“Yeah. Maybe next week.”
Pete stumbled out the studio door and the ensuing silence was choking. Renn was a few feet away, back to me, but when he spoke, I heard him. “I’m sorry you had to see that, Sadie. You’ve caught me and him in a few difficult moments.”
I stood up and went to him, waffling my arm awkwardly for a few seconds before putting a hand on his back. Renn leaned into my touch as I reassured him. “Don’t worry about it. If Pete isn’t embarrassed to air things out in front of me, I don’t see why you should be.” I squeezed his upper arm. “If you don’t mind me asking…what’s the deal with you guys, anyway?
“Honestly, I can’t say. He’s just sort of always been this way. After my dad’s accident, it was obvious Mary was drowning trying to grieve and take care of the boys. I already told you I acted a little crazy then. I remember Pete tried to help at first, but after Mary died, he just stayed away. It’s like, he’s been around, but never reallyhere, if you know what I mean.”
Did I know what he meant by someone being a ghost in their own family? Did I understand how a person could fade into the background? Renn didn’t realize how loaded that question was. The treatment I’d received during my childhood and later from Henri had allowed me to perfect my technique of beingthere but not there. I wondered what had triggered it for Pete. He clearly loved his nephews, enough to keep clumsily dipping a toe in, but something kept him away.
Archie had a more succinct way of putting it.
“What do you mean you don’t know, Renn? Bottom line is, your uncle is a massive prick, and that’s the end. Your dad was a saint, bringing Pete into the business and looking out for him. Thomas always made excuses for him the same way you do now. But there’s no good reason Pete never stepped up for Robbie and Gage. He’s a selfish bastard, plain and simple. Not much more to it than that.”
I was stunned by Archie’s sudden vehemence. Renn was not. “Don’t be so hard on him, Arch. He can be unreliable, sure, but there are moments when he’s okay. Hehasbeen making more of an effort lately. Besides, Dad loved him.”
Renn leaned heavier into my side, seeking support since Archie had brought Thomas into the discussion.
“Your dad was a great man, and he loved his brother way more than Pete deserved,” Archie said this with such fierce finality that Renn and I were both taken aback.
I looked at Archie—his arms crossed, eyes and countenance blazing with sympathy and indignation on Renn’s behalf. And in that moment, I would have bet a month’s worth of tips at Hal’s that the mysterioussomethingthat had kept Pete away from his nephews was not a mystery to Archie.
A few hourslater, the tension preceding Pete’s exit was swallowed by the elation I felt at seeing my almost finished tattoo. In the final panel, the vibrant lotus appeared as though it had a hundred degrees of blue in it, all bursting off my skin. The ouroboros looked powerful as well, intertwined with the flower and announcing itself triumphantly. Most of the ouroboroses—ourobori?—I’d seen online were black and gray, but mine was a riot of greens, browns, and oranges. That description sounded horrible when I said it in my head, like some awful 1970s rec room, but what was tacky coloring for shag carpeting and artificial wood panels made for beautiful ink on my thigh.
“Man, I am proud of this one.” Renn was examining my leg, checking for any imperfections. “You’ll need to come back in a few weeks for one last check, and I’d like to take pictures for my portfolio, but I can’t see any immediate need for touch-ups.”
I was still laying stomach down on the table but doing my best to admire the tattoo over my shoulder. I couldn’t believe we were almost at the end of this journey. Throughout my early twenties, I’d secretly wanted a tattoo but had hesitated because it was just so damn permanent. After a childhood spent not calling attention to myself, risk-taking was not in my repertoire of common behaviors. When other girls in college had been getting cute little butterflies on their bellies and inspirational words on their wrists, the most I’d ever ventured was henna that lasted two weeks. In Boston, I’d brought up the topic with Henri once, early in our relationship while I’d still been dictating most of my appearance, floating the idea of getting a small piece on my ankle. He’d looked at me with such disgust I’d felt ridiculous for even asking.Seriously, Sadie, do I look like a man who dates a woman with tattoos? Can you imagine if I brought a tattoo girl home to my parents?The irony, of course, was that Henri himself had his phoenix tattoo, but he’d explained to me he’d done it in a fit of rebellion at eighteen and regretted it.
