Sammi grunted and she caught movement out of the corner of her eye that might have been a shrug.
Autumn made it the full half-hour drive to the house without further incident. In complete silence. By the time she pulled into the driveway and parked in the garage she was relieved for the escape of all the little things to do to settle Sammi.
“I don’t want to smother you, so you tell me how much help you want.” She turned toward Sammi, sitting utterly still in the passenger-side seat.
For a few moments neither moved or spoke.
“I’ve got it,” Sammi said abruptly and released the catch on the seat belt.
“Okay.”
Autumn followed him into the house, clutching the white plastic bags of belongings to her chest so she wouldn’t open the doors for him or offer a steadying hand. He moved with stiffness the doctors said would go away in a day or so with light exercise.
“I was thinking I’d make some lunch. The doctors said soup is best, but I thought maybe something with meat in it. I could do a chicken noodle if you’d like?” Autumn left the bag in the laundry room as they passed.
Sammi shrugged and ambled into the living room.
Autumn stopped in the kitchen, watching him. He paused by the recliner, gazing at it as if he were considering sitting, but started past it for the patio doors. She wanted to tell him to stay inside. The weather had cooled to the upper nineties courtesy of a “cold front” from up north but it was still humid and uncomfortable. Autumn held her tongue and went to watch him from the window over the sink.
Sammi stood on the patio. At some point a rectangular table had been delivered to seat six, probably during her latest disappearing act. He stood with one hand on the chairs, staring out at the backyard.
Her heart ached for him. She knew what it was to have a mother betray you. While her mother had a steady addiction problem, Autumn didn’t know how to even begin to comprehend what Sammi’s mother had done.
If she couldn’t solve the greater problems, she could at least heat up a can of soup and take care of the physical ones.
Autumn set about putting together a light lunch, even tossing in a grilled cheese sandwich she knew Sammi would like if he was up to it. On a tray, she collected the sandwich, bowl and a tall glass of iced tea Ester had brought by in preparation for their homecoming and took it outside.
Sammi had opened the umbrella over the patio set and sat in the shade, still staring at nothing.
“Here’s something to eat, if you think you’re up to it.” Autumn placed the meal in front of him and stood back, hands clasped in front of her just hoping for a word.
His gaze dropped to the tray, perhaps not even seeing it. She couldn’t tell. He reached for the glass of tea and her stomach dropped.
“Oh shit. I’m sorry, I didn’t even think.”
She reached to snatch it off the tray, but he lifted it to his lips and drank deeply of the cold liquid. He held it away from him, examining the glass, condensation beading on the exterior, and set it down.
Autumn sat heavily in the seat next to him and watched his profile, the lack of emotion.
“She had Münchausen syndrome by proxy. It’s not an official diagnosis, but her psychiatrist told me he suspected it a year ago. I talked her into seeing him after Dad died. Did you know they want to exhume Dad’s body to see if she caused his heart attack?” Sammi looked at her then. The flecks of gold in his brown eyes flashed, and for a moment Autumn could feel his pain and anger. Then it was gone. Shut off. “It shouldn’t surprise me.”
“But she’s your mother.” She took his hand and squeezed. “It’s not the same thing, but I know how it feels to be betrayed by family.”
“Yeah.” He nodded and dropped her hand, picking up the spoon and tucking into the food.
Autumn waited for him to say something else, but he didn’t glance at her, just ate the meal she’d prepared and acted as if she weren’t there.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Portrait Tattoos—These images are often created to memorialize a loved one or an icon. The goal is to make the tattoo as realistic as the image or person depicted.
Sammi watched the TV without following what the actors said or did. He needed a set of brakes or something to keep the world from passing him by. For a lazy Saturday, it was speeding by.
He could hear Ester and Autumn in the kitchen, keeping their voices low as they put together the evening meal. Isaac hadn’t tried speaking to him after the first few minutes.
The truth was, he wasn’t ready to talk, to discuss the last week or the path his life had taken. He wanted more than anything to be left alone with his thoughts, but everyone wanted to help him.
* * * * *
Autumn juggled the three pizzas and her duffle bag as she climbed the stairs to Carly’s apartment. Pandora and Brian’s Jeep, Kellie’s Cube and Mary’s DeVille were in the drive already. She blew out a breath and climbed the last few stairs as the door banged open.
“Autumn,” Pandora yelled, beer hoisted high.
“Pandora,” she yelled back, laughing. “Popped the first one without me?”
“No, this one is yours. I just opened it.” Pandora held the door for her as she stepped into the cozy place.
“How is she?” Autumn whispered as she passed.
“Eh.” Pandora shrugged and closed the door behind her.
“Hey, Care Bear,” Kellie called out from her place on the couch.
Mary stepped out of the bathroom at that exact moment and took the pizzas. “Hello, mija. How are you?”
Autumn wrapped an arm around Mary’s shoulders and squeezed. It felt good to be around her girls. “Exhausted and ready for some fun.” She smiled, but it only went skin-deep. Tonight she needed her friends. Badly.
Carly wheeled around the kitchen, pulling disposable plates and a new roll of paper towels out and setting them on the counter.
