Out of the Ashes (Marked as His Book 1)

by Rossi, Monica

  “Fern,” The woman said the name like she was tasting the word, “that’s just gorgeous. To match that gorgeous face of yours,” she squinched her nose at Fern like she was a 3 year old, Fern had to smile back at that, “You can call me Cora.”

  Fern kept the smile on her face, but inside she felt herself tighten. ‘You can call me’ is not the same as ‘My name is’, she knew that all too well and suddenly she looked at the woman a little more closely.

  No bruises could be seen along the creased and inked skin of her arms, but the tattoos could be hiding that. Her eyes looked happy and carefree, her short dyed reddish brown hair was done and sprayed into the perfect tall coif seen on so many older ladies. There didn’t seem to be anything amiss, but still, the way that she’d phrased it sent warning bells tripping through Ferns body.

  Cora flipped the third binder open in front of her, showing pages and pages of retro mod drawings that looked like maybe Lisa Frank had gotten a hard edge and ended up tattooing. They were all very professionally done, but they just weren’t her style. It was just too sugary sweet and girly, even the skulls and cross bones were done in bright shades of yellow and turquoise with little pink hearts adorning the edges of the design, and that wasn’t what Fern felt like inside.

  “I think I liked the designs in the first book better,” she said closing one book and opening the other.

  “Sure,” Cora said, “Sandy’s artistic flavor isn’t for everyone.”

  Fern nodded, somehow she’d known it was a woman who’d done the work in the last binder, that or an extremely fabulous man.

  “Let me just go check on the boys and see how long they’re going to be, we might need to just sign you up for a consultation instead of standing around here waiting forever.”

  Fern nodded and continued to browse, this artist really had a watercolor feel to most of his work. Sure, there were a few that were more traditional styles, but for the most part it was just one amazing piece of work after another.

  She realized this work must cost more than the average tattoo and then she began to worry if she really was going to be able to afford it. She had no idea how much a tattoo would cost on average, much less how much a piece from an artist like this would cost.

  Maybe coming here was a bad idea. It probably was. She should probably just go before she wasted anyone’s time.

  “Dax said he will be out in just a few minutes,” Cora rounded the counter and resumed her position on the stool, legs crossed to show off the maximum amount of leg and audacious length of her high heels.

  “Oh well, I should probably think about this a little bit longer, I’ll just come back at a later date and book a consultation, but I just can’t seem to decide what –“

  “We’ve got a nervous one huh?” asked a deep male voice from behind her, the rumbling timbre seemed to travel the length of her spine and back again before she could turn around and see who the sound belonged to.

  “It seems like,” Cora nodded, “She was fine up until I left to put some hustle in your step.”

  “Hmmmm,” he said noncommittally, looking Fern up and down from the tip of her head to the bottom of her feet. She suddenly felt completely naked, despite the jeans and very respectable high cut tank top she’d worn to the shop. His gaze lingered on her chest and she felt herself flush before getting angry.

  He shouldn’t just leer at his customers like that. Of course she’d worn a tank top to the tattoo shop so she could show them where she’d like to get a tattoo, that didn’t give him permission to stare.

  And it wasn’t like she was staring back, she couldn’t help it if she’d noticed the fact that his tee-shirt seemed to conform to every muscle on his body, of which there seemed to be plenty. And she also couldn’t help that she noticed how nicely his hazel eyes crinkled while he stood there smiling at her as she tried to get a damn word out of her mouth. And stuttering was a perfectly normal reaction to being startled from behind. And this man was entirely too attractive to be sneaking up on people anyway.

  Fern took a deep breath.

  “What I am trying to say is, I thank you for your time but I’ll just come back another day.”

  The corner of his mouth turned up and she felt her heart begin to race in response. It really was ridiculous how good looking he was. Regular people shouldn’t be allowed to walk around like that. There should be an attractiveness level guide and anyone over a certain point was immediately shipped to Hollywood, which would prevent things like this from happening.

