Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty-Four

Callie

I didn't want to wake up today, and I knew it wouldn't end well. I could feel it in my bones. Beau didn't deserve to die before he was eighteen, not when I've done so many shitty things. Why wasn't it me? Everyone could have moved on if it was me. I honestly think being hit by a bus would have felt better than how I feel now. I'm numb and yet there's a pain coming from so deep inside me I need to feel it on the outside. That's when it hits me—maybe I should get a tattoo.

Walking into the kitchen, I find Delilah cooking muffins. "Do you know where Eddie is?" I ask. She always seems to know where everyone is.

"He left for a meeting. He said he wouldn't be long."

"Okay, thanks. I might call Jen and see what she's doing," I lie. I wouldn't call her to take me. But instead of waiting for Eddie, I'll surprise him when I get back. I'll try the place he got his, and I hope they have time if I have no appointment.

"Welcome to Big Moe's House of Ink," says a beautiful woman covered in tattoos.

"Um, hi. I'd like to get a tattoo."

"Well, you're definitely in the right place. Do you know what you're wanting to get?"

"I really didn't think about that—I acted on impulse. My son, Beau, passed away, so I want something for him, but also something different," I say, holding back the tears.

She hands me a tissue and leads me into a back booth.

"This is my boyfriend, Dex. He's amazing, if I say so myself," she says, looking at him. "Dex, this is..."

"Callie."

"She came in looking to get a memorial tattoo of sorts for her son, and I know you'll do it justice like you did mine," she says.

"Can I see it?" I ask her. She turns her back to face me, and Dex helps her lift the back of her shirt. I don't know what I was expecting, but her tattoo is amazing and has so much detail. You can see the layers from a skull to a face and a mask, but you can also see the levels of sadness. It's a powerful piece of art.

"I'm speechless," I say

"What do you think you want, and where?" Dex asks.

"I'm not really sure, but I have a quote I'd like incorporated." I hand him the piece of paper with the quote that Delilah left me, as I really want to believe I can find the strength to get through today.

"How about, if you're comfortable, you tell me about Beau, then maybe we can come up with something together?"

How do you explain to a stranger how beyond amazing someone was? I'm used to telling my story to others, and for some reason, when I look at Dex, I can see the slightest hint of sadness. He looks at me as if he understands my pain. I start from the beginning, about having Beau so young and my addiction.

It's been hard to talk about Billy, and not until recently have I been able to talk about him and remember the good times we shared. I wonder if I'll ever feel that way about Beau?

Dex asks me some questions about me and Beau, then pulls out some paper, and I try to watch over his shoulder as he draws something. After a few minutes, he spins around in his chair to face me.

"So, I have an idea, and you can tell me it sucks if you don't like it. I was thinking of doing it on your ribs, but it would be super painful."

"Pain isn't an issue." I need to feel pain today. I need to not feel like someone is squeezing my heart and slowly tearing it from my chest.

"Just have to warn you, I've seen grown men run from how painful it is."

"Pussies, that's what they are?—"

"Ruby!" Dex chastises her.

"What?" she says. He just looks at her and raises an eyebrow. "Fine, I'm going now, anyway. Apparently, my best friend's a moron and can't find his keys," Ruby says in an amused tone. Dex just laughs and says he'll pick up Harlow after he finishes my tattoo.

"Sorry about that. Now, I was thinking of this. Picture it with watercolours of blues, and maybe yellow and pink." He lays the drawing on the table and tears fall freely down my face. "When you told me about Beau and the way he looked at life, I thought, what better than a feather, which symbolises death in a way. The birds breaking off at the top are like he found his wings, and then the writing along the feather."

"It's perfect," I sob.

He calls over a female employee and asks her to get a privacy screen set up. Once he's set everything up and the screen is blocking the view of the shop, Dex asks me to remove my top and lay on my side; he wants to free hand the outline to fit with my curves. I turn my phone off so Jen can't blow it up when she realises I went off on my own and have done something stupid. She wouldn't say it that way, but it's what she will mean. Today I don't care. If I want to do something reckless and stupid, then I will.

After what feels like hardly any time at all, Dex has finished drawing on me and lets me know that if I need a break at any stage to let him know and he can stop. As the needles hit my skin, it's a welcome release. Each movement of the machine draws me into the present. It's the first time in days I've felt anything.

Maybe two hours pass before Dex stops and puts down the tattoo machine, then looks down at me. I've been trying to hide the tears, but actually feeling something has cleared my mind. I'm so broken from losing Beau, and though my heart is a shattered mess, there's a small part of it which doesn't want to beat in sadness but beat for love, and I feel selfish. How can I think of being happy without Beau here? But Eddie makes me happy, so damn happy inside I feel like a lovesick teenager.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

"I don't know. I thought the physical pain would help me feel something?—"

"But it's brought your brain back to reality and all the emotions are too much?" he says, and now I know for sure that he understands what I'm going through.

