Inked in the Steel City Series(89)

Memories of Alice sailed through the dark and across the surface of his mind, sending ripples and echoes of the past through his consciousness. Then came memories of Karen, and eventually both at once. Was it strange that he could think of Alice and Karen almost at the same time?

They both anchored his thoughts, tying him to memories that ran deep. Alice was like ivy clinging and blossoming in every nook and cranny of his memory; she’d been the center of his existence for over a decade, since he’d started dating her at nineteen, married her at twenty and lost her at thirty.

She was still with him, a presence in his mind, his heart, his skin. She was a part of who he was – how could he have lived out some of the most defining years of his life with her and that not be the case?

Losing her had been like losing a limb. He’d gone on without her – he’d had little choice – but his progression through life had been slowed, often painful and at times downright fucking awkward as he’d struggled to limp forward, always missing that absent part of himself.

There was no recovering a lost limb, and likewise, there was no replacing Alice, and no forgetting her. Which was exactly why he’d figured he’d never be serious with anyone else.

Over the years since Alice’s death, he’d had a few encounters with other women. They’d been short-lived, disappointing and were half-shameful in retrospect. Nothing more than attempts at escape from reality, they’d all failed. After a while, he’d stopped paying attention to any woman who’d seemed interested, stopped giving a damn about anything except Hot Ink.

That, at least, had been a safe harbor for his passion, even after Alice’s death. Hot Ink had been her dream too; they’d started the shop together with just him tattooing and her working reception during every open hour. She’d handled the accounting and many of the day-to-day business matters, and she’d been good at it.

During her dying months, she’d forced him to take little lessons from her, to learn to do it all himself. He clung to those tasks, cherishing the numbers, the tax forms … everything she’d passed down to him, as unromantic as it all was.

Karen was not Alice, and not a replacement for her, by any means. No one could be that; love couldn’t be replicated, and every relationship was unique. Karen and Alice weren’t much alike, anyway. And still, he felt happier with Karen in his life than he’d been since before Alice’s cancer diagnosis.

Being with Karen felt right, like new life had been blown into his lungs. Still, the feeling didn’t dispel the pain of losing Alice. That fact was exactly what gave him confidence in what was growing between him and Karen. Karen wasn’t a crutch, wasn’t a distraction – she was much more than that. She was someone he could love without fooling himself, without abusing his feelings for her like a drug, using them to numb his negative emotions.

Alone in the otherwise empty house with the past and the future laid before him in his head, he let the realization wash over him, easing his mind enough that he noticed the ache in his side again.



* * * * *





“These colors are going to look great against your skin.”

A wave of heat shimmered over the curve of Karen’s shoulder as Jed passed his hand over the area, moistening her skin with cleansing alcohol. She raised her gaze to the wall of his half-booth, where a vase full of stargazer lilies rested. They’d been there when he’d welcomed her into the closed tattoo studio.

“Do you think so?” She’d chosen to have the lilies done in true-to-life shades of pink and white because that was what her grandmother’s favorite flowers had looked like. She let her gaze wander over the living blossoms again, studying the play of light on their crisply-colored petals.

Her tattoo would look much like them when it was done; Jed was a master at using color, at creating tattoos that not only looked vibrant when finished, but were designed to stand the test of time, to look good years later. Clients came to him from places far beyond Pittsburgh for those reasons – she’d heard them say so, had seen them show off their older tattoos in the shop while returning for another.

“Yeah. The bright pink, the white and the black – your fair skin is the perfect canvas for this tattoo. I think you’ll be happy with it.”

She studied his reflection in the mirror that took up the booth’s back wall, watching him as he stood bent over her shoulder, carefully preparing the area. “I know I’ll be happy with it.” She didn’t feel the sense of trepidation she’d always imagined she would if she ever decided to be tattooed. She felt a calmness that remained as Jed applied a stencil to her skin.