  “Sure, just tell us what you want, we’ll work up some art, and Ma will schedule you to come in and approve the artwork. Then we’ll schedule the actual tattoo. No need to be this nervous for at least another week or two.”

  He’d mistaken her reluctance for fear of the needle instead of fear of the cost. And she had just kept letting him talk because watching his perfectly shaped lips move was just too enticing to interrupt.

  “No, it’s just that – “ she started before he broke her off, his smile widening, flashing the whitest teeth Fern thought she’d ever seen.

  “What kind of tattoo are you hoping for? Did you see something in one of these binders you liked?”

  Fern let out a breath, he wasn’t going to let her object. “I had been thinking about a phoenix rising out of the ashes, and I really liked the style in this binder. The water color look is just amazing,” she saw his smile dim and immediately went in to apology mode, “I know a phoenix is probably trite and overdone, maybe you have some suggestions as to what you think I’d like.”

  “No, a phoenix is fine, it’s popular, but there’s a reason they’re popular, because they’re beautiful. Where and what size were you thinking about?”

  She’d been thinking about a small tattoo on her shoulder, but she wouldn’t mind having something bigger on her back if the work was going to be such high quality. Nonetheless, she still had to think about cost.

  She spread her fingers a couple of inches apart and put them up to her shoulder. Surely such a small tattoo wouldn’t be out of her price range.

  The model slash tattoo artist nodded his head, “We’ll work something out. Get with Ma and schedule a day to come in and see if you like what we come up with.”

  He nodded again at ‘Ma’ and turned his full gaze back to her, giving her a smile that could have impregnated her if she hadn’t been in public, as it was she felt her knees go all quivery, and then he just walked away.

  She turned an accusatory gaze back to ‘Ma’, “Your son?”

  “Something like that,” the old bat cackled, “he’s a good lookin’ one, ain’t he? But look, you can’t go all googly eyes like that over a man, him or anyone else. He’ll think you’re too easy to catch and he won’t even try to chase ya. What you’ve got to do is make them think you’re not interested so they can make you interested, ya know honey?”

  Fern felt her face light on fire. Surely she had turned the most obscene shade of red. Had she been that obvious? “I uh, uh, well, I,” she stumbled. How exactly was she supposed to tell this woman that it’d be a cold day in hell before she ever wanted a man to chase her ever again?

  “Don’t worry about it, there’s always next time. When would be good for you to come back?”

  She made a new appointment and walked out a little dazed. Nothing had gone exactly like she’d expected it after she’d walked through the door of the little shop.

  ***

  “I call dibs,” Dax’s voice was hard, there was no room for negotiation.

  “For God’s sake Dax, she liked Joker’s artwork and you boys aren’t twelve anymore.”

  “I don’t care, I’m calling dibs,” Dax crossed his arm and dared someone to disagree with him.

  Joker looked up from the biker’s arm where he was busy tattooing a nude pin up, legs in the air, pinky playfully stuck in the corner of her mouth, and shrugged casually.

  “I don’t care man, but she must be something else for you to try to horn in on my customers.
” Joker laughed, nudging the biker with his elbow before going back to work.

  “She’s not a client yet, but when she is, she’ll be my client,” Dax said before turning and walking out of Joker’s room.

  Ma and Joker exchanged meaningful glances across the biker’s bandanaed head. Dax didn’t set his mind on much but when he did, there was no changing it.

  That had been weird. Really weird. Fern didn’t think much about men other than to note their presence so that she could try to avoid them. Having lived the life she had, no one would really blame her. And even if they did, she didn’t care, she had her reasons.

  But that guy, Joker must have been his name, he’d just been way too attractive. How was any woman supposed to ignore a man who looked like that and pretend he didn’t exist?

  With his bright, flashing smile and his perfectly crinkling eyes and his dark brown hair, maybe a little too long, but definitely adorable curls that looked just long enough to…

  Fern shook her head. She didn’t have time to be fantasizing about some random man. She was going to concentrate on the sights and sounds and smells coming from the neighborhood around her as she walked home.