"Did you lose a child?" I ask, not sure if it's really appropriate. "I'm sorry, that was rude of me."

"I lost my wife, but it could have been my daughter," he says, putting on a new pair of gloves and starting the machine again. "Amanda was amazing and my soul mate. She was pregnant, and our wedding day was everything we'd ever dreamed it would be. We had an accident, and I had to choose who to save. I picked our daughter. I know it was selfish, and I wanted to pick Amanda too. It led to some stupid choices, but I'm good now, and I have my daughter, Harlow, and my amazing girlfriend who you met earlier."

"I'm so sorry for your loss," I say. I couldn't image how hard it would have been for him to choose.

"Thank you. Just know, while the pain doesn't get easier, and I don't think it ever will, you will find a way through each day. And remember the good memories."

After another three hours, I'm feeling a little sore, but he's finished. I'm nervous to see how it looks. Getting up off the table, I make my way over to the full-length mirror. I'm speechless—it looks even more beautiful on my skin than it did on paper. The feather flows as if it's real and the birds breaking off at the top look so lifelike. The water colours make it beautiful, and Delilah's quote is delicate and curves along the side of the feather. After Dex wraps me up so I can put my shirt back on, I thank him for how amazing it is. His girlfriend, Ruby, is at the front counter, along with a young girl, maybe eleven or twelve.

"Dad, finally. Jash said I'm old enough to get an iPhone, but Ruby said no."

"Did he now? Did he say he was going to pay for it?" Dex says.

"Well, no, but—" she protests.

"But nothing, Harlow. You're a child and if Ruby said no, it means no."

"Ugh, you're both horrible. Why can't you understand and get with the times? Old people never get it. Why can't you be cool like Uncle Jash?" she says, stomping away.

"Sorry about that," Ruby says as Dex follows behind his daughter.

"That's okay," I say, handing her my credit card.

Once I've paid, I make my way outside and decide to go for a walk to clear my head. I hope what Dex said is true, and it gets easier to get through the day. The only thing getting me through the day right now is Eddie. He has been an amazing help, even when he's being a pain in my arse.

Before Beau passed away, he and I had spoken about me being his designated driver for the night of his birthday, as being eighteen, he wanted to go out with a few friends and have some drinks. We'd spoken about my addiction, and I'd reassured him it was okay to drink as long as he was responsible. The bar he wanted to go to is just down the street. It couldn't hurt to stop in for a meal—I'm not quite ready to head home and face Jen just yet.

The bar isn't what it used to be years ago. It's now run down and filled with kids, or maybe I'm old and they just look like kids to me.

"Hey Cal, it's been a while," comes a familiar voice.

"Oh, hi Blondie, you still working here?" I say, surprised. She'd just started bartending here back when I spent most of my free time here.

"I'm now part owner."

"That's awesome. Do you have a menu? I'm starved, and can I get a lemon, lime and bitters to drink?" I say, and she hands me a menu. I really don't want to do the whole small-talk thing, and I don't want to explain about Beau.

"So, how's life been treating you? Married?"

"It could be better, and no, not married." I decide to throw the rock star boyfriend her way, as that will stop any family talk. "I'm actually dating a musician. You may have heard of him—Eddie Diamond."

"You always did like the bad boys. Did you see today's magazines?" she asks, not giving me a chance to answer before placing a magazine on the bar.

I read the headline and I'm in shock. He's been accused of sexually harassing Alex, and he didn't tell me.

Blondie puts my drink down in front of me, and I don't know what comes over me. Nothing seems rational—it's like all my care factor leaves my body. Why did I expect Eddie to be different? Why does everyone feel the need to lie to me and treat me like a child?

As I take in a big sip of my drink, I instantly know Blondie's put vodka in it. And while a large part of my brain screams at me to spit it out, a small part says, "Fuck it." They all get to have their secrets, and maybe after five years of being sober, I just don't have any reason left to care. The burn makes me cough and Blondie laughs.

"Looked like you could use one of those."

"Maybe it is just what I needed," I say.

"Bobby's goons still loiter out the front," she says.

Bobby is the biggest drug dealer in town, or was before he went to jail. Maybe he's out or someone is taking care of his gear while he's locked away.

One night. For one night, I can be careless and carefree. Don't I deserve that much? To forget the pain, to forget my life, and to forget everyone. Will I regret it tomorrow? Possibly, but since no one is guaranteed tomorrow, why waste today worrying about it?