“Hey, Carly.” Autumn leaned against the cabinets and studied her friend.
“Hey.” Carly glanced at her and a smile flickered across her face, but she didn’t even try to hide how blue she was.
“Here we go. A cheese and spinach. A meat lovers’. And a cinnamon chocolate. Yum!” Kellie flipped back the lids of the boxes and the apartment filled with the delicious aroma of pizza.
They shuffled through the kitchen, gathering their pizza and beer and settling in the living room. Autumn took a seat on the floor, pillows cushioning the otherwise hard surface.
“Thanks for picking up the pizza,” Kellie said.
“No problem.” Autumn smiled. Thanks for including me.
“How’s Sammi?” Mary asked.
Autumn blinked for a moment. Mary was a woman of few words, and normally took the role of a listener in conversation.
“He’s back on his feet.” She shrugged and glanced away.
“He’s been home for what? A week now?” Pandora asked.
Autumn nodded. A week of the silent treatment. Fixing lunches, doing his laundry, making sure he went to the doctor’s office, running interference with well-meaning friends who wanted to drop in for gossip. And not a kind word spoken to her.
“What’s going on?” Carly asked, perking up for once.
“I’m just—I don’t know if I’m ready to talk about it.” She sucked in a deep breath and used her paper towel to daub her eyes.
For a few moments no one spoke. The awkwardness level rose at least ten points.
“Jacob’s wife is pregnant and everyone’s acting like someone died,” Carly said completely deadpan.
Autumn blinked.
“That’s why they called you over here, wasn’t it?” Carly thumbed at the couch of guilty participants.
“Well, yeah.” Autumn nibbled on a pepperoni. Pandora had called her earlier, frantically trying to put together a last-minute girls’ night.
“We’re concerned about you. Jacob and you were close.” Pandora leaned forward, her face creased with worry. Just like a mother.
<
br /> “Please, I am an adult. I’m done sulking about this. It just makes it super awkward when you guys act like you have to walk around on eggshells. It’s not like I didn’t know he was going to get married.” She shrugged and picked up a slice of pizza. “I’ll get over it.”
Autumn smiled at Carly, who lifted her pizza to her in silent salute.
“I moved out of the house and back into my apartment today,” Autumn said in a rush.
“What?” Pandora shrieked.
“Why?” Kellie almost dropped her beer.
Carly and Mary just stared at her.
Autumn set her plate on the ground, no longer hungry. She carefully wiped her fingers off. It was time to come clean. The charade was over.
“The last two months have been a lie.” She shrugged and wrapped her arms around her knees. “Sammi thought he was dying from a childhood illness, and all this time his mother was poisoning him. He was ready to die when he thought he couldn’t get better, and he asked me to marry him. Because he’d never thought he’d live long enough to.” Tears started flowing freely as she continued to recount the story, but all she could feel was the unrequited love burning a hole in her chest.
“Wow,” Carly said when she was done.
“He left for a conference on Thursday. I started moving out yesterday. I’m not going to wait for him to divorce me. It’ll be better for both of us if I move out. He’s back on his feet now, and we can still be friends, right?” She wiped her face, groaning at the black streaks of mascara on the napkin.
Great. Just fucking wonderful.
“I’ll drink to that.” Carly leaned over and clinked her beer against Autumn’s. “Here’s to moving on.”
They ate in silence for a few moments.
“What are you going to do next?” Kellie asked.
Autumn shrugged. “I’ve done a few tattoos this last week. I guess I’ll get my shit together and figure it out come midweek. I should have a better idea what’s going on then.” And Sammi would have returned from his conference and found her letter.
“You should come back to the shop,” Mary said into the brooding silence. “We could use you. And I kind of miss you.”
“Really?” Autumn’s eyes teared up all over again.
Mary rolled her eyes and muttered something. “Yes, I’m really serious.”
Autumn sprang to her feet and launched herself at Mary, landing across the laps of Mary and Pandora in the process. Pizza and beer went flying, there were both curses and laughter, but she didn’t care. So Inked was home, and right now she needed her home more than anything.
* * * * *
Sammi stared out of the window of his empty hotel room. A black cloud streamed up into the sky. Austin’s nightly rising of the bats. He’d gone to see it up close once a few years back with his father. Sammi hadn’t been particularly interested in it at the time, but those moments were the ones he missed now. The ones that had been stolen from him.
He glanced at his nails out of habit. If he’d known what those stripes signified two years before, maybe the world would be different. Though the police were busy exhuming his father’s body, Sammi knew what the outcome would be.
Arsenic poisoning.
Sammi tossed the contents of his glass back and closed his eyes at the slow burn. The doctors and Autumn would have a cow if they knew he was drinking, but he needed to feel something.
He should never have gone on this trip.
The best thing for him this last week had been Autumn’s silent support. Here, alone in a fancy hotel, he was miserable.
Sammi pulled the armchair around to face the window and watched the Texas sky fade to purples and blacks. It was beautiful. He passed his hand over his shoulder where Autumn’s tattoo mimicked this moment and, despite everything, he smiled. Warmth curled through his chest at the thought of her.
