I was dealt shitty cards in life. I wouldn’t wish my childhood on my worst enemy. But things changed for the better when I was ten. I was no longer a prisoner in the hell I had been living in.
Maureen and Charles swooped in, taking this broken girl into their home, showing nothing but unconditional love, and finally adopting me. But it was bittersweet. They may have saved me, but by doing so, I lost another person I loved. I lost my best friend, who I’d met when I was five years old. I lost him like I lost my father. Both snatched without warning from my shitty life.
One thing I've learned on this journey of life is when you find a best friend, you better hang on to them. Dig your heels in the dirt and hang on for dear life. I thought Brennan was my best friend, but he ended up stabbing me in the back. He couldn’t keep his mouth shut. He betrayed me. Or at least in the mind of a ten-year-old, he betrayed me, when in reality, he saved me.
After losing two important people in my life at such a young age, I’ve never allowed myself to get attached to people. I choose not to let people in. It’s easier that way. Less chance of being hurt. Focusing on my family and friends works for me. My motto is to keep my inner circle small. And by small, I mean Maureen, Charles, and Quinn.
My already fractured heart can’t tolerate being broken again. Therefore, I don’t do relationships with men. If your heart isn’t involved, it’s one less scar to walk away with. Lord knows I have enough of those marking my body.
Another reason I don’t get attached to anyone.
Chapter Two
Juliette
Making my way through the crowded, cherry-blossom-lined streets of Philly, I savor the scent carried on the warm breeze as I reach my favorite coffee shop. Standing in line, I place my order for my favorite fuel I need to keep my body from collapsing from exhaustion.
A few minutes pass, and Jordan, my usual barista, announces my name. “My lovely Juliette, when you saw your Caramel Macchiato, you fell in love and smiled.”
“Way to change the quote up, Romeo.” I smile and reach for my cup. Lifting it to my lips, I inhale the aroma and close my eyes. As I take my first sip, I savor the intense espresso flavor that hits my taste buds. “Perfect, just the way I love it.” This is my vice, heaven in a cup, and I just can’t get enough.
Jordan’s eyes study my face. “Anything for you, my love.”
Lifting my hand in the air, I wave goodbye. “Thanks. See you later when I’m due for my second dose.”
Pushing through the door, I can feel Jordan’s eyes on my back. When I look over my shoulder, his slight smile is aimed at me. Quinn is forever asking me why I won’t give Jordan a chance. Don’t get me wrong, he is a great guy, just not my type. I like my guys a little rough around the edges, and his are a little too neatly trimmed. I’d chew him up and spit him out. He’s asked me out a few times, and I’ve politely declined on each occasion. I don’t want to muddy the water between us. I enjoy his friendship, and we hang out quite a lot, not to mention I come here every day. Therefore, I prefer not to have things awkward between us.
The sun warms my body the moment I step out of the coffee shop. A gentle breeze sweeps across my face as I observe herds of people walking fast to get to work or students with their backpacks rushing to get to class.
I approach Novocain a few blocks away and notice the lights are on inside. Pushing through the front door, I see Charles at his station. I drop my bag on the unoccupied chair in the front of the shop. I’m praying I have a few empty spots in my appointment book today, so I can catch up on sleep in the office after the night I had.
Flicking through my phone to the music app, I connect it to the wireless speaker behind the counter. “Breathe” by Through Fire filters through the quiet shop.
Last night’s nightmare seemed to bring up thoughts of him. Someone I try not to think about. Every so often, he creeps into my thoughts, but I do my best to push them down deep. The less I think about him, the less I think about my childhood—a time in my life I wish didn’t exist.
It was the two of us against the world. We used to have it all. He was my savior, my best friend. I let him in, but then he left me all alone once again. He couldn’t keep my secrets. He betrayed me, and I was taken away.
All he had to do was keep his mouth shut, but he couldn’t. I was living in hell, but knowing I would see him every day made it all worth it.
