“Uh? A unicorn?” I repeated.
Dad didn’t look up; instead he shook his head and began typing with one finger.
“I always wanted a unicorn, so I got one,” Mom replied as she grabbed her hand-felted purse and went to the door.
I stood in the middle of the living room staring between the two of them in shock.
Dad looked up, “What’s wrong, dear?”
I opened my mouth and then closed it, unsure what to say.
“Are we going or not?” Mom asked from behind me.
“Don’t get something stupid like your mom, okay?” Dad added before continuing his haphazard stabbing of the keyboard.
“Sure, I’ll try not to,” I finally managed as I turned to follow Mom out to the car.
“So who’s this Tom guy we are going to see?” I asked as Mom dialed a number on her ancient flip-phone. She shook her head at me as she answered, “Hey, it’s Leigh Walker. Do you have an opening in say twenty?…Sounds great, see you then.”
She snapped the phone shut before putting the car in gear and explaining, “I always wanted a tattoo, when I hit fifty—I said to the hell with it and got one. Tom’s daughter is a patient at the office.”
“Is she a regular?”
“Well, she was having some distress in her abdominal region and it took a long time to figure out what it was. I helped them through it as any doctor would, but Tom thought I went above and beyond. He knew it was ridiculous to offer, but he said any time I needed a tattoo I could count on him. Now,” she paused and pointed at me, “I don’t get the tattoos all over the body thing—especially not those full sleeves. So, don’t get too into this, kay?”
I was still trying to get a handle on her having a tattoo, let alone the fact Dad didn’t seem to care at all.
“Sure,” I mumbled, looking down at the wrist I planned to mar with ink.
We drove in silence until we pulled into a large strip mall, and started to doubt myself as she put the car into park.
“Ready?” she asked, nodding over her shoulder at the tattoo shop with the neon OPEN signing teasing me.
I wondered if all tattoo places looked this shifty and how many of them Evan went to in order to get his series of markings.
“Leigh! It’s a pleasure to see you,” Tom greeted, holding the door open for us to enter.
Mom took the hand of the skinny, tattooed to an inch of his life, thirty-something year old and shook it. I found myself staring at his gauged ears, and I tried not to let the disgust show on my face. Now that was not something I liked to look at. I rationalized tattoos had their place, especially on Evan, but reminded myself to ask him just how many more he was planning on. I really hoped they wouldn’t extend up his neck like this guys.
Tom and Mom were now deep in conversation about some diet his daughter was on. It struck me he wasn’t much older than Evan, and this guy had a kid.
“So what are we doing for you today?” Tom directed the question at me, but I was so much in my thoughts I just shook my head in response. He tilted his head at me, stretching the tattoo of a demon so it looked like it was screaming at me. I tried not to cringe as he asked again, “Where do you want the tattoo, and what of?”
“Right, tattoo,” I said. “Uh, right here…a swirly heart.”
“Swirly heart?” he repeated, one eyebrow arching as the metal post lodged in it shined against the lights.
“Yeah.”
“Alright…how big?”
I showed him with my fingers and he nodded. “I’ll draw a few things up, okay?”
He walked back to the desk and grabbed a pencil before staring down at the paper with a blank expression. It felt like he had no clue what I wanted, and I saw the trepidation as he chewed on the eraser. He started sketching, slowly at first and then his hand sped up as a smile came to his face.
“Like this?” he asked as he came over.
I looked down and my breath caught in my throat. It was a set of hearts linked together by thin, but elegant lines.
“Exactly.”
“Love it!” Mom squealed, grabbing my arm.
“Speaking of love, are you still loving the unicorn?” Tom’s eyes went to Mom’s lower waist, and I thought I might die.
“Where the hell is this unicorn?” I gave in to my curiosity, unable to control it after Tom’s downcast stare.
Mom gave me a fake grin that showed all her teeth before tapping on her hip.
My upper lip arched in distaste.
“I shouldn’t have asked.”
“I’m sexy and you know it.”
“Oh, gag!” I yelped in response.
At some point in our conversation Tom had disappeared to his station and began setting it up.
“You ladies finished bickering?” he teased, and Mom and I had to stop glaring at one another.
“Ready?” Mom asked with a nudge in my back.
“Sure thing,” I mumbled back.
The truth was the tattoo didn’t hurt. It just felt as though someone was dragging a dull razor blade over my skin; what really got to me was the noise. It was a dull, but ever so constant buzz that just wouldn’t let up. It sent my hair at its end as I watched the ink seep from the needle into my skin. If Evan had sat through hours of this I really gave him credit. The hearts that now adorned my wrist only took twenty minutes, and I already had a serious migraine from the drone of the tattoo gun.
Tom rubbed some clear goo on my wrist, which I assumed was anti-bacterial before snapping his black rubber gloves off.
“All done! What do you think?” he asked.
“Perfect.” I smiled as I looked down.
I couldn’t wait to see what Evan thought about this.
Chapter 8
Weeks passed, and I was still staring at those three words on my computer screen. Evan told me it was a break-through that I even created the file to contain the writing. It was one of the greatest things about him; he knew what I needed to do, but wasn’t about to push me into anything I didn’t want. He reassured me three words were better than none.
