Page 13 of Catch You

Everything was … bearable, I guess, until one day it all came crashing down around Mum’s feet. Dad came home one night and announced that he’d met someone else and that he was leaving. Mum was shattered. Everything about life as she knew it ended with those few words, but she never imagined what was to follow, thanks to my father.

A knock at the door pulls me from my thoughts, and I pocket my phone and welcome my first client of the day. It’s a guy who turned up a few weeks ago for a consultation. I’ve been working on finalising his design since, and I’m excited to be able to put some ink to skin at last. Hopefully, it might just rid me of some of my stress.

5

HARLOW

“Are you ever going to get that thing done, or do you just intend on staring at it for the rest of your days, wishing you were brave enough?”

I glance at the sketch tacked to my mirror before lifting my eyes over my shoulder to Brooke, who’s now made herself comfortable in my bed.

“Something wrong with your room?”

“Yeah, actually. It stinks of vomit.”

“So you thought you’d spread it to my bed, too? Great, thanks.”

“I’ve showered; you’re safe.”

That doesn’t exactly make me feel better, but I look back to my mirror to finish getting ready. My stomach bottoms out the second I remember what exactly it is I’m getting ready for before I have a chance to push it aside.

“I’ll get it one day,” I mutter, looking at the design I came up with a few years ago for the day I was brave enough to be inked. After all the shit I did in my teen years, you wouldn’t think getting a tattoo would be all that wild, but every time I think about it, I chicken out. I’ve even gotten as far as a waiting rooma time or two, but each visit ended with me walking back out through the door with my skin as bare as when I walked inside.

“You’ve been saying that for years. Pull the Band-Aid off and just do it. I guarantee you’ll feel better after.”

“Says the expert,” I mutter. Her knowledge of tattoos is limited to the tramp stamp on her back.

“I’m too hungover to argue with you.”

“And for that, I’m truly grateful.”

“Bitch.”

“Yet still you love me.”

“That I do, sista. That I do. You look nice,” Brooke says, her eyes running the length of me.

“Dress for the news you want, right?”

“It’ll be fine. I’m pretty sure you’ve had your fill of bad luck over the years.”

“She’s been called in on a Saturday. Do you really believe that?”

Dread passes through her eyes, and my stomach twists. I’m about to be told that I’m losing someone else I love. They’re words that one should only hear once or twice in their lives, but for me, it’s a more common occurrence than I’d like to admit.

Brooke’s slightly green face pales. She knows I’m right.

“It will be what it will be. I’ve just got to do my best to support her through it.”

“She’s lucky to have you.”

I shrug. I can see how Brooke might see it that way, but really, I’m the lucky one. My aunt is my lifeline. She came for me when I was at my lowest, and without her, I’ve no doubt that I wouldn’t be here right now.

Pushing from the stool I’m sitting on, I stand and pull my purse from the bed.

“Message me when you have news.”

I nod, my breath caught in my throat and move toward the door. I’ve got to be strong for her. She might be all I have in the family department, but equally, I’m all she’s got, and I need to be as strong for her as she was for me. It’s time for me to pull up my big-girl panties.

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