Page 4 of Not My Fault

“Okay, Taylor, I’m going to shave your arm then place the stencil. If you like it then I’m good to start tattooing.”

“Sounds good.” He looks a little nervous, but he nods. His…companylooks on as I start the process.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” the blonde girl mumbles.

“We promised we would,” the other guy says.

“I know but being here makes it even more real.” The other girl looks around the room nervously.

“We’re getting this as a tribute to a friend of ours who died,” Taylor explains as I begin to tattoo.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, she was sort of wild and brought us all together as friends. And when she got sick, we promised we’d get a tattoo to remember her,” Taylor adds.

“We hoped we wouldn’t have to, none of us like needles,” the blonde says.

“I’m sure she appreciates the sentiment,” I say.

“We’re on our way to her funeral after this,” the redhead adds.

“We thought it would be a good way to get some closure,” The other guy says.

They each have tears in their eyes as I finish tattooing their friend. I’ve done my fair share of memorial tattoos in my life, so this is nothing new. A lot of people don’t realize how cathartic it is to get a tattoo. People like to use it as a therapy of sorts, and it often helps with healing. I’ve seen people commemorate all sorts of things and people on their bodies.

I move on from friend to friend, the last two holding hands as the redhead is tattooed. She squeezes her eyes shut and tries not to squirm. The blonde coaxes her through it, telling her it’ll be okay, and I’m almost done. When the tattoo is all done, she opens one eye slowly and then the other.

“Oh my God,” she says, and I freeze, waiting for the next words. I’ve only had a few people in my chair over the years really regret the tattoo they got.

“What?” the blonde asks.

“I can’t believe she’s gone.” The girl starts to cry as she looks at her tattoo, and I hand her a box of tissues. She takes one, blows into it as hard as she can, and sobs louder.

“Dude, you’re going to fill the room with tears. Save some for the funeral,” Taylor says jokingly.

“I’m sorry.” The blonde gives me a solemn look.

“No worries, I’ll step out and give you a moment. Feel free to come up when you’re ready.” I clean up the important things quickly and leave the rest for when I come back, tossing my gloves in the garbage and heading toward the front.

“Everything okay? Didn’t you have clients?” River looks at me as I come out alone.

“They’re having a moment. It was a memorial tattoo,” I explain.

She nods and I take a sip of water. Everyone already paid, so all I need to do is give them their aftercare card/goodie bag. It has a small bottle of soap, some stickers with our logo, a business card, and a card with the aftercare instructions. I place four of them on the counter and tilt my head down the hall to check on them but they’re walking toward me.

“All good?” I check.

“Yes, thank you for everything,” the blonde says.

“Here are some aftercare goodie bags. Please read the instructions and do the aftercare or they could get infected,” I explain.

“Got it.” Taylor nods.

They head out the door and down the stairs. The shop is empty right now, which wasn’t uncommon. It’s mid-day, and unless it’s the weekend, we don’t get too many walk-ins at this time. River’s cleaning the front desk, and I think about asking her about Cari to see what kind of vibes she’s giving her about me. But I think the better of it. I really don’t want to put River in the middle of anything.

“You okay? You seem antsy.” River raises an eyebrow at me.

“Eh, just nervous energy, I guess. How’s Aspen doing?” I know changing the subject to her wife will take the attention off me.

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