  And there certainly was enough to keep her attention. People were out and about, the afternoon sun shining bright, it was the perfect end to the day. Ahead she saw families and friends sitting on little cinder block porches, catching the fall breeze. Across the way some boys were hanging out in the driveway playing ball and using language she wasn’t entirely sure was appropriate for people their age. Then she passed some ladies talking across their overgrown, and yet picturesque fence. And the smell of meat cooking and the sound of someone’s music bumping a little too loud permeated the entire atmosphere.

  Fern caught herself smiling. She actually loved it here. Who would have thought that after living her whole entire life in upscale neighborhoods that the beautiful poverty of what most would call a ghetto would be the only place she’d ever been at peace. Or as much at peace as she could get, considering her situation.

  And that made it all that harder to contemplate leaving, but that’s exactly what she had to do. She didn’t know how long she should stay in one place, and she’d already been there long enough. Long enough for it to become home. But she knew she couldn’t stay forever and she didn’t want to have to jerk her daughter out of school in the middle of the year once she started preschool.

  But that wasn’t for another year. She had another year to try to figure things out. Another year to worry about it and obsess over whether or not she was doing the right thing. Another year for the worry and guilt to eat away at her.

  “Hey Fern, I got you some of that corn bread you seemed to like so good last Sunday.” Across the street an old weathered lady in a huge sunhat sat on her porch rocking back and forth as she called out to Fern.

  “You want me to come get it now Miss Lola?” she called out extra loud so the woman could hear her.

  “No honey, I want you to let it sit here, uneaten, til it goes stale. Of course I want you to come get it and take it to that cute little miss for supper. Go on head in and get it, it’s on the stove.”

  Fern had already started up the concrete walkway while Miss Lola talked and received a lash on the backside with the rolled up magazine she used to reprimand her old lazy dog that was perpetually asleep on the porch.

  So far Fern could count three times she’d been swatted with it and exactly zero times she seen it used on the dog. Maybe Miss Lola just used the dog as a cover so she could go around hitting people with rolled up periodicals.

  She grabbed the tinfoil covered plate and stepped back onto the porch, half expecting to get swatted again for letting the screen door slam on her way out.

  “Thank you Miss Lola, I’ve got just the thing to have this with at home.” She beamed down at the old lady, she was going to have to go online and find out how to make one of those really thin layer cakes and give one to Miss Lola. Everyone in the community had been kind and welcoming to them, but Miss Lola went above and beyond.

  “You gone be at church Sunday? With Little Miss?”

  “Yes Ma’am,” she had actually planned on not going. Church was a three hour affair and she was hoping to stay in and see if she could convince Queen Bee to watch something other than Dora the Explorer.

  “Good, you coming to my daughter’s house for lunch after too. No arguing.”

  “But Miss Lola I can’t I told…”

  “I told you no arguing!” she held up the rolled up magazine menacingly and Fern smiled and shrugged.

  “Alright Miss Lola, I’ll see you then.”

  “That’s what I thought, and girl, put your youngin’ in a dress this Sunday. We ain’t heathens round here like they is wherever you come from.”

  Fern laughed off the old ladies lecturing. She’d learned that despite her gruff tone, Miss Lola was a softy. “I might not be able to convince her to come if a dress is involved,” Fern called behind her as she made her way back down the walkway.

  “Lord a’mercy, who is the Mama? What in the world has gotten into …”

  Fern let her admonishments trail off as she got further away, a smile big and bright on her face.

  She was going to miss this when she eventually had to leave. It was the first time she’d ever really felt like part of a community.

  But she had another year to enjoy it, then who knew what would happen.

  ***

  The smell of food cooking hit her as soon as she unlocked the door and walked in.

