, who were as in love as any two people, I’d never noticed them as a unit. I always saw them separately, but then last night as we sat down to eat, I started to pay attention to how he looked at her when she talked, or how when he finished his wine she reached across and refilled his glass, or the little exchanges they shared when they thought no one was looking. It was almost as if they were melded together just enough that they made each other whole. And for the first time in years, I was envious of the bond they shared.
Sure, I had Julian, and he loved me, but it wasn’t the same as someone who you connected with on such a base level. And Brandon was proving to be an awesome friend, but it was the little things that came from sleeping next to someone night after night and waking up next to them and seeing their morning routine and what they did to relax or things they laughed at. It was knowing someone better than you knew yourself, because they truly let you in and let you see them, flaws and all.
Ryan had flaws, that was for sure. He had a screwed up family, he’d made hasty decisions in his personal life, and he’d chosen a career he hated. He had a lot of flaws. But he was also a really good person, and I wasn’t sure I could fault him for being so lost. With everything that he’d been through and how his family had debased his choices again and again, he could be a really angry or jaded or hollow person, but he wasn’t. He was thoughtful and loving and was still searching desperately to find the right way to live his life, to find that spark that would bring him joy. And I couldn’t fault him for that.
He’d seemed different when we’d talked the night before. And talking to him had given me hope.
I wasn’t sure what my series on love would end up li
ke. I’d never been a planner when it came to my art. I started with a blank canvas and painted, or I set out with an idea of capturing something on film only to see where the project took me. Most of the time, I went places I never thought, and I assumed this time would be no exception.
At first I settled on a bench in the park, wanting to observe those out for morning walks. I sat for an hour and only got one shot of a man tying his girlfriend’s shoe for her while she smiled at him. Then I walked over to the waterfront, hoping to capture some of the tourists down around Fisherman’s Wharf. I got some shots in before I walked down to the Presidio for a while.
I ended up in North Beach, and since I was there, I figured I’d stop in and see my dad. He was at his garage, buried underneath a vintage car he was working on. His hobby was restoring and repairing vintage cars to mint condition, but this wasn’t one of his. It was work he was doing for someone else.
“Hey Dad,” I said, knocking on the hood.
He slid out from under the car, grease staining his hands and sweat beads dotting his forehead.
“Harper. I didn’t expect to see you today. We’re we supposed to have lunch?”
I shook my head and sat down on an old oil drum sitting in the corner. “No, I was in the neighborhood, so I figured I’d stop by.” I patted my camera bag.
“What are you working on?” he asked as he sat up.
“A series I’m entitling ‘Love’. It’s for my show in November. Are you coming to the show this Friday?”
“Definitely.”
I smiled. “So, I kind of have to tell you something.”
“Okay, shoot.”
I took a deep breath. “Ryan is back in the picture.”
“Who?”
“Ryan Carson. Tyler’s father.”
I saw the anger bubble up on my dad’s face and put my hand up to stop him from going off on me before he heard the whole story.
“There are things we never knew and manipulations that his family, and apparently, Mom, was behind,” I said, and then I told him the whole story, from the fake emails to the forged letter to the night I’d told Ryan about Tyler. And by the end, my dad looked angrier than he had before.
“A man has a right to know his son,” he fumed, and I knew the story had hit close to home.
My Mom had manipulated my dad when it came to me, but at least my dad knew his daughter was out there. He’d known I existed. He just didn’t know me, and of course, it hadn’t been too late when I’d found him again. It was too late for Ryan.
“I know, Dad, that’s why I let him back in. I’m his only link to Tyler, and I can’t even imagine how that feels.”
“Did you tell him about how Ty liked to help me and how he used to sit and ask me all about cars? And that he loved this place, because it was like a playground for him, and since he couldn’t play outside like other little boys, he was happy here?”
My dad had tears in his eyes as he talked about his grandson.
I nodded, feeling my own tears start to form as I remembered coming to pick Tyler up from the garage. He’d run over to me, take my hand and pull me around to show me all the things he and Grandpa had fixed.
“I told him everything, Dad.”
“So what are his intentions with you?”
My eyes filled even further. “I think he still loves me.”
“And do you love him?”
I nodded a few times. “I do, but I don’t want to get hurt.”
My dad stood up and leaned against the hood of the car, his arms crossed over his chest. “Harper, you have good sense, and I know you would never enter into something just because you were feeling it in here.” He placed his hand over his heart. “You’ll listen to your head just as much, so I know you’ll make the right decision. If this man is who you love, then you should be with him.”
I nodded vigorously but held the tears at bay as I bit my lip. “Okay.”
“Now when do I get to meet him?”
“You want to meet him?”
“He’s my grandson’s father, and from what I remember, he’s also the boy who helped you find me again. Yes, I want to meet him.”
“Okay. He’ll be at the show on Friday night. You can meet him then.”
* * *
When I finally walked in to my shop around two in the afternoon, I thought I had the beginnings of something good for my series. I’d continue to capture moments as I saw them, but I had a good start. I might not end up using any of the shots I took that day, but at least I had direction.
