My Father’s grave was the one place I felt safe now that Thomas’s arms were no longer available. I arrived at the cemetery with a bouquet of lilies and spent thirty minutes whispering my truths. Dad deserved to know about Adrian just as much as Nick and Mel. He couldn’t hear me; he couldn’t console me, but I had to tell him, nonetheless. Including him in my life was a way of coping with his absence.
December was no time to sit in front of a grave on a cold bench. The vast cemetery was empty, not a single person in sight. Most graves were dressed in artificial flowers, but some looked abandoned, and my heart squeezed. Many people chose to deal with grief by forgetting about the person and their death.
I found it consoling to remember, to recall his smiles and love and the way his presence made my world a better place.
I took a sketchpad out of my bag and drew the puppet I drew so many times before—a white dress, long hair kissed by the wind, and strings attached to her body. I sketched for a while, lost in thought, but my phone chimed before I finished. A text message from Thomas waited on the screen.
Nick told me what happened. I’m here if you need me.
A small smile curved my lips. I tapped the reply and pressed send.
I stand on the line between giving up and seeing how much more I can take. Which way do I go?
I pressed pencil to paper, waiting for his reply that would determine the final design.
Up.
Pencil scratched the paper again, drawing, shading and perfecting the sketch. An hour later, I tucked it in my bag, saidgoodbyeto Dad, and drove to the city centre.
A young girl with bright orange hair and piercings in her nose, lips and ears smiled at me from behind the counter of a tattoo parlour.
“Hey, can I help?”
I took the sketchpad, tore out one page and handed it to her.
“I’d like this,” I turned around, pointing to the spot between my shoulder blades, “here. Can you do it now?”
“Now? No, you need an appointment. I’ve got one next Tuesday.”
“I’ll pay you double if you can do it now. Please, it’s important.”
She glanced at the sketch again. “You drew this? It’s good.”
“Can you do it?”
A smirk crossed her red lips “Of course I can do it, but it’s going to cost you, sweetie. Three-hundred.”
I placed my credit card on the countertop, making her smile. We spent over an hour in silence while she transferred the sketch onto my skin. Just when we were about to finish, my phone started to ring. I ignored it, but whoever tried to reach me, was pretty persistent.
“Answer it, it’s driving me insane,” the girl said.
Nick’s face flashed on the screen. “Where are you, sis?”
“Sorry, I should’ve sent you a message. I’m running a little late. Give me half an hour, okay?”
“Sure, I’ll see you soon.”
The clock on the wall showed twenty past twelve in the afternoon when the tattoo artist finished. I stood with my back to a large mirror and held a smaller one in hand to see the masterpiece. It looked amazing and was going to look even better once the bruises faded.
To my own surprise, my emotions were in check when I parked outside of the C&G Records building and exited the car. I expected the news of Adrian’s attempted suicide to take a toll on me at some point, but apart from sadness twisting my stomach, I was coping well.
Thomas leaned against the side of the smoking shelter, a phone in hand. The air was chilly with soft snow falling from the sky. It melted under my feet, leaving small wet marks on the ground. It wasn’t cold enough for snow to stick around longer than a second or two.
Halfway across the carpark, I stopped, my heart picking up pace when a petite blonde with chin-length hair approach the smoking area. She wore boyfriend-type jeans, cute white pumps and a thick, denim coat. Oh, and the most beautiful smile on her red lips.
She rounded the glass shelter, jumped to hang herself on Thomas’s neck, pressing those red lips to his for a sweet kiss. She moved away, beaming, her smile so genuine it touched her eyes, surrounded by black rims of trendy glasses. I couldn’t hear what she was saying, but the way she caressed Thomas’s face, and toyed with their interlocked fingers made me want to curl in a ball and cry.
But I couldn’t move, mesmerised by the girl.