Page 86 of An Overdue Match
“Honestly? I’m not sure. They’ve been surprising me lately—like with Grampie’s new macabre hobby—so anything is possible, I guess.”
“And you? No regrets?”
There’s a vulnerability in his tone. He’d spent hours designing and redesigning the piece, wanting to make it perfect for me.
And it is. Absolutely perfect.
Intricate and delicate fine lines weave in a pleasing pattern over the crown of my head, dipping down like a jeweled widow’s peak across my would-be hairline. The head of a mythical, majestic phoenix perches over the top of one ear, its fiery feathers curving along the base of my skull, evaporating into a garden of flowers: peonies, daisies, and—my favorite—an exact replica of the rose that decorates the side of Tai’s ownneck. The same lines and rich tones that have mesmerized me since the first time I ever laid eyes on them.
I’d cried when I saw my reflection in the mirror when Tai had finished the tattoo. I’d never told him my thoughts of the phoenix, how I could relate to the symbolism of regeneration and resilience. Looking at myself with Tai’s art marked into my skin, it was like I was able to see myself through his eyes for the first time. I felt stronger and more empowered than maybe I had felt in my whole life.
I felt—feel—loved.
“Absolutely zero regrets.”
Tai’s throat bobs. This whole experience has been a bit emotional for the both of us.
“That’s good,” he says, his voice thick.
My phone buzzes again, this time with an incoming call. Penelope’s name flashes on the screen. I tap the green accept icon. “Hello, Penelope. Before you start to freak out, yes, we’re almost there.”
“And you remembered the backdrop with Granny and Grampie’s letters displayed? And the personalized stationery we’re using in lieu of a guestbook, along with the keepsake box to keep the letters in? Oh, and you didn’t forget your vintage typewriter, did you? We need that as decoration for the—”
“Penelope, stop. I have everything. I had it the first time you texted a reminder. I had it the fifth time you texted a reminder. I have it now. Stop stressing.”
“Right. Sorry. It’s just, it’s Granny and Grampie, you know? I want the party to be perfect for them.”
“I know, and it will be.”
She takes a deep breath. “How far out did you say you were?”
I scan out the window, noticing certain landmarks. “We should be there in about ten minutes.”
“Okay, good. Ten minutes is good.”
“Try not to have an aneurysm before then.”
“Yeah, okay. I’ll try,” she says way too seriously before hanging up.
“Your sister’s stressed?” Tai flicks on the blinker and merges onto the exit ramp.
“That’s an understatement.” We’ve been working on this party for months, though. Nothing is going to detract from our grandparents’ big day.
A realization bolts into my mind, echoing in my ears like thunder. “Oh no!”
“What? What is it?” Tai shoots a quick look at my face, the car decelerating. My outburst must have made him lift his foot off the gas pedal.
I slump down in the passenger seat. “It’s my grandparents’ big day.”
“And...”
I straighten. “And I’m showing up like this.” All ten of my fingers point to the artwork covering the curves of my head. “It’s like someone proposing at their friend’s wedding, stealing the attention when everyone should be celebrating the newlyweds.”
What was I thinking? My grandparents’ anniversary party isn’t the time or place to step out of the shadows. The spotlight should be on them. If I arrive without a wig, without trying my hardest to blend in and not make a statement, everyone’s going to be talking about me instead of focusing on Granny and Grampie’s epic love story.
But I didn’t bring a wig with me. Or a scarf. I have no way to cover up. Maybe Penelope—
“Or, and hear me out here—” Tai interrupts my downward spiral. “They love you so much that the greatest gift you could give them is by being your true, authentic self.”
