Innocent Ink (9 page)

That didn’t stop him from aching to be there for Karen. He knew exactly what it was like to spend the night in a hospital, not truly alone, but alone in every way that counted, keeping watch over someone as you tried to convince yourself that they even knew you were there. It made his gut clench and his head ache to imagine Karen going through that.

“Hey, Tyler.” He turned to the only other person left in the shop. “Let’s close up early. Neither of us have got anything else scheduled.” There wasn’t really enough time left to deal with any walk-ins, and he’d be shit for tattooing for the rest of the night, anyway.

Tyler seemed happy enough to check out ahead of time, and Jed closed the shop without fanfare, locking the doors, flipping the sign to ‘closed’ and making a pathetic attempt at paperwork before he shut off the lights and headed upstairs.

The usual, almost-comfortable solitude of his apartment had vanished. In its wake was a conscious emptiness, a feeling that reminded him the place was just a shell of the less lonely times he’d shared with others inside its walls. Alice, Karen – he thought of them both as he sank onto the couch.

It seemed stupid now – selfish, somehow – that less than an hour ago, his biggest concern had been how he could get Karen to see what a mistake they’d made by sleeping together, by beginning a romance that was destined to disappoint her. Those things were true, but he still cared about her and knew he’d lie awake that night, thinking of her suffering at a hospital bedside.

The fact that he’d promised to call her hadn’t slipped his mind, either, but she had enough on her plate without him interrupting. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he composed a text instead. She could read it whenever she got a chance.

Mina told me what happened. Sorry.  Let me know if there’s anything I can do – call anytime.

He hit send and tried to will away the vague feeling of disgust that settled over him. ‘Let me know if there’s anything I can do’ - people had said that to him over and over when he’d been dealing with Alice’s illness, and then afterward, when he’d been left alone. There was nothing anyone could’ve done – no amount of well-wishing could save a life, or reverse the crippling devastation of a loss.

He knew that, and still, he ached to do
something
for Karen. He knew better than most how useless those feelings were, but he couldn’t stop them, just like he couldn’t stop wanting Karen even though he knew he shouldn’t.

* * * * *

A reflection in one of the hospital’s windows showed Karen that she was red-eyed. Pretty bad if she could tell that from a darkened likeness of herself, but her appearance was the last thing that mattered right now. “You can go home, Mina. Really. Get some sleep.”

“What are you going to do?”

“The same thing, I guess.” At least, she’d try. She was exhausted, but she didn’t expect sleep to come easily when she got back to her apartment.

“Now that my parents are here…” She trailed off as she and Mina stepped outside, into the early morning chill that defied the heat that would come later in the day. The dawn was beautiful breaking over the city, but she shielded her eyes against the widening sliver of orange on the horizon.

“I hate the thought of you being all alone in your apartment. I’d be happy to stay with you, or you can come back to my place, if you’d prefer.”

“It’s really okay.” They crossed the parking lot, pausing for a car that crept by at a low speed. “I know my dad is officially in charge of arrangements, but I want to help. So I’m going to try to get some rest while I can.” Her mind felt trapped in a fog; she wasn’t sure if she craved clear-headedness or not, but she hadn’t slept all night, and knew she wouldn’t be much help shuffling around like a zombie.

“Okay, but only if you’re sure.”

Karen downed the last sip of the cold coffee she’d been carrying around in a Styrofoam cup for the past hour. “I’m sure. Thanks for staying the night with me.”

“No problem. Do you want me to drive?”

“That’s all right.” They climbed into Karen’s car and began a quiet drive away from the hospital.

* * * * *

“How’s Karen’s grandmother? How’s Karen?” Jed didn’t bother trying to seem casual when Mina walked through Hot Ink’s front door shortly before noon on Monday.

“Not good,” Mina said, looking up with a frown. The whites of her eyes were streaked with red, and there were circles beneath them. “Her grandmother died within a few hours of arriving at the hospital. I stayed there with her until dawn – her parents are taking care of things now.”

Her words hit him like a blow to the gut, and he couldn’t help but remember Karen smiling just days before as she’d texted her grandmother, accepting a dinner invitation. Had they been close?