I haven’t seen him since I was ten years old and taken away from Satan, his evil bride, and their demon spawn of a daughter.
Those five years I lived with Peggy and Don were hell. The things I endured while under their roof, no child should experience. It was literally a House of Horror. People treat their animals better than they treated the children placed in their care. I was never treated like a child. I was simply a paycheck to them. The more children they fostered, the more funds they received from the state.
My dreams often take me back to that first day.
We drove in a dark car for a while before we pulled up in front of a two-story brick house. Three kids ran around in the front yard, chasing each other, playing tag. The woman in the front seat, who told me to call her Ms. Cara, turned the car off and opened her door. She stepped out and walked around to the back where I was and opened the door. She reached her hand to me. “We’re here, Juliette. This is going to be your new home. Ms. Peggy and Mr. Don are really nice people.” I sat still, my hands twisted in my lap. I didn’t look up at Ms. Cara. I stared at my sneakers. Out of the corner of my right eye, I saw Ms. Cara kneel next to my seat. “I know this is hard, but I promise you will fit in here. They have a daughter about your age, her name is Brittany. There are two other boys, Johnny, who is seven, and Sam, who is nine.”
Ms. Cara took my hand and helped me out of the car. She went to the trunk, popped the lid, and grabbed the bag filled with all the clothes we could fit inside. I was told I could bring a few toys, but not much. I brought the blankie my dad gave me – that Mrs. Keller was able to make clean again and the Chrissy doll I got from Santa.
A man in jeans and a plaid shirt and a woman in a blue dress stood on the porch. Ms. Cara squeezed my hand while we walked up the driveway.
“This must be Juliette,” the woman spoke and kneeled down to my level. I curled into Ms. Cara’s leg, not looking at the lady.
“She’s a little shy. It’s been a rough few days for Juliette. She’ll need some time to adjust,” Ms. Cara told her.
The lady lifted her hand and moved a piece of hair from my face, tucking it behind my ear. “That’s understandable, poor thing.” Her eyes narrowed, and a smile played on her lips.
I pulled back from her, moving behind Ms. Cara’s body, hiding from the stranger. I didn’t like her. I wasn’t sure why, but I didn’t.
“Come on, sweetheart, let’s go look at your room. You’ll have your own room here.” Ms. Cara took my hand, and we walked into the house. The man held the door for us. The lady followed Ms. Cara and me. I turned and looked at her. She smiled, but she didn’t look happy.
Inside the house, there was a big room with a television, a couch, and chairs. The lady didn’t go up the steps; she walked past them and pointed to a closed door near the living room. The door had a sign with my name on it: ‘Juliette’s Room.’ The lady pointed to the paper and said, “Johnny and Sam made the sign for you.”
Ms. Cara squeezed my hand. “Thank you,” I whispered with a weak smile as my stomach flip-flopped.
“I’ll tell them you love it,” the woman said as she stared at me with dark eyes.
Ms. Cara walked in the room, and I kept hold of her hand. “This is all yours, Juliette.” She leaned down so she was my size. “Do you like it?”
I nodded my head but didn’t speak.
Ms. Cara placed my bag on the bed and turned to leave. I ran and clung to her leg. “Please don’t leave me, please,” I cried against her pants.
She ran her hands through my hair. “Sweetheart, I can’t stay. Ms. Peggy and Mr. Don are going to take good
care of you. I’ll come back to check on you, but you will be safe here with these fine folks.”
Ms. Cara smiled as she leaned down to talk to me. “Juliette, this is your home now.”
“Please,” I begged, tears running down my cheeks. “Please don’t go,” I sobbed.
Ms. Peggy walked over and pulled me away from Ms. Cara’s leg. “It will be okay, Juliette. This is your home now.”
I ran to a door in the room and pulled it open, then slammed it behind me. I scooted to the corner of the dark closet and pulled my knees to my chest, rocking back and forth.
“I want to go home,” I whispered. “This isn’t my home.”
