Indelible (17 page)

“Hey.” Angie nudged his foot and he looked up.

“Hi, Mom.” He didn’t sound contrite, but at least he didn’t sound combative. Angie decided to count it as a victory. Oliver looked past Angie and his eyes lit up when he saw Luna standing behind her. “Luna!”

The door to Mr. Payton’s office opened and the man himself poked his head out. “Ms. Dressen, thank you for coming so quickly. Please come in.”

He stepped out of the way while Angie entered, then he looked expectantly at Luna. “Are you joining us?”

Angie tilted her head to the side and waited. She wanted to hear Luna’s answer.

“I think I’ll keep Oliver company.” She sat in the chair next to his.

What Luna really should have done was wait in the car, but when she’d climbed out of the driver’s side, then held the passenger door open for Angie, she’d automatically latched on to Luna. Angie found comfort in the light impression of Luna’s palm against her low back. It calmed her.

“Okay.” So much for limiting the amount of time Luna spent with Oliver.

The door closed, leaving Luna alone with a silent and sulking Oliver. She couldn’t believe Angie hadn’t stopped her from entering the building with her, or that she left the decision about joining them in the office totally up to her. It had to have been a test. Had she passed?

After several moments, Oliver finally spoke. “Mom’s pissed, isn’t she?”

“I don’t know if that’s the right term. I think she’s worried more than anything else.”

Oliver sat up slightly. “She looks pissed.”

“Maybe she is.” Luna was not an expert on Angie’s emotions.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what I did?”

“Do you want to tell me?”

Oliver snorted. “Not really, but Mom will even if I don’t.”

“Don’t count on it.” Luna didn’t mean to say it. Oliver didn’t need to know how frustrating his mother was.

“I drew on my arm.” Oliver squirmed side to side in his chair.

That was it? Granted, Luna wasn’t a parent, but this seemed an extreme reaction on the school’s part for some non-permanent body art. Maybe it was not just that he did it. “What did you draw?”

“An angel.” Oliver pushed his sleeve up. He had a decent rendition of the angel on Luna’s upper arm, only his was on his left arm and Luna’s was on her right.

“That’s good.” She traced her fingers over the ink. Oliver’s work was solid, the lines clean.

“Yeah? I gave one to my buddy Josh, too.” Oliver smiled. He looked like a completely different person when he wore a happy expression.

“So why did your mom get called? I’m just not seeing it.” Maybe the school thought the angel was a gang sign or something.

Oliver’s scowl returned. “We kinda tried to give one to another kid,” he mumbled.

“And?”

“He didn’t want it.”

Assault by ballpoint pen. The implications offended Luna. Tattoos were highly personal. Forcing another person to wear one against his will was inconceivable. She was sure there were worse things, but she couldn’t think of any. “Why?”

Oliver shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“You
need
to know.”

Oliver chewed his bottom lip. “It started out as a joke. We were just messing around.”

“How’d it go from messing around to sitting outside the vice principal’s office waiting for your mom to show up?”

“He said he didn’t want it, and that would have been okay. But then he said it was stupid, that the angel was dumb and anyone who had one was dumb. It made me mad.”

The taunt hurt Luna to hear, which surprised her. Why would the insecure teasing of a ten-year-old boy bother a thirty-three-year-old woman? Probably because the angel was more than just a tattoo for Luna. It was her mother.

“That’s no excuse.” Luna was still horrified that Oliver had tried to forcibly apply the angel to the other boy’s arm. “Tattoos are special. Abusing the art form like that…it’s a terrible thing to do.”

Oliver looked miserable. “I’m sorry.”

“You can’t ever,
ever
, do anything like that again.” This conversation was Angie’s to have with Oliver, but Luna couldn’t stop herself from admonishing him. “I cannot tolerate it.”

“I won’t.” Oliver shifted closer to Luna. “I promise.” The words came out as a choked whisper and Oliver started crying.

Luna hesitated. What the hell was she supposed to do with a crying ten-year-old? Finally, she pulled him into a hug, and he threw his arms around her and buried his face in her neck.

Angie exited the office and Oliver sat up, his eyes and nose red and running.

“I’ll take him home now. Thank you again for the phone call.” Angie shook the man’s hand. “It was nice meeting you. I hope next time it’ll be under better circumstances.”

The man smiled like he’d won a prize and Luna crackled with jealousy. She wanted to bark at the man until he stepped away from
her
girlfriend.

“Come on, Oliver.” Angie waited for him to stand, then followed him through the corridor.

When they were locked safely inside the car, Angie exploded. “What the hell were you
thinking,
Oliver?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “They took that other boy to the hospital. The
hospital
!” She pushed her hand through her hair and blew out a sigh.

Luna took advantage of the slight lull and asked, “Your house?”

Angie nodded.

“I’m sorry, Mom.” Oliver huddled in the backseat, gulping back hiccups and tears.

“Sorry isn’t good enough, son. You’re lucky the other parents didn’t want to press charges.”

Luna glanced in the rearview mirror. Oliver’s face paled at his mother’s observation. “Charges?” His chin trembled.

Luna drove as fast as possible. She didn’t want to speed with Oliver and Angie in the car, but she didn’t want to prolong this experience.

“What am I going to do with you?” Angie’s voice was tired. Luna wanted to comfort her, hold her while she fell asleep.

“It won’t happen again.”

“Damn right it won’t. You’ve been suspended for a week while they decide what to do. Do you realize they could kick you out?”

Luna pulled into Angie’s driveway and killed the engine. She’d made it there in record time. As Oliver exited the car, Luna grasped Angie’s hand, holding her back.

“Can I come in with you?” She’d already pushed her luck at the school This time she asked before following Angie inside.