“Hey Krysta,” I said, as I looked around the front room. There was only one person waiting, so I knew I wasn’t needed. I’d let my guys have the work.
“Hey Harper,” she said, no doubt taking in my windblown appearance. “Can you ink me today?”
“Do you want something new?”
She nodded eagerly. “Yeah, I saw this picture and Paulie modified it for me, and I want to go with it.”
“Why can’t Paulie do it for you?”
She blushed. “Because he doesn’t know where I want it, and I sort of want to surprise him.”
I smiled. “Yeah, sure. Give me a few hours, and then come on back. I just want to work on some of these pictures first.”
She grinned. “You’ve got it. Thanks!”
I walked back to the room in the very back of the shop where I kept one of my laptops and all my high-tech photo printing equipment. I wasn’t sure I’d be printing anything that day, but I’d be editing, and I didn’t really want to be home alone.
I closed the door, switched the hanging sign to ‘Occupied’ and slipped my iPod into the player, turning up The Wallflowers song I’d been listening to before I’d walked into the shop. I blasted music when I worked and everyone knew that, but my room was so far back that I didn’t think they’d be able to hear anything over the punk rock they’d chosen to play out front that day.
I realized when I put the SD card into my laptop that I’d forgotten all about the pictures I’d taken the weekend of the wedding. And that suddenly gave me an idea.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Ryan
I was nervous when I walked into the gallery in Union Square. I wasn’t sure what to expect, and the prospect of seeing Harper again for the first time in three weeks had my stomach in knots.
I was sort of annoyed that Brandon hadn’t been able to come with me, but he had a date with some girl he’d met at the gym, and I guess that was probably a good thing. If everything went right, and Harper agreed to get a drink, I sort of wanted to be alone with her. Brandon’s humor and digs weren’t what I needed when I was trying to put my full effort into winning back the girl I loved.
The gallery was crowded when I walked in, and I stopped short when I saw the enlarged photographs on the walls. They were incredible. She’d done a series with models who were covered in body art, and she’d photographed them nude. In many instances, they were angled, so you couldn’t see anything revealing, but not entirely. I stopped and stared at the first photograph I’d come to of a woman whose back was on display as she was angled away from the camera. She had the image of two children on her shoulder with their names and the dates they’d lived and died under it and tears flowing down and away from the image, disappearing under her arm. And on her lower back was a verse I recognized from The Bible that read, ‘Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven.’ The photograph was entitled, ‘The Greatest Loss’.
I stared at it for a long time, emotion flowing through me as I stared at the images of the children taken from the world before they had a chance to live, and for the first time since I’d learned about Tyler, I realized I wasn’t alone in my loss. People lost children every day for reasons out of their control, but the one difference was that they got a little time with those children before they were gone. I’d never gotten that.
A hand on my shoulder startled me. “It’s a powerful piece isn’t it?”
I
turned to see Harper standing behind me, holding a glass of champagne. She looked beautiful in a dark purple strapless dress that brought out the purple in her butterfly tattoos, and her long brown hair was curled and swept over one shoulder in a low ponytail. I wanted to reach out and touch it, but I kept my hands to myself.
I nodded. “What happened?”
“Car accident. The mother survived, but the kids didn’t make it. I wanted to capture the emotion she was feeling the day she came to me for those tattoos. And I didn’t share it with her, but I knew exactly how she was feeling.”
I felt a tugging in my chest. I could only begin to understand what that must have felt like, and I felt an overwhelming urge to take Harper’s hand.
“You definitely captured it. Does the pain ever go away?”
Harper shook her head. “No, it doesn’t. But you learn how to channel it better.” She handed me the glass. “Thank you for coming.”
I swallowed hard. “I wouldn’t have missed it.”
“Would you like to see some of my other pieces?”
I nodded. Truthfully I’d been all over San Francisco in the past three weeks looking at her work. I’d purchase three more paintings for my apartment, and I’d spent hours online looking at her photographs. I noticed there were none of Tyler for sale, which I understood, and I was glad she’d given me the three photographs she had. I’d had them blown up, and they were now framed and hanging across from my bed, so I saw his face when I woke up each morning.
Harper walked me around the gallery, telling me about each photograph and what it meant to her. She shared the story of her subjects and why they chose the artwork they had. Some were covered in ink, and some had only a piece or two to represent a piece of their lives. And for the first time I started to understand the allure of tattoos.
Some of it was pure expression, but in many instances, it was a way to capture a feeling or a moment or a pivotal point in one’s life that the person wanted to make permanent. Because moments were fleeting, but if every time you looked down and saw ‘Semper Fi’ written across your forearm, and you remembered being in Afghanistan and fighting alongside your Marine brothers, or if you look down at your foot and saw the hibiscus tattooed there, and it reminded you of your honeymoon in Hawaii, then it made you never forget that moment in time. From the simplest to the most significant, tattoos were so personal. And Harper had captured that personal feeling so well.
Work of Art Page 25
