Page 48 of The Chances We Take

“Can you send me those assets for the signing coming up in a few weeks? Mm-hmm, yeah, I can put that all together… Okay, thanks. Mm-bye.” I hung up the phone with one of my coworkers back at Novel Imaginations.

I pulled up the shared folder of assets on my computer, mentally recounting my to-do list. I had a few posts I needed to schedule for the next couple weeks so I wouldn’t have to worry about them during the wedding festivities and some copy I needed to draft. I was grateful for a job that allowed me to work remotely, especially since it gave me the opportunity to travel and see Ellison and the boys for long stretches of time, but sometimes it made me feel kind of disconnected from everyone else at the bookstore.

I started working on pulling the graphics that I needed to schedule and their corresponding social media copy I’d drafted a few days ago, when Ellison walked around the corner and stood in front of the couch where I was sitting.

“Hey, Is. I, uh, I’m doing something today, and I don’t want to go alone,” Ellison said awkwardly as she crossed her arms and rubbed the toe of her boot across the floor.

“Okay, should I be worried?” I raised an eyebrow.

Ellison was the rational one of the two of us. She rarely did things on a whim, so for her to be this nervous, it kind of concerned me.

“No, no, no. It’s not bad. I…” she trailed off, and I gave her an expectant look to continue.

“You’re not thinking of calling off the wedding, right?” I laughed nervously. That was the last thing any of us needed, especially Colter.

“God, no! No, I scheduled a tattoo appointment,” she rattled out. “I’m just nervous, I guess. I’ve never thought of getting a tattoo, but I want to get one for my dad.”

I looked her in the face, noticing a glassy sheen forming over her eyes.

“I…I want him to be with me for the wedding.”

A pang hit me. It was all making sense. Ellison had told me once that she hadn’t wanted to get a tattoo for her dad because it would’ve been too painful of a reminder. And she wouldn’t have known what to get anyway, because everything she had thought of was related to rodeo. But since she had come to terms with everything over the last couple years of being with Colter, I knew this was a huge step for her in her healing.

“Oh, Ells.” I pulled her close to me and wrapped in a hug. “Of course, I’ll go with you. I think your dad would have loved that.”

“Thank you, Isa. What would I do without you?” she whispered.

“You’d be just fine, but thanks for the confidence boost.” I giggled. It had become an inside joke between us ever since I said the phrase two years ago when she stayed in Montana after Colter’s injury.

“Welcome in, ladies! What can I do for you?” a tatted employee greeted us as we walked in the door.

Ellison wrung her hands. “I have an appointment.”

I could tell she was nervous. Her hands practically shook if she wasn’t clasping them together.

“What’s your name, honey?” she asked. She paused then started furiously typing after Ellison gave her her name. “Perfect! Well, you can have a seat over there and we’ll get started, all right?”

We walked over to some plush couches and sat down.

“Are you nervous?” I asked, which was probably a stupid question, but I wasn’t sure what else to say.

“Yes.” She covered her face with her hands before laughing. “I don’t know if I can handle it.”

“I’ll be right there to hold your hand,” I reassured her. I got a small tattoo in college, so I knew the pain. It really depended on the spot you got it, but I never thought it was bad. My tattoo—a map of stars—was a bit hidden, too, just below my ribs.

A girl, probably around our age, with dark hair and blonde money pieces came over to us with an iPad. “Hey, Ellison! I’m Willow, and I’ll be your artist today. Do you have an idea of what you’re looking to get?”

Ellison told her what she was thinking as the artist nodded and wrote down some notes.

“All right, I’ll be right back, I’m just going to draw this up and then I’ll print out some different sizes that you can look at!” She smiled at us and then disappeared to the back.

“I think it’s going to look beautiful, Ellie.” I rested my hand on top of hers, and she gave it a squeeze.

“I hope so.” She gave me a nervous grin.

About fifteen minutes later, Willow had the design drawn up and Ellison chose the size she wanted, asking for my opinion every time she held the pieces of paper againsther skin. She already knew where she wanted to get the tattoo—on the back of her right arm above her elbow.

It took another five minutes or so to get the stencil placed perfectly where she wanted it then Willow was ready to start.

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