Inked in the Music

by Kitt Rose

  “You guys are that serious?”

  “He’s here with me, isn’t he? How bad is Lucas? I feel like you’re changing the subject on purpose.”

  “Oh no, I suppose I just don’t want to think about it too much. He’s sick, Zirah. It’s bad. I feel like such a bad mom. If I’d just paid more attention maybe…”

  “You can’t do that to yourself. Can we go visit him today?”

  “Yeah. Let me go check on Ash and we’ll head out. Meet me in the living room?”

  “How about we eat a little something first? I picked up sandwich makings and I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry.”

  She nodded and I stood, giving her a quick hug before heading back into the living room. Dennis had his jacket off and a pant leg rolled up, showing off his ink to my nieces and Steve. They all looked up when I came into the room.

  Dennis had been sitting on the couch. He stood and walked to me. “You should see Z’s ink. She’s on her way to having as much as I do.”

  I scoffed. “Not quite.”

  “You have tattoos? Zirah?” Steve sounded shocked.

  “Yeah. Legs and back. Dennis did them, designed them for me and everything.”

  Steve shook his head. “I’m not sure that I like you anymore, Dennis. Marking up my sister.”

  Dennis tensed next to me and I grabbed his forearm. “Steve, you don’t know what you’re talking about. Dennis was helping to cover my marks—my scars—and make them pretty.”

  Andy nodded. “Yeah, man, she showed me. Fucking Reggie.”

  Steve’s wife, Julie, scowled. “Watch your language, Andy.”

  “How about some lunch?” I tried to break the tension and with my brothers, food was a sure-fire way to do that. I ran out to the car and grabbed the bag of groceries, dropping it on the table once I got back inside. I rolled up my sleeves and started unpacking the sandwich fixings.

  “You stopped at Mr. O’s. You bring this guy in with you?” Steve asked. When I nodded, he laughed. “You just gave him a month’s worth of gossip.”

  “Yeah. I kind of figured.” I started a sandwich assembly line, lining up enough bread for everyone before slathering on some mayo. “Where’s Matt?”

  “At the hospital with Dad and Lucas.”

  I froze mid-swipe with a knife. “Ted’s here?”

  Steve swore under his breath and Dennis stopped in the middle of tying his hair back. He looked at me in question.

  “You don’t have to see him. We can call ahead and ask him to leave,” Christian said.

  “Why would he leave? No, it’ll be fine. I’ll be fine.” I didn’t sound convincing, even to my own ears. To distract myself, I went back to making the sandwiches.

  I was looking down when Dennis’s warm hands slid around my waist and his chest bumped into my back. His chin brushed my temple as he leaned down.

  “What’s going on?” he asked, lips skimming the shell of my ear, making me shiver.

  I shook my head and he pulled me tighter into him, nuzzling the side of my face with his. With a deep sigh, I said, “Ted and Heather got a divorce because Ted had a drinking problem.”

  Dennis went rigid behind me and I dropped the knife, turning in his arms and lacing my hands behind his neck. “Nothing happened, but he blamed me for the divorce for a while. Got really nasty verbally with me. I prefer to just avoid him now.”

  His face strangely blank, he buried it into my neck, stooping low to do so. His breath was hot and moist on my skin. “You’re gonna kill me, baby. I swear to God. Is there anything else I should know?”

  The universe was against me then. In some cosmically, epically bad timing, the dragon lady came. The trailer door banged open and the voice that haunted my childhood memories rang out.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Father

  Zirah

  “Where the hell is Heather?” My mother was drunk or high. Her words slurred. “Heather! Get your fat ass out here!”

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered into Dennis’s hair before stepping back. I kept one of his hands tight in mine, turning to face her. “Hi, Mom.”

  She wore a ratty bathrobe in a sickly mix of pink and brown that probably never should have been invented. Her greasy hair was plastered tight to her scalp, revealing her widening part. Eyeliner or mascara circled her eyes and smeared into the fine and not-so-fine lines surrounding her eyes. Her lipstick was half-gone, worn away from her chain-smoking and bleeding into the wrinkles around her mouth.