I was getting used to our long-distance relationship, which consisted of mostly text messages or face-talk when we were in similar time zones. I’d done as he asked and stopped watching his music videos, or looking for his name in magazines. It was pointless anyways; I knew the truth, so it didn’t matter. I could gather from him word had snuck out he was seeing someone and the media was hot on his trail trying to find out. They’d give up soon, he reassured me, but it was just another excuse for not writing—I was finding lots of those. I tapped on the edge of the keyboard with my fingers, pounding out a beat to the song on the internet radio. As the song ended another started that made me smile. I couldn’t help but turn the sound all the way up and jump on my bed with my brush in hand as I started to head bang to a song that didn’t really require it. No one would see me anyways, so I sang off key and smiled. It was a song from the 90′s—I didn’t remember liking it as a kid, but the beat worked perfectly now as I swayed my hips and changed my brush into a guitar. The French doors were wide open; the breeze sending the sheer curtains billowing into the room as I sang like a teenager. There were probably people at the lake who could hear my nails-on-chalkboard voice. They probably thought I had lost it, but I didn’t care.
I jumped off the bed and twirled around with my eyes closed. When I finally came to a stop, laughing so hard I fell onto my butt, I looked up to see Evan with his hands in his back pockets, an adorable but puzzled pout on his face.
“I didn’t know you were in the area,” I managed to say, my face bright red.
“I didn’t really think you were an Eve 6 girl, and then again, I also thought it was before your time,” he observed, eyebrows raised.
“Hey,” I snapped through a nervous giggle. “I’m not that much younger than you.”
He shook his head and walked into my room, giving me a hand up. “Young enough.”
I ran my hand over his stubble. “The only reason yo
u look older than me is because you never shave.”
“I missed you, too,” he teased as he entwined his hands in mine.
“You ruined my music party.” I pouted before he pulled me into a kiss.
“I thought I was your music party.”
“You weren’t here so I had to make my own. Pretty good, huh?”
He bit his inner cheek as he tried to control his laughter. “Honestly? I thought a harpie was dying.”
I punched his shoulder and tried to pull away, but instead we both went tumbling onto my bed.
“I know I can’t sing—that’s why I have you!” I laughed as he tickled me. He angled his head as he laughed, but suddenly he was silent. I let my eyes follow his into the corner where an acoustic guitar leaned on a stand. “Yeah, I suck at that, too.”
He stood and picked the guitar off the stand, his eyes scrutinizing its pale yellow exterior. “You’re learning guitar?”
I showed him the various Angry Birds bandages on my fingers. “Failing miserably. It was supposed to be a surprise—I was trying to learn Shattered Mirrors.“
He put the guitar back down and the strings reverberated out of tune. He took my fingers in his hands and kissed each one. “Part of the issue is the guitar.”
I crossed my legs and shook my head. “I’m pretty sure it’s mainly me that’s the issue.”
“Who’s teaching you?”
“Youtube.” I looked down at my lap as he chuckled.
“Come on, let’s go,” he demanded, taking my hands and pulling me up.
I looked down at my oversized shirt hanging off one shoulder and short-shorts. “Should I change?”
He cocked his head. “No, you look amazing.”
I shrugged as I glanced in the mirror before I grabbed my sunglasses. “Where are you taking me?”
He let his aviators drop over his eyes. “It’s a secret.”
“Does it involve more Angry Birds?” I asked as I jumped on his back and he carried me out to the newest rental car. “Another Audi?”
“A better one,” he commented as he pulled the keys out and clicked a button. The top went down and I sighed my approval. “I thought you’d like that.”
“I honestly wouldn’t care if it was a bicycle,” I replied as he swung me around his waist and set me on the hood.
“But it’s pretty nice?”
“What is it?” I asked, looking down at the shiny white paint and sleek design.
“An Audi.”
The way he automatically skipped what type it was made me curious.
“How much is it worth?” I asked.
He shrugged and planted a kiss on my forehead before nodding over his shoulder and saying, “Get in—we need to fix the birdy situation.”
“That much, huh?” I teased as Evan revved the engine.
He ignored me as he said, “Keep playing the Wal-Mart special and you’ll end up owning stock in Angry Bird bandages.”
I rolled my eyes. “I got it at Target.”
“That’s much better,” he joked as he pressed buttons on the touch screen GPS.
“So where are we going?”
As the GPS instructed a right turn, Evan took one of my hands in his and ran his index finger over the bandages. “No more Angry Birds.”
“That’s highly doubtful.”
“Even if you only ever stare at the thing—I’m getting you a better guitar than that monstrosity in there.”
“If you’re getting me a guitar it better be pink—and I want you to play it on stage for me,” I said as I put my head back on the rest and stared at him.
He had one hand entwined in mine; the other held the steering wheel, his thumb gently pounding out a beat only he was hearing as he glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. “Pink? You want me to play a pink guitar on stage?”
“You know I’ve never seen you in concert, right?”
As he took the next turn the GPS indicated, he rotated his head to look at me.
“Really?”
I sighed. “You realize crappy tickets at your shows are like ninety bucks plus processing fees?”