“Where’s Karen now?”

“She said she was heading back to her apartment.”

“Alone?”

Mina nodded. “I offered to go with her, but she said she’d be okay.” A little dent appeared in her lower lip as she bit it from the inside. “I don’t know, though. Years ago, when the accident happened and Jess was in the hospital, after they released me as a patient … I didn’t spend much time at home, but when I went to the apartment to shower, change clothes or whatever – I felt so alone.”

Jed nodded.

“Of course, Jess made it out of the hospital, eventually. I guess I don’t really know what Karen’s going through.”

“You don’t have to work today, Mina. Go home and get some sleep. I’ll call Zoe and ask her to come in. If she can’t, well survive for a day without a receptionist.”

Mina shook her head. “If Karen doesn’t need me around, I might as well be here. I got a couple hours of sleep after coming home from the hospital – if I go to bed now, it’ll mess with my sleep cycle.”

He tried to convince her to take the day off, but she was adamant.

The hours dragged by. It took all Jed’s willpower to focus on the task at hand when one of his regulars came in for a scheduled appointment. After an hour and a half of work, he was left with no client. His mind wandered, his worries for Karen merging with memories of the first few days after Alice’s death.

“Hey guys,” Mina said, standing in the aisle between the half-booths during a mid-afternoon lull. “Karen just texted me. She said the service for her grandmother is scheduled for Thursday. I think it would mean a lot to her if we all went. She and her grandmother were really close.”

“I’ll close the shop during the service hours that day. Mina, can you post an update on our site and cancel any appointments?”

Mina nodded. “Sure. And thanks.” She walked slowly back to the front desk and began clicking away on the laptop that sat to the side of the register.

“Hell, I’m gonna go pick up some coffee.” Jed rose from the stool inside his half-booth. “What does everyone want?”

He walked out with Mina, James and Abby’s orders written down on a scrap of paper. It only took a minute to make it to the coffee place across the street. It seemed like everyone was there for an afternoon pick-me-up. He stood in line, images of Karen flashing through his mind.

What was she doing now? She had to be awake – she’d just texted Mina. The barista waved him forward, and on an impulse, he ordered an extra of Mina’s preferred drink.

He’d just have to hope that she and Karen had similar tastes. Whatever Karen was doing, she had to be tired. So after dropping off most of the coffees at Hot Ink, he left again.

Maybe Karen wasn’t even home. He’d find out soon enough. As he settled behind the wheel of his Charger, all he was certain of was that he had to do something, however small, to try to ease Karen’s pain. Especially since he knew exactly how she felt. If she didn’t want his company, she could at least have the coffee.

CHAPTER 6

She was home. In fact, she answered the door the first time he knocked. Her eyes were red and circled like Mina’s, but she still looked beautiful.

“Jed. I had no idea you were planning to stop by.” She stood in the doorway, eyes widening a little.

“Hope you don’t mind. I thought you’d be tired after last night – brought you some coffee.”

“Wow, thanks.” She surprised him by smiling as she accepted the cardboard cup.

“Do you like vanilla?”

“Who doesn’t?” She took a sip of the latte.

Jed stood there for several quiet moments, a sense of awkwardness creeping up on him. “Is there anything else I can do?”

She frowned a little and shook her head. “I don’t even know what I’m doing. Just waiting for something to do, I guess. Tomorrow I’m going to pick out flower arrangements for the funeral service. Until then…” She shrugged, looking helpless. “I don’t think it’s really hit me yet.”

He nodded. The human mind didn’t just wrap itself around the absence of someone it cared about the instant a life was lost. It didn’t work like that – grief was like an onion, many-layered and potent, proving you wrong when you thought there were no more tears left.

“Everyone from Hot Ink will be at the service,” he said. “I don’t know if Mina’s told you yet, but I’m closing the shop so everyone can attend.”

She flashed him another little smile. “Thanks.”

Several silent moments ticked by, and he cursed himself inside his head. Why wasn’t he better at this? He’d been through it himself, for fuck’s sake, and hadn’t forgotten how it felt.