But now I realized I’d had it all backward. Immovable though it may be, my tattoo was a constant reminder I could grow in my life, and it symbolized the strength I wanted to project. Keeping my rosy-hued skin untouched would have been more permanent, my unadorned thigh a lifetime nod to my inability to take risks or change. Renn’s masterpiece wasn’t the blemish snobs like Henri thought it was. It was a monument to my ability to shift, to heal.
Archie inspected my tattoo. He’d said goodbye to his client an hour ago and had been lingering around cleaning up his station, staying to support Renn to this finish line. Like Pete, Archie had made several comments about how enthusiastic Renn seemed about my project. I knew he had reservations about how close I was to his friend, but I also knew it pleased him to see Renn so lively, and that his concern stemmed from love.
“That looks wicked.” Archie leaned over me and lifted a small magnifying glass. “I like what you did with the navy color on the leaves. Must have been a bitch to get that detail in.”
“Thanks, Arch. Leave it to you to pick out the hardest shit right off the bat. I totally thought those chains would get me, but you’re right, it was the navy tips on that lotus.”
Archie hummed in reply and moved back toward his station as Renn put the protective plastic on my thigh. I was not looking forward to a few days from now, when my leg would be itching so badly I’d want to claw my skin off, but for now, feeling the way I did and seeing the pride in Renn’s face—it was all worth it.
Renn helped me to my feet. And as he stood smiling at me, both of us radiating satisfaction from our joint venture, it seemed the most natural thing in the world for him to pull me into his arms, rocking us back and forth. As I rested my cheek on his shoulder, it wasn’t passion that had my blood pumping faster in my veins. It was confidence.
My car had been making some strange noises earlier that day, so I’d played it safe and taken an Uber to my appointment. I was about to request my ride home when Pete came back to the shop. He looked sheepish, holding a brown carrier tray of Starbucks cups as he set a grande black coffee in front of Renn. A peace offering. He shuffled over to Archie and handed him a Venti cold cup that looked like something a teenager would order. I wasn’t sure what it was, but there were chocolate swirls visible along the sides and whipped cream spilling from the domed lid. Archie seemed like he still wanted to give Pete the finger, but the sugar must have been too enticing because he settled for an acknowledging grunt.
Pete came my way next. “Sadie, I didn’t know what you like, so I got an iced soy latte and a hot mocha. Hopefully, one of them works.”
I wasn’t in the mood for either, but didn’t want to detract from Pete’s overture. I grabbed the latte with a thanks. Pete stepped back to admire my tattoo. He wasn’t an artist, but he knew enough to comment on the intricacy of the lotus’s shading.
Our peaceful interlude was interrupted when the entrance to Studio Obscurum crashed open a minute later, followed by a furious Robbie. He slammed the door shut so hard it rattled the little statue of a skeleton holding a black rose on the nearest shelf.
“Robbie! What the hell?” Renn took a moment to process his brother’s presence in the space. “I thought you were supposed to be at Ryder’s.”
“We were going there.” The twelve-year-old practically spat. “But Lydia said we could stop by the house to grab my bathing suit.”
“Okay…and?”
“And that little asshole got into my shit again!” Robbie’s chest heaved and he looked glassy-eyed. I remembered how big everything seemed at his age. But if I would have talked to my grandma the way Robbie just spoke to Renn, she would have…actually, I had no idea what she would have done because there is no way in hell I would have ever talked to her like that. Robbie held no deep-seated fear that acting like a belligerent pain in the butt would make Renn stop loving him.
Renn took a deep breath and crossed his arms. “First, you need to calm down and check your language. I can tell you’re upset, so I’ll let what you’ve said pass, but the next curse word puts you on restriction for a week.” Robbie grumbled but didn’t say more, so Renn continued. “I’m assuming you’re talking about Gage?”
“Of course I’m talking about Gage!” Robbie wailed, waving his arms in frustration. “It was so obvious when I opened the drawer with the bathing suits he’d been in my room.”