I didn’t know how long I was in the closet, but when I came out, Ms. Peggy and Ms. Cara were gone. A plate with three Oreo cookies sat on the bed with a note with the word ‘hi’ written in red crayon.
I shoved a cookie in my mouth and walked over to the window, where I pulled the curtain to the side. It wasn’t as bright as it was when I got there. It must have been getting close to bath time, some stars were in the sky. The three kids from earlier still played in the front yard. A boy with red hair yelled, “Do you want to come out and play with us?” My eyes darted to where the boy was.
Another boy with black hair stood on steps across the street. He didn’t answer the boy in my front yard. He stood on his steps and stared at me in the window. He lifted his hand and waved at me.
I stepped back and hid behind the curtain. After a little bit, I moved the curtain back, and the boy still stood on his steps, staring at me.
That day was one of the worst days of my life, and one of the best. I only see him in my dreams now. It’s getting harder to remember what he looked like. Does he still have those piercing blue eyes? Those eyes always knew me better than I knew myself. He could take one look at me and know if I was having a bad day or not. Does he still have hair as dark as coal?
I was placed with Maureen and Charles when I was ten, and after two years, they officially adopted me. I wasn’t the easiest child to get along with when I went to live with them. They gave me the space I required and the love I needed. I don’t remember the exact moment I called Charles ‘Pops’ and Maureen ‘Ma,’ but it felt natural. Charles never asked or expected me to call him Dad. I’ve never had a mother. Mine left when she realized having a baby wasn’t what she thought. She couldn’t handle the responsibility of having an infant and left a few days after she brought me home from the hospital. Who does that? What type of woman can have a baby, and decide she didn’t want her? My father raised me until I was five, then I was ushered off to foster care when he died.
Neither pushed for me to call them anything, but they’ve loved me through my darkest times, and they deserve so much more than I can ever give them. So ‘Pops and Ma’ it is.
“What do I owe the honor of having my daughter in here this early?” Pops asks, jarring me from my thoughts.
“I have a lot of paperwork to finish before my first client, and I need to check on inventory. Why are you here early?”
“Randy’s coming in so I can finish his leg piece.”
“From what I’ve seen, it’s amazing.”
Pops has been working on Randy’s leg for months.
Gathering my bag and coffee, I walk toward the back of the shop. “I’ll be in the office, I have to get shit together for tomorrow.”
“Have you given much thought to my proposition?” Pops asks.
Pulling my lower lip between my teeth, biting my lip ring, I nod.
Pops wants to open another shop in an up-and-coming neighborhood. He was able to secure a property for a great price a few years back before real estate in the small neighborhood skyrocketed. He’s been holding on to the property with the hopes of expanding. I haven’t committed to the project yet, but I need to give him a definitive answer. I think it would be good for us.
“I think we should go forward with the renovations we discussed. We’ll have to hire a new crew to work there. Not to mention, one of us will have to run the place. We both can’t be here at Novocain.”
Pop’s eyes flash with something I can’t quite put my finger on. One brow goes up, along with the corners of his lips. “Jules, I hate to break it to you, but I began the process when we sat down and designed it. I knew you would eventually come around and agree to it. I already hired two artists to start when we open the doors of Uniquely Inked. You can help find others if you think we need more.”
My eyes widen in surprise. “You did what?”
“I went ahead with the project. I knew you would come around.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, processing what he said. This is my father; he knew I would be on board. As always, he knew I needed time to digest the thought of owning another shop.
“I can’t believe you did this.” I raise my brows at him, clearly surprised by his announcement. The shock of discovery hits me full force. “How did you know I would agree?”
I stand there, blank, amazed, and very confused about how we went from discussions of opening another shop to him actually going behind my back and executing our plans.
Pops gathers the bottles of colors he needs for his customer, setting them on his station. “I know my daughter. You needed time to process everything. This was an opportunity neither of us could pass up.”