  Eyes that were bloodshot and hazy sharpened on me, widening in realization. A small smile curved her mouth and her lips parted. “Z…”

  I could pinpoint the second she registered Dennis standing next to me, with his less-than-white skin, tattoos, and long hair. A frown replaced the smile. “Who the hell’s Injun Joe?”

  I tightened my hand around Dennis’s in silent apology. “Mom, this is my boyfriend, Dennis.”

  “Your boyfriend?” There was a snarl in her words.

  Heather stopped the argument that was brewing, coming from the bathroom. Mom’s attention went from me to Heather and thunderclouds descended.

  “You!” Mom spat the words at my sister, pointing one shaking finger at her. “What did you do with it? What the fuck did you do with it, you ungrateful fat-assed bitch.”

  With a sneer that wasn’t anything like the sister I remembered, Heather raised her thin eyebrows until they disappeared into her hair. “What is it you think I did?”

  “You took it! Where did you put it? You tell me now or I’ll kick all you little shits outta my house.”

  For a moment, I saw Heather consider keeping her secret, but she just couldn’t afford to be kicked out. She needed cheap rent. She opened her mouth, presumably to apologize, but Dennis grabbed my hand and pulled me down the hall, the sounds of their fighting following us.

  Dennis leaned down and spoke in a low, urgent voice. “They can come back with us. Your sister and her kids. They can stay in my house until they can find a place of their own and I can stay with you in the meantime. I’m certain that between Ty, Joey, Hank, and me, we can find her a good job. And you know we have an awesome children’s hospital. For Lucas.”

  Whatever did I do to deserve this amazing man?

  I had to brush the stinging tears away, blinking rapidly while I tucked myself against his lean body, leaning up to kiss him. He met me halfway and I poured every ounce of gratitude and love I could muster into that kiss.

  “You amaze me,” I said.

  “Is that a yes?”

  “No, it’s a hell yes, and I love you.”

  The smile that crossed his mouth was positively feral. “Good, can I please go tell your mom to fuck herself?”

  “No. I … I think I need to. After everything—”

  “Say no more. I understand.”

  I marched back into the living room, head held high. Dennis’s hand in mine gave me the strength to keep my knees locked as I yelled above the fighting, “Hey! Mom! Get the hell out. You can’t talk to Heather like that. Never again. Leave. Andy, go with her and get all of Heather and the kids’ things.”

  Mom scoffed, but Heather took my attention from whatever filth she spouted next. Her eyes pleaded with me. “Zirah, I appreciate you sticking up for me but you can’t do this. I can’t… The boys need a roof over their heads.”

  “Yeah, I know. You come back with us. Dennis will come stay with me in my apartment and you and the boys can stay in his house until you find a job and somewhere else to live. I’ve got a lot of friends who’ll help you, and you can have whatever money I have until you’re on your feet. You can get away from the crap this town thinks of us because of her. And we have a great children’s hospital.

  “You don’t have to … obviously. But I would love you to be close again. I miss you and the kids. But if you don’t want to, I’ve got enough in my savings to get you into an apartment here. If that’s what you want.”

  She was speechless, but our mother wasn’t.
>
  “Oh, so you come back with some red-skinned boyfriend and think you’re a big deal now? ‘I’ve got friends,’” she said in mockingly cruel tones.

  “Yes. As it turns out, I have a lot of friends. People like me. Without you and the crap you put us all through. I love you Mom, and I appreciate the sacrifice you made to raise me, but you are the reason I have nightmares. You and your boyfriends did things to me that should have put you in jail. And I thought it was okay, which is even more fucked up.”

  Christian’s eyes bugged out of his head, “Holy crap, Aunt Z swore.”

  Ash, who’d come out of the bathroom with clean, gum-free hair somewhere in the tirade, grabbed Chris’s hand and looked up at him with big eyes. “And it was a really bad one too.”

  And with that, I giggled.

  Chris’s laughter followed, sweeping through the room like wildfire until only the scowling dragon-lady in the dingy bathrobe remained unaffected. Andy wiped a tear from his eye and shoved her out the door. Steve had to help him. Mom screamed every ugly word she knew—and she knew a lot of them, while they dragged her out the door.