They hadn’t had time to get on the same page again. Except for their stolen moments at the hospital before the world went to hell, they had hardly even spoken. He knew he owed her an apology, but when he looked at her, the only thing on the tip of his tongue was, “I love you,” and for some reason he couldn’t say it yet.
Sammi dug his phone out of his pocket and pulled up his texts. Still no reply, but with the way she’d been sleeping ten hours a day after taking care of him, he didn’t doubt she’d spent the whole weekend in bed. When all of this was over, they needed to get away again. Just the two of them. Maybe take that DC vacation like he’d suggested, or something more exotic.
It would be the two of them from now on. He had no doubt his mother would receive a heavy sentence, lightened only by the consideration of her mental condition. A week had given him perspective on her arrest. What she’d done. He didn’t have answers for her betrayal, and for several nights he’d sat on the patio, sweating half his body weight, wondering why. Trying to come to grips.
The hardest thing to understand was his mother’s refusal to see him. The doctors evaluating her had relayed her claims that he was deceased and she in mourning. Every time he spoke to them, it just seemed that her screws were looser and looser.
If it wasn’t for Autumn, he’d have died.
Hey sunshine. Thinking about you.
* * * * *
Autumn dipped her needle in ink. The tattoo was delicate. Swirling bands of color arced over the young woman’s ring finger, and it was important Autumn made sure this tattoo matched the one on her client’s new husband.
“You never said how you met,” Autumn prompted the woman, Shari, to keep talking. She’d turned green during the outline and now had a damp paper towel on her forehead and her husband held her other hand.
“I was bartending and he came in one night.” Shari turned her attention on her husband Max, and not Autumn. “We started talking about something random.”
“How you open straws for people,” Max said.
“Right. I tear them in the middle, stick it in a drink and let a customer pull the rest of the paper off. I never touch the straw. Anyways, he hung out all night even after his friends left.”
“What she isn’t telling you is that I bought her shots all night.” Max grinned unashamed.
They were an adorable couple. Early twenties, hip, the light of love and promise in their eyes. Autumn felt so much older than she really was. At twenty she’d been starting her life over after turning on the hand that fed her. For once she couldn’t see the silver lining.
“So how long have you been together?” She pushed her glasses up her nose and carefully shaded in one of the swirls arching over the knuckle.
“Three years,” Shari replied, smiling sideways at her husband.
“I’m lucky you stuck with me.” Max kissed her temple. “I was also in a band at the time.”
“Oh no.” Autumn peered at him over the frames. “I have dated my fair share of musicians.”
“Yeah. But love is worth fighting for.” Max uncurled his left arm where the words were scrawled in script, with the I’s punctuated with little red hearts.
Shari and Max continued to relate their three-year relationship to her, his issues with alcohol and being faithful. Autumn listened with one ear, making the appropriate noises, but her heart wasn’t in it.
Sammi would have boarded the ten o’clock flight from Austin to Dallas that morning. It was only about a forty-five minute jump, throw in time to get from the airport home, he should arrive at the house any minute.
And find it empty.
Her gaze flicked to Max’s arm once more.
Is love really worth fighting for?
“All done,” Autumn announced not a moment too soon. She laid the machine down and cleaned Shari up.
“Oh my god, it’s beautiful.” Shari laid her other hand over her chest and admired the tattoo. “Thank you.”
“Thanks for letting me do them.” She wiggled her wedding set, still on her finger because she couldn’t part with them. Not yet.
“It’s beautiful, just like you,” Max whi
spered to his bride.
Autumn’s breath caught in her throat. She could hear Sammi’s voice in her mind, calling her Sunshine and telling her she was beautiful. Her heart rate kicked up ten speeds and panic gripped her tight.
She couldn’t lose that.
Not yet.
“I-I’ve got to go.” She stripped off her gloves in a rush.
“What’s wrong?” Shari asked, blinking at her.
“I’ve got to go. Sammi’ll be home soon and—that note—I’ve got to get that before he sees it.” She jumped to her feet. “Carly, I’ve got to go.”
“What’s wrong?” Carly called from the front desk.
Autumn grabbed her purse and slung it over her shoulder. “I’ve got to go,” she blurted again. “Can you?” She waved at the station.
“I’ve got it.” Pandora stepped in and started breaking down the setup.
“Here, let me bandage that up for you.” Kellie slid between Autumn and the couple, ripping open the Band-Aid.
“Go!” Mary shooed her out the back door.
“Thank you,” Autumn said through the lump in her throat.
“Go!” the three women said in unison.
Autumn rushed out the back door, checking the time on her phone. If she hurried, she might get to the house at the same time as Sammi.
* * * * *
Sammi stared at the swirling script. Even her handwriting seemed bubbly and full of life. A complete contradiction to the words.
I can’t live without love. I hope you care enough about me to let me go with some measure of grace.
There was more. It all spoke of a woman so full of emotion she was close to bursting—and his inability to communicate his love to her.
He’d read the letter through several times, but this time, looking at it in their bedroom, devoid of her touches, he could feel the loss. Without her, his life lacked color, expression or depth.
They hadn’t had a chance to live yet, and that fault was squarely on his shoulders.
He hadn’t fought to live.
He hadn’t fought his mother for her.
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