Page 17 of Inked Heart

Iwas feeling blindsided by the way he sprung this breakfast meeting on me, but after hearing our baby’s heartbeat and the ridiculously sweet things he said to me, I forgave him.

Estonia is super sweet, but I can tell right away that she isn’t El’s mom. She has beautiful caramel skin like Carrie Ann and long dark hair.

“Dulce niña, tell us about yourself.” She says after she sets her menu down. I quickly scan the menu and do the same.

“Well, I am twenty-three and a tattoo artist. I work at my family’s shop and I like to cook and bake. That’s about it.”

“Is, this the tattoo shop, you mentioned, El?”

“Yes. It’s right down town.”

“El said you were looking for a job? Did you find one?” I ask. I am slightly mesmerized by her. Her skin is flawless. Her day of the dead sleeve of tattoos are amazing. She has amazing eyelashes and a badass Monroe piercing. She looks exotic and like she would be the life of the party.

“Not yet. I was going to stop by the shop next week after I come back from Washington. Are you guys still hiring?” For some reason, I really like this girl. She’d fit right in with the girls and me.

“Yes. Just come in at ten on whichever day you choose. That’s when we open. I’ll get you up to speed before my first appointment of the day.”

“You are hiring me? No questions asked?”

“Yeah. I get a good vibe from you.” I say chuckling.

“Awesome. I feel like I should tell you I have a son. He’s one and goes to daycare and my mom watches him too.”

“That is no problem. I bet he is adorable.” I say.

“Oh, he is. I have pictures.” All mommies have pictures for days, I think to myself. When she hands me her phone and I glance down at it, I get a weird sense of Deja vu. His eyes are so familiar, but I cannot put my finger on it.

“Carrie, he is precious. What’s his name?”

“DJ.”

“How long have you been married?”

“Oh, I am not married. He is the product of a one-night stand.” She says with equal parts shame and nonchalance.

That mirrors my situation with El, but through fate he found me again. I realize I want that for Carrie too.

“I am not ashamed of it, Kitty. I love my son and I even love his father, even though I don’t know anything about him.”

“That’s great. Maybe you’ll find him again one day.” I say hopefully.

“Doubtful.” She says with tears in eyes.

The waiter comes over, thankfully, and we order. We only chit-chat, but I know I already love these ladies. I look over at El and notice his profile. His beard is starting to get thick and I love it. I reach out and put my hand on his thigh. He puts his hand on mine and entwines our fingers. I only ordered bacon and toast, so I can remain connected to him while I eat. What has happened to me? I crave his touch, even simple ones that aren’t meant to be sexy.

Over the course of our conversation, I discover his mom is from Argentina. I make plans with her for lunch, two days next week. There is an Argentine restaurant a few doors from the shop. The food there is fabulous, and I devour it at least three times week.

After breakfast, we head to IKEA in Bloomington. I am freaking love that place. I saw a crib online last week that has lime green drawers under it. El is going to put it together. My man can put shit together and I don’t think there is anything hotter. Once we get in the truck and on the road, I ask him the question that’s been on my mind.

“Tell me about your parents. I assume Estonia is your step mom?”

“She is, but she is my mother in every way that counts. My birth mother, Sabrina, left my father two days after I was born. My father raised me on his own for seven years, before he rekindled a romance with his high school sweetheart, Estonia. She was an exchange student and left after her time here, but eventually her job moved her here and the rest is history. Carrie Ann was born when I was twelve. She was the prettiest baby.” He says.

“I am glad you guys get along so well. You hear all of these horror stories about evil stepmothers.”

“Not Estonia. She is one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. Unless you get a D in history and then the Spanish pops out.”

“That’s great, babe.” That’s the first time I’ve tried a nickname on him. I like it.

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