  “So, what do you say, Heather? Want a fresh start?”

  Heather gulped air, calming the laughter. “Hell yes.”

  “Mom!” Ash yelled, chastising her mother for the swear word that would have gotten any of her children grounded for repeating.

  Heather laughed again. “I’m an adult, I can say it.”

  “All right, let’s go see Lucas, and then we can get you checked into the hotel for the night. We can figure out the rest of the details tomorrow. Everyone grab a sandwich and let’s head out.”

  Dennis shrugged his coat back on and we headed back out the door. Trent stayed behind as we wouldn’t all fit in one car. Dennis tossed me the keys and I climbed into the car, much to Heather’s surprise.

  “When did you get your license?”

  “Dennis taught me and I got my permit right before Christmas. I’ve got a test scheduled in a couple weeks.”

  “You do?” Dennis beamed. “You want me to come with you? You can use my car.”

  “Yeah, I’d like that.” I sent him a small smile before pulling out of the trailer park. “So, Ash… What’s new with you? How’s school, aside from bullies with gum—which by the way happened to me too.”

  “It did?” she asked and I glanced up into the rearview mirror to see her eyes wide with surprise.

  “Yeah, but Grandma didn’t try to get it out. She just cut off all my hair. Took Andy’s clippers and shaved my head. It was like an inch long all over.” I shook my head at the memory. “Thank goodness I look good in hats.”

  “I’d forgotten she did that,” Heather said softly, sadly. “I’m sorry, Z.”

  “Why are you sorry, Mom? You didn’t do it, did you?” Ash scrunched up her nose while Heather met my eyes in the mirror—sadness heavy in them.

  “No. I didn’t, baby, but I should have been there. I’d just had Chris and your dad and I were living in the city, not too far from where your dad is now. I should have taken you with me, Z.”

  “Heather, I’m going to say this once, and then I’m done. We don’t know what would have happened if you would have taken me with you. We can’t know.” My mind was spinning fast as a realization hit me. “I think … I think the way things are, how everything turned out, is the only way things could have gone. Everything happened the way it was supposed to. If it hadn’t, I never would have left. Never would have met Dennis.”

  I reached across the console to take his hand. He squeezed mine back and I took a deep breath in. “I’m done being mad. Done with regretting the past. You broke my trust and while we’re not okay, we’ll get there. So let’s get you moved down, and Lucas healthy, and then we can work on figuring out our relationship.”

  The scent of White Musk got stronger as Heather leaned forward and gripped my shoulder, squeezing. “You’re one of my best friends, Zirah. Always have been. And … and I’m proud to call you sister, or daughter. I don’t care… Well, I do care… It’s more, I just want you in my life.”

  Surprise flashed through me. She’d called me her daughter. In front of Ash. “Heather?”

  Somehow, she knew what I was thinking, “I had to tell them, Z. They wanted to know why you left. Why, when you were living not fifteen minutes away, you wouldn’t see us.”

  I felt like crud. Like an absolute, horrible person. “I’m so sorry. Ash, Chris, you’ve got to know it wasn’t you I didn’t want to see. I was confused and mad. I was really mad.”

  “They get it. We’ve talked a lot about it. And, before we get to the hospital, I wanted to ask you something. Think about it, but don’t answer me now. Do you—would you want to… Do you want to meet your daddy? He knows about you and if you want, I know he’d like to meet you. He asked me if you’d see him.”

  I don’t know how I kept the car on the road. Honestly, I couldn’t see the road in front of me. The sound of horns and Dennis saying my name softly made me realize I’d slowed down to a crawl, the speedometer barely over fifteen miles per hour.

  “Zirah, pull over.”

  Robotically, I did as he asked, pulling the car off the road onto the gravel shoulder. A blast of cold air whipped through my hair when Dennis shoved open his door and rushed around the car. He pulled me out of the seat and swept me into his arms, holding me and rocking me as traffic rushed by.

  I didn’t realize I was crying, didn’t even know why truthfully, until he wiped my face and hustled me into the passenger seat. Heather’s hands landed on my shoulders and she gave me an awkward hug from behind, the seat in between us.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t think it’d upset you,” she whispered.

