Page 38 of Four Tattoos

“That’s a very painful spot, because the bone is so close to the skin there. It’s almost as painful as the rib cage.”

“Oh.”

“Is your goal to have it in a place that will be hidden by clothing?”

When she nods, Christian says, “Your lower back will be the least painful area.”

Rose bites her lip, thinking. “I want it somewhere I’ll be able to see it without looking in a mirror, though.”

“How about the top of your thigh?” Hutch suggests. “It’ll show when you’re wearing a bathing suit, but be hidden under most clothes.”

She hesitates, but then nods, her eyes twinkling. “It’ll be close to the part of my body you make feel so good.”

“We’ll go work out a plan,” Hutch tells her. “Would you like something to drink?”

“Water would be great.”

It’s a shame that alcohol and tattoos don’t mix, because Rose could use something to help her relax.

“You know you don’t have to go through with this,” I say.

“I want to. I’m just nervous.”

“It’ll be fine.” I lift her chin so she meets my eyes and can be reassured by what she sees there, then I give her a quick kiss. “We’ll be right back.”

The four of us convene around the table up front, sketchpads between us. Christian presents his idea first, and amazingly, the rest of us quickly get on board. Doing a rose seems cliche, but it’s such a common theme in tattoos that it seems fitting. To meet Rose’s desire for us to collaborate, we decide to split the flower into quadrants, each of us adding our own unique style to the separate sections.

When we show our plan to Rose, her eyes light up and some of her nervousness visibly eases. “I love it! It’s perfect.”

“Why don’t you take off your pants, and we’ll show you the placement,” Hutch says. “The doors are locked, so you don’t have to worry about anyone coming in.”

As she slides her shorts down off of her hips, she looks to Christian. “Do you remember the first time I came in here? You were working on a woman whose breasts were exposed. I was really shocked that you didn’t shield her.”

He seems surprised by her recollection. “I offered to cover her when I heard you come in. It was her choice to sit there that way. I think she gets off on people seeing her tits.”

Rose’s brows lift, and her mouth forms a little circle as she says, “Oh.”

“I guess that gave you a bad impression of me,” Christian says.

“That, and the fact that you scowled at me!” She looks around at the rest of us, playfully accusatory. “You all did.”

“Guess you’ve gotten used to that,” Zipper says, his current scowl looking more devilish than grumpy as Rose stands there in her little pink panties.

Hutch shows her where we plan to position the tattoo, and when Rose says she’s happy with it, he prepares a stencil. Christian and I would be fine with freehand, but Hutch prefers stencils, so that's what we’ll go with.

While he’s transferring the artwork to her prepared skin, she asks, “Whyareyou so grumpy all the time?” She doesn’t direct her question to any of us specifically, but mostly looks at Zipper, Christian, and me.

Though Zipper’s usually the last to speak, this time he’s the first. “The world is fucked up beyond redemption. No other outlook makes sense.”

She frowns at this, and sits with it a moment before asking, “So you don’t think I have the right outlook on life?”

When Zipper doesn’t respond, I jump in. “I admire your outlook, Rose. And your ability to stay positive even after shit’s been thrown at you, if you’ll excuse my language. You work harder than most people, and you never complain about it. You lost your mother much too young, and you have every right to be angry about the unfairness of that, but you carry on with a smile.”

“I agree,” Hutch says.

Rose is silent for several minutes as the transfer sets and we get our equipment ready. Before Hutch peels off the paper, she says, “I suppose after my mom died, I felt pressure to carry on with a smile. I always had a positive disposition, but after she passed away, I felt like I had to keep looking happy so people wouldn’t feel sorry for me. Plus, I didn’t want to make things any harder on my brother, since he had so many more responsibilities than I did.”

“You shouldn’t have felt obligated to fake your emotions,” Hutch says.

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