His hand left mine and ran through his hair—a new vein I never noticed before bulged in his forearm. It was a sign he was irritated by what I said.
“I never thought of that,” he replied.
I shrugged. “It’s not because I never wanted to see you.”
“Pink, huh?”
“I was teasing—I’d need an amp and everything else, anyways, seeing you play electric most of the time. Hell, I can barely figure out my iPhone, how do you think I’d do trying to figure out an amp?” I tried to reassure him by putting my hand on his thigh and squeezing.
“We’ll get you a nice acoustic,” he answered, nodding his head, but I could hear from his voice he was deep in thought.
“So how long are you here for this time?” I asked the question that I always dreaded, but found it was easier for me to cope with him leaving if I knew exactly when it would happen.
“Two days. We’re performing in Boston tomorrow night. I drove up here so I could see you.”
“Thanks.”
I put my head on his shoulder and he wrapped his arm around me. “I’m sorry it’s so short this time. They really wanted to get the set under control today, but the band figured it would be better for me to come see you.”
“Why is that?” I asked as I looked up at him.
“They say if I’m anywhere near the East Coast I can’t keep my head on straight.”
“My powers of seduction can even get to you from miles away.”
“Yeah, that’s it.”
“Did you guys start working on a new CD yet?”
“A little bit. We’ve being working on some ideas for singles. I think you’re going to love it. I finally let go a bit—let the guys have a little bit more control.” He shrugged before continuing, “I guess I’m a bit of a control freak with writing the music. I’m actually surprised they’ve dealt with it for so long. They thank you, by the way.”
“For what?”
“They think it’s because of you that I’m letting them have some creative freedom.”
“I don’t know how I’d do that,” I laughed.
“Mhmm,” was his response as he kissed my hair. “So you must like pink?”
“Not especially; I’d just love to see you in all your masculinity with a pink guitar.”
“Oh, that’s so nice of you.”
I turned to face him and indicated to him with my hands. “Just tight enough v-neck T that shows all your amazing arm muscles…bad boy studded belt—jeans that are perfectly tight when you lean with your guitar…not to mention the hair that just looks like you ran a hand through it and it ended up like that.”
He heaved a stressed sigh. “Really?”
“Don’t be mad at me. I know you hate being a sex symbol, but… you kind of are.”
“Well, so are you.”
It was my turn to scoff. “No.”
“Uh, yes.”
“How?”
He changed his voice so it was high pitch and girly, and pretended to twirl a piece of hair around his finger. “I’m Emma, curvy with perfectly soft waves in my hair…and I smell like cotton candy and musk. I’ve seduced a,” he took both hands off the steering wheel and did air quotes, ” ‘rock god’ and still don’t think much of myself.”
I blushed. “I never said I didn’t think I was pretty…”
“You should know you are and if you were a pop star—”
“You’ve heard me sing!”
“Okay, if you were—when you are a famous author, they’ll be asking you to play your own parts in your movies.”
“That’s ridiculous!” I looked up at the sky but couldn’t help laughing.
Evan raised his glasses so I could see him roll his eyes. “You should’ve been a model.”
I stuck my tongue out at him and pulled my knees to my chest.
He let his head sway across his shoulder
s, looking down at me and sighed. “I forgot to mention those.”
“What?”
He ran a finger over the skin of my thigh. “The legs…oh, the legs.”
“Is there anything else?”
He pouted before speaking again, “Yeah, then there’s everything that you are…you’re laugh, smile, and your strong sense of person.”
“I don’t think I’m strong.”
“I know you don’t, but you are.”
“How?”
“You’re strong enough to not collapse under whatever that asshole did to you. Yes, I know you don’t write anymore—”
“I’ve been trying to get past those three words.”
“Really?” he asked as the GPS told him to exit the freeway.
“Not with much success. I haven’t managed anything else yet,” I explained as I played with the inexpensive watch on his wrist. I admired the fact that although he could have afforded so much more he opted for a simple black watch with a large face that merely said Quartz and nothing else.
“You will. It’s just going to take some time…” his voice drifted off, and he took a deep breath.
“What?”
“So the words were worse?”
My heart quickened as he said it, and I could already feel the sweat building on my forehead.
“I can’t stand anyone to tell me I can’t do something anymore. It just makes me want to do it a thousand times more.”
I closed my eyes and took a shaky breath before continuing, “Just the tone of voice he used to use. God, just the thought of it makes me want to punch something! It made me want to then, but I just couldn’t—part of me believed he was right…I was stupider than dirt…that I’d amount to nothing without him.”
“When he left…did he try to come back?”
“Yeah,” I replied, looking up and closing my eyes. “I hid myself pretty well, though. I knew I didn’t want to be treated like that anymore. I’d had enough time to realize that I’d rather be alone than dead.”
“You think he would have?”
“My parents wanted to press charges. I just wanted to forget so I did. I blacked it out…pushed it into the corners my mind, but every once in a while it creeps up on me. The things I let happen…”
The vein in Evan’s neck was visible all the way down his arm and to his hands; they clenched the steering wheel as his knuckles went white. “I wish I’d known you then.”
Love Exactly Page 5