“It’s probably a bad idea.”

Angie wasn’t rushing to send her away. Luna’s internal cheerleader did a flip in spite of the horrible circumstances.

“Probably, but I want to anyway.” It was Angie’s night off and Luna wanted to be there to hold her when she cried.

“Did he tell you what he did?”

“He showed me his arm.” Luna brushed the backs of her fingers against Angie’s cheek, then worked her hand down to cup the side of Angie’s neck.

“It looks like yours, doesn’t it?” Angie ran her hand beneath Luna’s sleeve and palmed the angel.

“Close.” Luna didn’t like where this conversation was going.

“Did he tell you why he did it?”

“He said the other boy made fun of him, told him his angel was stupid.”

Angie pushed the sleeve up and kissed Luna’s tattoo. “It’s not stupid.”

“No, but forcing someone into a tattoo he doesn’t want? That’s not okay.”
Not okay
was the understatement of the year for Luna. She was trying not to freak out.

“Thank God it’s not permanent.”

“How bad was he hurt?”

“Not at all.” Angie offered a tired smile.

Luna was confused. “You said hospital.”

“I may have exaggerated for dramatic effect. I want Oliver to think about what he’s done.”

“I believe he is sorry.” Luna wondered how much further this conversation would go before Angie remembered she was talking to Luna, the woman she didn’t want influencing her son. Especially since it was her angel that Oliver had copied. She was afraid if she left now, Angie might never let her back in.

“Yeah, but is that enough?”

“I don’t know.” Luna shook her head. She loved Angie’s strength, her commitment to her son. Even more, she loved that Angie was letting her share this moment of difficulty, letting Luna see her struggle. For the first time, Luna wanted to be strong for someone else.

“I should get inside.” Angie reached for the door handle.

Back to Luna’s original question. “Can I come with you?”

“Not this time.” Angie gave Luna a brief kiss. “As much as I’d rather be with you, I need to deal with this.”

“I wouldn’t interfere.”

“I know, but I don’t want to drag you into my family drama any deeper than you already are.” Angie exited the car and crossed the yard.

Luna watched until she disappeared into the house, then started the car and backed out of the driveway. What could she do to make her intentions clearer for Angie?

Friday, September 11

Angie paced the linoleum floor in the kitchen. She was tired of arguing with her father. “Nothing you can say will make this okay, Dad. Nothing.”

“He’s ten years old, Angie. Boys make mistakes.” Jack sipped his coffee. He was acting like Oliver had done nothing more serious than graffiti a bathroom stall.

“This wasn’t a
mistake
. It was
assault
.” Angie thrust her words out like mental battering rams, hoping they would somehow break through Jack’s stubborn refusal to face reality. “What am I supposed to say to the other boy’s parents?” Angie didn’t want to have that conversation, but she couldn’t avoid it. If their roles were reversed, she’d want answers. They deserved the same.

“I don’t know, Angie.” Jack pulled a box out of the cupboard above the refrigerator. It was behind an assortment of vases and he had to use a stool to get it. Then he sat at the table and emptied the contents onto the table. It was an elaborate kit for rolling joints. Angie had never seen it before. Jack’s fingers trembled slightly as he worked the paper. Maybe he was more upset than he was letting on.

“Do you have to do that
now
?” Angie needed to focus on her son, not her aging father’s lingering Peter Pan complex.

“Yes, I do.” Jack sparked the joint and sucked in a mouthful of smoke. After a long pause, he exhaled and offered it to Angie. “You probably should, too.”

“Christ, Dad.” Angie flipped on the exhaust fan over the stove, cracked the window above the sink, and opened the back door. She stood just outside the door and continued with her previous line of thought. “Maybe I should put him in counseling.”

“Do you really think that’s necessary?”

Angie didn’t want to, but she couldn’t ignore the seriousness of Oliver’s actions. “It probably doesn’t matter what I think. The school may require it in order for him to go back.”

“I didn’t think about that.” Jack took another hit, and his body relaxed slightly.

“You realize it matches Luna’s tattoo?” Angie hated the correlation. She was getting used to having Luna in her life, but if it was hurting Oliver, she would give her up.

“I figured.”

“What should I do about that?” She didn’t know why she was asking Jack’s opinion. He made decisions with his libido, or through marijuana-tinted glasses.

“Why would you do anything?”

“Would Oliver have done this without her influence?” Angie knew her question was absurd before she’d said it. Luna had spent hardly any time with Oliver, and if he was about to have a violent outburst at school, it would have happened with or without Luna and her angel.

“This exactly? Probably not.” Jack was staring hard at the burning tip of his joint. “But he might have done something else. Angie, don’t use this as an excuse to deny yourself companionship. You don’t deserve to be punished. It isn’t your fault.”

“Then whose fault is it?” Of course it was her fault.

“Oliver is growing up. He’s trying to figure out what to do with all that extra energy and confusion rolling around inside him.” Jack shrugged, apparently back to trying to convince Angie it was no big deal.

“I need to spend more time with him. Maybe I could switch to mornings?”

“Can you afford that?” They’d had this conversation too many times in the past. Jack knew tips were better at dinnertime.

“Probably not.” Angie slumped against the door frame, feeling helpless. “Maybe I should pull him out of baseball.”

“What would that solve?”

“I don’t know.” Angie loved that Oliver played baseball, possibly more than Oliver. Still, he was excited when his coach proposed a special program that continued play long after the regular season ended. “But he needs to know that his behavior has consequences.”

“And having his mom called to the principal’s office isn’t a consequence?” Jack held out his joint to Angie. She’d never accepted his offer and didn’t know why he kept trying. Perhaps he thought she was really missing out, or maybe it was force of habit from years of getting stoned with friends.