Page 16 of Not My Fault

“I bet you’re not that bad.”

“I literally had to sketch something for my best friend recently, to explain where we’d put our new painting, and she was so confused. She thought I was trying to play charades with her.”

“Oof. So you live with Georgie then?”

“Yup, we lived together since we moved out here. It took a little more convincing to Georgie, but she got into law school, and I was moving here anyway.”

“So she’s a lawyer then?”

“No, actually she took one semester of law school and hated it. So she works on Wall Street now, I don’t know her official title but she enjoys it.”

“As long as it’s something she enjoys.” I smile.

“How’d you get into tattooing?”

“I stumbled into it. I didn’t want to go to college, so I decided to apply for a tattoo apprenticeship on a whim. It was a lot of work, and my teacher was an asshat, but after that I went to a shop with a woman who taught me everything I know. She was a butch and ran a shop that made me feel safe. I stayed with her until I met River, Isla, and Rae and we formed RARE’s,” I explain.

“That makes sense. You’re incredibly talented, I’m glad you figured out what you like to do so easily.”

I pause. “Do you not like the crackers I brought?”

“Oh, no it’s just that I’m gluten free,” Emily says shyly.

“Shit, like, they can’t even touch the gluten? I didn’t know, I’m so sorry.”

“No, no it’s okay. I have PCOS, and I’ve found that going gluten free helps my symptoms just a bit. So I’m not allergicor anything, but I don’t eat gluten. Except for super rare occasions,” she explains.

“Got it, definitely good to know for our next date.”

“Next date? You’re already planning a second one?” She smirks.

“Well, yes? I like planning them,” I admit.

“Sounds perfect to me, I’m very good at being told when and where to show up.”

I pour her a glass of the champagne into a plastic cup, and she holds it out to me.

“It’s bad luck not to toast a bottle of champagne,” she says.

“Ah, then what do we toast to?”

She pauses, thinking about it for a moment. “To new beginnings.”

“To new beginnings,” I agree.

We finish up the snacks and pack away the picnic for now. I tuck it into a secret hiding spot behind one of the bushes, so we don’t have to carry it. If someone took it, it wouldn’t be the end of the world, but I’ve done this before. I figure it’s safe.

“Shall we?” I hold out my hand and Emily takes it happily.

Her small hand slips into mine and I smile. It fits like a glove. While my hands are pretty bare except for my watch, hers are covered in array of gold rings and a few bracelets. Our hands intertwine naturally, and I lead the way toward Brooklyn Bridge Park.

“Is that a carousel? Can we go?” she asks excitedly.

“Sure, why not?”

We grab two tickets for the carousel and there’s only two other families getting on the ride. What is the funniest is me catching one of the bodyguards—I can’t remember which one—riding on it as well. I guess they needed to be close to Emily in an emergency, but it looked hysterical seeing this huge football player-type standing next to a painted horse statue. We take aseat on the bench, and Emily looks happier than the children who are screaming to get off. We’re probably going three miles per hour, but she looks relaxed as we look over the water.

“I can never look at carousels the same…”

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