I nod. “I think we’re ready for new adventures.”
Part of me wants to be angry that he went forward without consulting with me, but he’s right. I would have been hesitant. I would have found a million excuses why the timing wasn’t right.
A small smile touches my lips. It’s time to take the bull by the horns and follow our desire to grow our business.
“You can keep running this place like you’ve been the last few years. I’ll make the switch to the new shop if you’re okay with that.”
Pops walks over to where I stand in the hallway. He leans down, placing a kiss on my forehead. “You will never know how proud I am of you, Jules.”
Looking up into his eyes, they say everything he doesn’t. Tiptoeing to reach his cheek, I place a soft kiss on it. “Trust me, I know. Thank you for always believing in me.”
“You’ve always been braver than you believe, stronger than you appear, and smarter than you give yourself credit for.”
Pushing off his chest, I laugh. “You’re such a softy.”
He laughs. “Only when it comes to you and your mother.”
Charles and Maureen gave me the greatest gift anyone could give me. They believed in me.
Chapter Three
Juliette
Yesterday was crazy at the shop. I was able to do inventory and place an order for supplies in between my appointments and two walk-ins.
Unlocking the door to the shop, I push the door open, then turn around and lock it behind me. Not bothering to turn on the light in the window which reads, ‘Yes, it hurts!’, I leave the shop dark. My eyes flutter when a bright light blinds me. Irritation hits when I notice the light in the piercing room was left on overnight. I’m going to ream Rachel out when I see her tomorrow. Rachel has been with us for three years. We met when she came in to get a tattoo. She had struggled with an eating disorder for years. After finishing rehab, she wanted a tattoo to celebrate her accomplishment. She walked out an hour and a half later with ‘Without struggle, there is no progress’ permanently etched on her right ribs.
I wanted to help her out, so I offered her a job. We needed someone to work the front desk. She showed interest in piercing after watching me do them, so Pops and I offered to pay for the series of training classes about sterilization and safety. She did her apprenticeship here at Novocain under my supervision for the past two years and got her license.
Rachel has other responsibilities here besides giving our customers kickass piercings. She keeps the common areas of the shop clean and helps the artists with scheduling their appointments. Usually, we coordinate our own appointments, knowing how long each piece may take, but Rachel rides our asses to ma
ke sure they are straight in the computer.
The shop is eerily quiet, contrary to the usual loud atmosphere. Novocain is usually closed on Sundays, but yesterday a woman called asking if I could meet her here today. She explained she didn’t feel comfortable coming in while it was filled with customers. After hearing the desperation in her voice, I agreed.
I gather my pencils and my sketch pad, and head to the back of the shop to the designated quiet room. Dean, one of our artists, took it upon himself to paint the room and place four drawing tables at each corner of the room, giving each person privacy to do their sketches and stencils. A large round table sits in the middle of the room, surrounded by six chairs. This room is also the breakroom, which makes me think Dean didn’t think the whole thing through.
After sketching for an hour, I finalize the design I need for my client next week and head back up front to my station to begin setting up for my appointment. Shortly after, a knock at the door gets my attention. Walking over to the door, a small woman with long brown hair pulled up in a messy bun stands on the other side. Turning the lock, I open the door. “Hi, I’m Stephanie. You must be Mills?” she asks.
I’m known around here as Mills. No one calls me Juliette except my parents. While at the shop, Pops calls me by our last name. I don’t think Juliette fits my boisterous personality.
“Yes, that’s me. Please come in.” I extend my hand and step to the side to allow her to enter, locking the door behind her.
Stephanie walks over to the wall, admiring the photos above the chairs in the waiting area. Large framed photos of our favorite pieces sit above the chairs, showcasing my artists’ work.
“These are amazing,” she muses.
“Do you have any?” I ask as I walk behind the counter.
“No, this will be my first.”
“Do you have any idea what you’re looking for?”
She shakes her head. “Not really.”
Beautifully Scarred Page 2
