Pete transfers the design onto my arm and starts to ink the tattoo into my skin. It doesn’t hurt nearly enough. I heave in a sigh. “There was an explosion,” I say.
“Was it awful?” she breathes. She lays her chin in her hand and props her elbow on a table.
I nod. “It was pretty terrible. Every one of my men died.” I lift my pant leg. “I lost my leg and was burned pretty badly. But I lived.”
“The universe must have better things in store for you,” she says.
Paul snorts. “Friday, please,” he warns.
I should have died with them. “I doubt it,” I say. “I ship out in twenty-four hours,” I inform her. That’s a lie. Well, sort of. But not really. “I’m going to join my team.”
Friday brightens. “Well, that’s something to look forward to.”
Yeah. It’s all I’ve looked forward to for a long, long time.
I want to change the subject, so I think about the list in my pocket. “Do you guys know where I can find a clock shop in town? Someone who can fix a watch?”
The men look at one another and one of them says, “Henry’s?”
“Do you know if they’re open tomorrow?” I ask. “Well, today, I guess.” I have to have the watch fixed by tomorrow night. Midnight. It’s on my list.
“Call him, Paul,” Pete says. He pulls his phone from his pocket and tosses it to Paul. Paul juggles it playfully until Pete makes a noise and then he stops.
“Isn’t it awfully late to call tonight?” I ask. I look from one of them to the other.
“Henry’s wife had a stroke two years ago. They keep odd hours while he takes care of her. He might still be up. If not, Paul will leave a message.” He shrugs. “Worth a shot.”
Paul nods, and I see him smile as someone answers. Paul tells him I have a broken watch. He puts his hand over the mouthpiece and looks at me. “Can you go by there when we’re done here?” he asks. “He’s still up.”
I nod. “Love to.”
Paul talks to him for a minute and hangs up the phone.
“How is she?” Pete asks.
Paul shakes his head. “She’s not doing well, and she’s ready to give up. I think sometimes she just hangs in there for Henry.” He blows out a breath. “I’ll write down the directions for you. It’s right around the corner from here. In the basement of a building.”
He hands me the directions when Pete finishes the tattoo. I look down at my new ink and smile. It’s beautiful. I can cross that one off my list. “You’ll find Faith there,” he says. “In the clock shop.”
“Faith?” I ask. I almost snort. I don’t believe in faith. Not anymore.
“Faith is Henry’s granddaughter. She helps to take care of his wife and works in the clock shop when he’s not there.” He holds up a hand to show she’s about as tall as his shoulder. “Short little redhead. Really f**king adorable. In an I-want-to-bang-the-librarian sort of way.”
“Faith is a girl?” I ask. It’s not some mythical state of being?
Paul nods slowly.
“Oh, okay,” I breathe. I’d rather talk to a girl than talk about faith or hope or God or any of those things I don’t have anymore. I pay my bill and walk toward the front of the store. But as I’m leaving, Friday tugs on my sleeve. I look down and she stands up on tiptoe and kisses my cheek.
“Best of luck to you,” she says quietly.
“Thanks,” I croak. I suddenly have a lump in my throat and I don’t know why.
Pete shrugs into his coat. “I’ll walk with you to Henry’s. You don’t want to be alone in this neighborhood at this time of the night.” He looks over at Paul, who I assume is his brother. They look very similar, but the big one is broad enough to fill a doorway. He doesn’t smile quite as readily as Pete does. “You going to walk Friday home?” Pete asks Paul.
Paul grumbles playfully and wraps Friday up in his beefy arms. “If I have to,” he says. He scrubs a hand across Friday’s hair. She slaps at his wrists until he pulls her back in for a hug. She settles against him and exhales. He looks down his nose at her, like he’s confused. She breathes him in, a smile softening her face. He sets her back from him. “You ready?” he asks.
She nods her head and her cheeks color. “Don’t walk me home hoping I’m going to invite you in,” she chirps playfully.
“One day, Friday, I’m not going to give you a choice about inviting me in.”
She freezes and her breaths fall a little quicker.
Pete bumps my shoulder as he walks by me. “You ready?” he asks. I nod, and stick my hands in my pockets. “See you tomorrow,” he calls over his shoulder.
“Big plans for New Year’s Eve?” I ask as we step out onto the sidewalk. The snow is falling even heavier, and I pull my hood up over my head. I stumble a little in the snow, and Pete slows down. He doesn’t mention my leg. He just adjusts his walk. “Thanks,” I mutter.
“For what?” he asks. He looks into my face.
“Nothing,” I say. Maybe I’m just imagining that he’s adjusting for me. I worry so much about my disability that I think everyone else does too.
“I’m taking my girl to watch the fireworks tomorrow,” he says.
“Tonight,” I correct. I look down at my broken watch.