Page 5 of Conflicted
In the most natural way, Rebecca pulled a few tissues from the box and handed it to the crying girl.
“Jade always loved tattoos but never got one for herself.” The girl wiped a stray tear from her eye.
“Did you have a design in mind?” Rebecca asked softly.
“I’m not sure. I don’t want text, so Jade’s name or the date aren’t an option.” The young woman chewed her bottom lip. “Nothing sad or morbid either.”
“How about a mandala that symbolizes the circle of life or the phases of the moon that represents change and the circle of time?” Rebecca suggested.
“I like the idea of a mandala. Can you show me some designs?”
As Rebecca and the girl talked, Ruby finished putting things away. People got tattoos for all different reasons, and she loved how the body art strengthened the people who got them. Although their male clientele preferred Ruby’s touch no nonsense approach, Rebecca with her kind face and soft voice was extremely popular with the women – especially young ones. She was perfect for first-timers, and she would do perfect with this girl.
The doorbell chimed, and Ruby's first client arrived ten minutes earlier per his usual. Mike had been her client for years, and currently she was working on a full arm sleeve with colorful Koi fish. The fish symbolized determination, strength, and adversity. Mike came in every four weeks for the last six months, and after this session, Ruby would need one more to finalize the entire sleeve.
During her work, she listened to Mike talk about his job as a firefighter and how his wife became more and more demanding. Jewel once told her a hairdresser also doubled for a social worker, and over the years, Ruby discovered it was the same with her job. While sitting in her chair, people spoke, and she listened.
Ruby wiped the skin and checked Mike's face. "How are you holding up?" She was working on his inner elbow, and it had to hurt like hell.
Mike shot her a cocky grin. "Fine."
"Uh-huh." This spot held two primary nerve endings, and he must feel it through the length of his entire arm.
"Real men can handle a bit of pain, ma'am."
Ruby scoffed and lifted a single eyebrow. Sure. Most guys she knew couldn't, and in her experience women were tougher — but she wouldn't voice her thought. Mike winked before he closed his eyes and rested his head back. Ruby bent over her work and continued.
"Hurts less than getting accused of sleeping around when I've been busting my ass and taking extra shifts to buy us a house by next spring," Mike mumbled.
Ruby's eyes widened. Mike's wife truly is a bitch! She had no clue what to say to his statement, and she simply pretended she didn’t hear him over the hum of the tattoo gun. Maybe embarrassed by his admission or catching onto Ruby’s silence, Mike didn’t speak again for quite a while, and Ruby concentrated on her art.
After she finished the painful spot, she moved to the fleshy outside of the upper arm. She always tried to alternate the least painful areas with the places where it hurt more. To her relief, Mike switched to the lighter topic of a prank his crew played on a fellow firefighter.
“I can’t believe you actually placed his car on the roof. How on earth did he get the damn thing down again?” She shook her head, but laughter filled her voice.
“Well, he called the fire department, of course.”
They both burst out laughing, and Ruby was glad she had shut off the tattoo gun. When they both settled down, she carefully removed some excess ink and announced, “Done for the day.”
Mike looked down the length of his arm when she leaned back and complimented her, “Thanks, Ruby. It looks amazing.”
Mike was right, and his sleeve was one of her best until this day — the colors vibrant, and when Mike flexed his arm to admire the tattoo, the koi fish seemed to swim.
Pleased with the result, Ruby beamed at her customer. “Yeah, looks good, and only one time left to finish.”
Mike winked at her. “I’m almost going to miss our monthly date when you finish the sleeve.”
Ruby chuckled, silently relieved he seemed to have gotten his equilibrium back. “You can always do the other arm, too.”
He deliberately bobbed his head. “You’re right.” From the determined expression on his face, Ruby expected to see him back soon.
After she covered his arm with a tattoo bandage and reminded him about caring for the new work, Mike left the parlor beaming with joy. Ruby leaned against the counter and cranked her neck.
“You look tired, hon.” Rebecca stood next to her and patted her shoulder. “How about a cup of coffee. We don’t have any appointments for another twenty minutes.”
Ruby pushed away from the counter, but before she could verbally react, the doorbell chimed, and a young couple and a tall balding man entered the parlor.
Rebecca’s forehead wrinkled. “I guess coffee will have to wait.”
