Page 14 of Positively Inked

“Yes please,” Heather corrects herself.

“Well, here you go, you can play with them while your daddy works. I’ll pack them away later.”

“Thank you,” Heather sits up and reaches for the unicorns, playing with them gently. I go back to my booth and sterilize everything before restocking. I take out my phone to load the pictures onto our social media group, but every time I glance up at the bench in front of me, I picture JJ between my legs and a shiver runs up my spine.

I need to get this guy out of my brain.

I’ve calmed down now that I’m designing some pieces, but I still can’t get over how incredibly stupid Lyra was. Firstly, to think I would not show up for work just because we had sex and secondly because of the revelation of what her tattoos represent. I mean, I’ve heard some out there stories about why people get tattoos, but hers really takes the cake!

I want to try and see it from her perspective of it being something good out of something bad, but I can’t. Maybe it’s because I’m still hurting over what Bernadine did to Heather and me, or maybe it’s just because I don’t think backwards. I always look to the future and live in the present, the past is not a place I like to visit often.

As soon as Sheldon flips the closed sign on the door I have Heather packed up and ready to go home. I order us a taxi to take us home and say goodbye to everyone except Lyra. I’m still mad at her, and I don’t want to say something I’ll regret.

I get Heather into the taxi, and as we drive home she leans on me and doses off. At least her fever has broken, she should be well enough to go to school tomorrow and I can resume our routine like normal. I like routine, it sets the pace of the day and makes it easier to keep everything in place. Once the taxi pulls up outside our home, I pay him and shimmy Heather gently into my arms, sliding out of the taxi and shutting the door with my backside. The taxi drives off and I try and juggle Heather so I can reach my keys in my pocket, unlocking the door and opening it.

From there it doesn’t take me long to get Heather into her pajamas and into her bed, tucking her in tightly. I grab her schoolbag on my way out so I can pack it, write a note to her teacher in her diary, and pack her lunch. I sigh as I head downstairs, pulling out her diary from the front pocket. A piece of paper floats out of it to the bottom of the stairs; I scoop it up as I pass it and open it.

It’s a letter from the school for the parents, and I groan loudly as I read what they have to say. This is going to make life complicated. Due to safety reasons they are no longer allowing children to stay at school after hours unless they have an after school activity to attend to. I sigh, unless I sign Heather up for an activity for each day, she’s going to have to come home early every afternoon. That means I need to arrange with the bus driver to bring her home earlier, and that I would need to pay Rebecca to watch her for more hours. Something I really cannot afford to do right now.

I drop the paper on the counter in my kitchen and take out everything I need for her lunch. As I’m making it I’m trying to think of ways that I’m going to get this right. Maybe Rebecca will give me a discounted rate because of the extra hours? Nope, her mother would say I was taking advantage. Maybe Heather is old enough to stay home alone… Definitely not, I know my child, she will set our house on fire rather innocently and then stand outside and watch it burn. Maybe I can work half days, but that’ll mean a huge pay cut and I get a lot of clients in the afternoons. I’d miss out on those, so that’s really not ideal.

I pack her lunch into her little insulated lunch box and put it in her bag. I take out her diary and write a note to her teacher explaining why she wasn’t at school before I tuck that back into its place as well.

I glance at the time, it’s still early in the evening and the last thing I want to do after today is speak to Lyra, but it’s the option that makes the most sense. I take out my phone and find her number, dialing it.

“Hello?” Lyra answers. There’s a loud meow next to the phone and she scolds the cat that’s there, “Miko! Move! Hello?”

“Hi Lyra, it’s JJ,” I say.

“Hey JJ, yeah, I kinda figured. I have your number saved.”

“Right,” I let out a deep breath, “Listen, I’ve run into a little bit of a problem and I know after today you probably don’t want to help me out…”

“Do you need tomorrow off?” Lyra asks, walking away from Miko the loud cat.

“No, no,” I respond quickly, “It’s just that my daughter’s school is no longer allowing students to stay after hours if they don’t have an activity to do. So normally she catches the last bus home and meets her babysitter here and is babysat until I come home, but now…”

“Now she has to come home earlier and you don’t have a babysitter at that time?” Lyra offers, “Do you want to take afternoons off?”

“I really don’t want to,” I admit, “But I don’t see a way around it. Heather is too little to leave on her own, and I can’t afford to pay the babysitter for an extra four hours a day every day.”

“Hmmm,” Lyra pauses for a while, and I almost thought we’ve disconnected because the phone is so silent when she suddenly says, “I’ll tell you what, to make up for how I spoke to you today, why don’t we agree that Heather can come to the shop every day after school?”

“What?” I ask, surprised at her suggestion.

“She seems like a good kid, and as long as she behaves she can stay in the reception area and do homework and play or whatever,” Lyra continues. I can hear she’s doing something in the background, there’s a clanging sound that makes me think she’s making coffee or something.

“You would be okay with that?”

“Would you be able to get here there every day?” Lyra asks, and I can hear the coffee machine in the background.

I smile and say, “Sure, the bus that takes her home actually drives right past the studio so it shouldn’t be too hard to organize. Are you really sure about this?”

“Yeah, it’s the least I can do after how I treated you.”

“You don’t have to do this, you know; what happened is over and done with and you don’t have to make up for anything.” I don’t want to feel like I’m taking advantage of her mistake, even though a few minutes ago I was still irritated by it.

“I know, but I would feel better if I did. You make the arrangements and from tomorrow she can come to the studio after school, okay?”

---