  “Mama! Mama!” a cheerful blob of blonde curls came bouncing around the corner and leapt into her arms. She scooped her up one handed but the maneuver threatened to make her drop the gifted plate of cornbread in the process.

  She inhaled the smell of her daughter’s hair which was a mixture of coconut, sunshine, and that special something that was all Katy.

  “Hey now, what’s this for? I’ve only been gone an hour or so,” she sat the child down on the floor and cupped her chin. She welcomed the hug, but had hoped they were getting over the crippling separation anxiety that she’d battled since she was a baby.

  “Watcha’ doing now knobby head? I was tellin’ you to go wash up your grubby little fingers. The food bout done, ya hear me say it again?” Seanna wiped her hands on the dish towel and flipped it over her shoulder just the same as she probably did a hundred times a day.

  “You didn’t have to cook Seanna,” but Fern was beyond happy she had.

  “And I knows that too. But little mouths has to eat jus’ like da big’uns, and that un,” she nodded her head towards the bathroom where Katy noisily sang a Sid the Science Kid song while washing her hands, “Likes my food better an yours, you know dat?”

  Fern laughed, not taking the jab to heart, “Well that’s the truth of it.”

  “Ain’t it though? Whatcha got there?”

  “Cornbread, Miss Lola sent it. She was on the porch ready to pounce on me as I walked by.”

  Seanna took the cornbread and eyed it, “Well we be eatin’ it since the Lord knows it be wrong to waste it, but the Lord also knows that I be making the better cornbread.”

  “Hmph,” Fern made a little coughing.

  “Watcho sayin? You ain’t saying Miss Lola’s cornbread be better an mine, is that what you sayin?”

  “I haven’t said a thing Seanna, you know your cornbread is divine. The best in the whole town. In the whole state even.”

  “You get out here right now. I ain’t even got to look at your face no more.”

  She knew Seanna wasn’t serious, just as Seanna knew that anything negative she ever had to say about the woman would always be a joke, because without her she and her daughter wouldn’t be here in this small little apartment. With worn carpet and rosy pink walls that weren’t in style anywhere on Earth, and cabinets that were missing some knobs, and a bathroom only big enough to turn around in, it wasn’t much, but it was more warm and welcoming than any place Fern had ever lived before.<
br />
  Without Seanna, not only might she have not had this apartment, she might not even be alive. And who knows what would have become of Katy if Fern were gone.

  No, Seanna would never ever hear a real harsh word from her mouth, she owed her too much for that. But they had a connection that went above and beyond what was owed. And that was the love of family chosen.

  “Why does mama have to get out? Don’t you be mean to my mama and anyway I’m going with her!” Katy stood at the door, her little fists clenched on her hips and her face fierce.

  Seanna and Fern both laughed at the serious look on the child’s face.

  “No baby, me and Seanna were just playing. She thinks I said Miss Lola’s cornbread is better but I said no such thing. I’m much smarter than that.” Fern said, pulling the child into her lap.

  “Why are you smarter than that? Miss Lola makes the best cornbread ever. I ate it all up in one big gobble last time we ate at her house. That’s what she said anyway. I remember I took bites and I didn’t gobble at all because that’s rude and we don’t eat that way at the table because you said we’re not cave peoples who are called nannerballs.”

  Fern looked at the other woman and they couldn’t do anything but burst out laughing. Nannerballs indeed.

  Fern felt a deep sense of contentment, here with these two people, the people she loved more than anyone on earth. She had her people, and she had her little apartment, and she was relatively sure she was safe for the moment.

  It was more than she thought she’d ever have. It was more than she’d asked for in her prayers. It was enough.

  Everything always felt like it was sitting on top of everything else at Ma’s house. Including the people.

  Dax sat at the crowded table with Joker’s current fling’s knee pressing into him on one side and Sandy’s tiny little elbow jammed into his waist on the other side. Nothing new about being crowded, the table only sat 4 and there were five of them when everyone was home; but both Joker and Dex had decided to bring a friend home for Sunday dinner.