  I nodded, numb, as Dennis started us back into motion. He kept casting worried glances my way.

  It took two tries before my voice surfaced, scratchy and slow with emotion. “I’m not upset. Not like that. I… He wants to meet me? Really?”

  “Yes, Z. Of course, he does. He’s always kept up with how you were. But he got divorced last year and that’s when he started asking to meet you. I think she wouldn’t allow it and now that he’s not with her…”

  I swallowed thickly, the movement painful. “I’ll have to think about it, Heather.”

  I’d never thought I was missing a father. Never really wondered about him, other than questioning who he was. It could be nice.

  But part of me was bitter, and probably always would be, but I was done giving in to that. I was done staring at the past and all its inconsistencies and errors. They weren’t what I thought they’d been. And as I’d said … they’d led me to Dennis.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Grateful

  Dennis

  I hated the way hospitals smelled. The scent of disinfectant stung my sinuses, and the underlying aroma of illness underneath set my stomach churning. I hated the way the lights were too bright and the pace of the people rushing down the halls too frantic. Really, I just hated hospitals.

  Zirah walked next to me, arms wrapped around her stomach, hugging her middle. I settled a hand on her waist and pulled her closer.

  She sighed, snuggling into my side. “I hate hospitals,” she murmured, eyes scanning the room numbers.

  I glanced down at her, surprised. “I was literally just thinking that. Guess great minds and all that.” Any humor I’d found in that joke fell flat as we crossed a hallway into the pediatric oncology area.

  A hollow burn gathered under my ribs at the knowledge that behind each door lay a sick child. A child who’d barely had a chance to live. Who was innocent but faced more than many hardened adults could bear. A kid who could be dying.

  Saying it wasn’t fair was a cliché, but that didn’t make it any less true.

  Zirah worried her hands. Her anxiety and fear a beacon that tore through my senses and shredded my composure. I struggled against the urge to spirit her way and wrap her in metaphorical bubble wrap. But her family needed her. I would stand by
her and help her be strong.

  The sight of her nephew, Lucas, pale and thin in a faded mint-green hospital gown, almost broke me. The poor kid’s eyes were squeezed closed, the television in the corner of the room muted and showing the colorful chaos of a cartoon. He had the look of a kid on the cusp of becoming a teenager. His ears were too big for his head, and the first stirrings of acne dusted his forehead and chin.

  Even still, he wasn’t a bad-looking kid. He had a long symmetrical face with eyes tipped up in a subtle nod to exotic ancestry somewhere in his genetics. The girls would fawn over the kid and his shaggy brown hair.

  “Hey, Luke,” Ash said brightly, climbing up onto the foot of his bed.

  Lucas’s eyes sprang open with the bouncing of the bed. I saw fatigue and fear in those pale blue orbs. It took him a moment to focus, but once his eyes found Z, they widened and a weary smile curved his lips.

  “Aunt Z!”

  She rushed over to hug him, holding him carefully, likely because of the crap attached to his arm.

  “I gotta tell you, Lukey,” she said. “You smell like turkey.”

  I had no idea what that meant, but he obviously did. The kid laughed.

  “Geez, Aunt Z, you’re supposed to be nice to the kid with leukemia, not make fun of me,” Lucas said.

  “Says who?” Z asked, pulling back.

  “Everyone.” His grumble and the hint of a smile said he was amused, not upset.

  “I want you to meet someone.” Z reached behind and grabbed my hand, pulling me beside her. “Dennis, this is Lucas. Lucas, this is my boyfriend Dennis.”

  “Hey, man, nice to meet you.” I held out a fist and Lucas bumped it. “I don’t think you smell like a turkey.”

  Z and Lucas laughed again, and Z said, “When Luke was six, we went to visit his grandma in the hospital, and on the way up to her room, he said that he didn’t want to hug her. Heather asked why and he said that sick people smelled like Stouffer’s turkey and gravy.”

  “Yeah, so every time I got sick, Aunt Z told me I smelled like a turkey,” he finished with a laugh.