“Do you want to come in?” she asked, stepping aside.

“Only if you’d like me to.”

“I would. The quiet’s been driving me crazy these past few hours. With my parents handling things for the day, I don’t know what to do. I can’t edit photos, can’t work on my website – every time I try to do something useful, I can’t concentrate.” She pressed the cup to her lips again, meeting his gaze over the rim.

“It can be hard.” He pulled the door shut behind himself as he entered her apartment for the first time. There were black and white art prints on the walls – lots of them. Landscapes, skylines and portraits, many of which were familiar.

“I didn’t know you displayed any of these in your home.” He nodded toward a dramatically-lit shot of a man’s back, the focus of which was a sea of ink, complete with a ship sailing at full mast.

“Yeah. Some of my favorites, anyway.”

He scanned the portraits, satisfaction settling a little deeper into his bones each time he spotted a photo of one of his clients. Looked like most of her favorites were his work. “You have good taste.”

She smiled faintly. “Do you want to watch a movie or something? I was thinking of putting one in.”

“Sure.” He’d do whatever she wanted. He held no delusions about his role in her life at the moment – he was there just to be there for her, to do whatever would help put her at ease.

“I was thinking a comedy. Nothing too serious. What kind of movies do you like?”

“I’ll watch just about anything.”

The couch was a loveseat. It was pretty standard for a single person’s small apartment. It also put him noticeably close to Karen when he sat down. He settled on one end, with an arm on the rest, but they were still close enough that he could feel the heat radiating from her body.

He tried not to think about it and willed himself not to notice the scent of her freshly-washed skin. It was strong, though – she must have showered recently. Damn it, it was hard not to picture that. In his mind’s eye, he could see hot water rushing over the curves he’d gotten to know less than 48 hours ago.

“Hope you haven’t seen this one already,” she said, scooting into the center of the couch and leaning against him as the movie started.

“Nope,” he said, trying not to tense as her breast pressed against his bicep, soft and warm. Damn it, how was he supposed to watch the movie like a normal person with her draped over his side?

It was a selfish question – he was supposed to be there to support her, however she needed him to do that, and instead he was sitting ramrod-straight against the back of the couch worrying about an impending hard-on.

There was nothing he could do about it, nothing he could say as the movie played, failing to elicit laughter from either of them. He let her lean on him, because that was what he was there for – figuratively and literally, apparently – and tried not to enjoy it too much.

When the movie ended, Jed resisted the urge to breathe a sigh of relief. An hour and twenty minutes had rarely gone by so slowly or so torturously. When Karen sat up straight and shut off the TV with the press of a button, he became hopeful that his half-hard cock would finally soften.

“Can I get you something, Jed? There’s not much ready to eat, but I could maybe whip something up, and there are drinks in the fridge. I just realized that you brought me that coffee, and I haven’t offered you a thing.”

“Don’t worry about it. And you’re not cooking.” He pulled his phone from his pocket. “I’ll order something in – what do you like?”

“You don’t have to do that. I—”

“You need to eat.” He tried not to sound too domineering, but it was true, and no way was he going to let her lift a finger on his behalf.

She glanced toward the nearest window, as if thinking of the places beyond. “There’s this Japanese place that has great noodles. Sakura Sake House.” She frowned.

“Do you know the number?”

She recited it from memory, and he caught himself filing the fact that she liked Japanese food away for future use.

Hitting call, he attempted to wipe the information from his brain. Her favorite foods were none of his business because he wasn’t romancing her. He told himself that over and over as he remembered the feel of her body leaning against his, curled on the couch.

When the food arrived, they ate together at the kitchen table. There were prints hanging there too, and a couple of them were Jed’s work. He fought to stifle the sense of prideful pleasure that came from knowing she’d been admiring his work in her home all this time. It was foolish, anyway – after all, it was her work, too.

It was their work.

Laying down a pair of bamboo chopsticks, he met her eyes. “It’s starting to get late.” The sky was a dusky purple beyond the kitchen window. “I’m glad to keep you company, but I don’t want to keep you up, either. You have to be exhausted.”