Page 100 of Time for Change

I hear heavy footfalls on the floor before a large presence fills the doorway. “What the hell are you doing here?”

I roll my eyes at my brother’s gruff tone. “Nice to see you too.”

He steps inside and cracks a rare smile. “I’m just messing with you. I wasn’t expecting this appointment to be a familyaffair,” he informs me, walking over and taking a seat in BJ’s chair.

She looks a little sheepish, probably on account of not warning me as to who her next appointment was.

“What are you getting?” I ask, searching for and appreciating a topic change.

He nods to BJ, who pulls out a drawing and hands it over. It’s a sketch of a fighter jet with roses wrapped around the wings. I know instantly what it represents, considering his kids are named Rose and Jett. “I love this,” I say, handing the drawing back to our sister.

Jameson reaches behind his head and pulls his shirt off. His entire chest is mostly covered in tattoos of various colors and designs. I find myself checking out each and every one, wondering if BJ did them all.

“I did most of them, but Jax, the owner of this place, did a lot of the early ones,” BJ says, getting her workstation ready for his ink. I try not to focus on the fact my sister read my mind.

“Where’s it going?” I find myself asking but realize there’s really only one spot. Jameson has one tattoo already over his heart, but there’s a large empty space beside it. He’s putting his kids beside the ink representing his wife, directly above his heart.

He taps his chest, getting comfortable. I watch, enamored, as BJ moves her tray beside her and gets to work on the transfer. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

His words surprise me, and I glance to what BJ is doing, wondering if he’s referring to an issue she has.

“You, Stevie. What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice to the point, yet surprisingly gentle at the same time. He’s just loud enough over the start of the needle.

I glance up, ready to ask him why he thinks something’s wrong, but the question dies on my lips. His whiskey-coloredeyes, the ones the same shade as mine, are so gentle, so concerned it makes me lose my control over my carefully wrangled emotions. “Jack and I broke up.” I don’t even sound like myself saying those words.

He doesn’t reply, just watches me.

“I know what you’re going to say,” I start, wiping aggressively at the wetness lightly streaking down my cheeks. “He’s too old for me. I’m young and have a lot of years ahead of me. There’s no reason for me to date someone who has kids, I’m just a kid myself. I don’t know what love is. How could I possibly think I’m in love with Jack?”

When he still doesn’t speak, I look up. The buzzing has stopped and both of my siblings are staring back at me.

“Do you know what makes me feel better when I’m having a shit day?” Jameson says, breaking the silence.

“What?” I ask, sniffling.

He gives me a smile, a beautiful one. It lights up his entire face and makes him look so much softer than he portrays. “I get ink, little sister.”

I snort a laugh and shake my head. “I got ink about a month ago.”

“She also got her first piercing,” BJ adds, returning to the black outline of Jameson’s tattoo.

“Do I want to know where?” he asks skeptically.

“No,” I practically holler at the same time BJ says, “Probably not.”

He sighs and gets comfortable, grumbling something about sisters and them being a pain in the ass. “Anyway, a month is long enough. Besides, you have my blood. You’re tough and can handle it.”

I can’t help but grin as I watch my sister work. “What should I get?” I ask, more out of curiosity than necessity.

“A circle,” he states.

Well, I wasn’t expecting that one.

“A circle?” I ask, finding it hard not to laugh.

He just shrugs his broad shoulders and looks down as BJ marks his skin. “A circle represents strength. It symbolizes unity, intellect, power, wholeness, and family. You have all those things.”

Those pesky tears fill my eyes once more, and they’re starting to piss me off. I’m tired of crying. I’ve cried more in the last five days than I ever have in my life. I learned real quick, as a child, tears did nothing to help your situation. But the older I get and the more my heart breaks, the faster the tears start to fall.

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