R. Griffin - Seamless

“Oh yeah,” Millie replied. “I sat in an eight hour meeting about the re-authorization of I.D.E.A.” She was stirring two separate pots of pasta and spaghetti sauce, her normal Wednesday meal.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but any eight hour meeting sounds horrible.” She opened the oven and saw garlic bread baking. The smell alone made her mouth water.

“You have no clue how bored I was today.” Pulling out the strainer, Millie threw a piece of pasta at Cooper. “I mean, I was so bored I looked at tattoos on Pinterest. Your pictures are on there, did you know that?”

“What the fuck is Pinterest?” Stella inquired as she opened the fridge and pulled out the white wine she opened last night.

“As healthy as you are, you sure do drink a lot,” Millie commented.

Stella snorted. “You’ve know me for five years and you’re just now realizing this?” She raised her eyebrows.

Millie shrugged. “Pour me a glass.” Millie was still in the dress she wore to work, her cobalt shoes kicked off to the side. Her dress was black and gathered at the waist, but the collar was wide and open.

“Where are the boys?”

“I think they’re playing softball on the mall tonight.”

“Why didn’t they ask me to play?” she wondered out loud.

“Because you have a broken hand, jackass.”

“Oh, that’s true,” Stella acknowledged, setting Millie’s wine on the counter. “Duh.” Stella went over to the couch and sat down with her wine.

“Stella…you okay?” Millie didn’t look at Stella, but continued to make their dinner. She didn’t want Stella to think this was some sort of intervention. “You know I love you, but I’m worried about you. First the Jamie run-in and now you’ve basically moved in.”

“I…” Stella wasn’t offended by Millie’s statement; she understood. “I’m just having a really hard time being by myself.” She took a sip of her wine. “I’ve never lived alone,” she admitted. “To be honest, all my thoughts start swirling around in my head when I’m alone and it’s quiet. I haven’t figured out how to turn it off. I’m trying, but I haven’t got it mastered yet. It helps to be around people until I go to sleep.”

“First of all, you’d love living by yourself. You can do whatever you want—walk around naked, eat out of containers, AND watch whatever TV shows you want.” Millie stuck her finger in the sauce again and tasted it. “Perfect.”

As she began mixing the pasta with the sauce, Patrick and Billy came in the front door.

“Just in time,” Stella commented.

“We wouldn’t miss the Hump Day spaghetti.” Billy grinned as he sat down next to Stella on the couch. “What up?” His eyes raked over her strappy yoga tank top. “See, Millie, this is appropriate attire—if you have to wear clothes, that is—for this house. Spandex and strappy things.” He waggled a finger at her. “Do it.”

Patrick walked to Millie and kissed her cheek, whispering something in her ear. She giggled and he slapped her ass as he turned to walk into their room.

“Did you win?” Stella asked.

“I always win,” Billy nodded. “Our team, not so much. There are too many nerds on the team for Patrick and me to make up for.”

“You’re a nerd too.” Stella laughed.

“Yes, but I can play ball.” Billy turned on his video game. “You staying here tonight?”

Stella looked over to where Millie was still messing with dinner. “No, I think I’ll head home after dinner.”

“Damn, I was hoping you’d get drunk and take your top off,” Billy quipped.

Stella almost choked trying not to spit her wine all over the couch. At least Billy never changed.

A couple of nights later, Stella pulled her car into Georgetown. The November air was crisp and the sky was clear; she actually took a moment to appreciate the beautiful stillness of the late fall night. She parallel parked her car on the second try and shivered in her light coat and dress as she hurried down the street to Skins and Needles. When she opened the door, she saw Cory and Richard involved in a heated discussion. It was her first time back in the shop since they allowed the tattoo photos to be used in the media frenzy last year. No matter what they might think, she actually didn’t blame them. She’d agreed to sit for those photos and didn’t have a problem with them being used. It was the more personal photos that haunted her dreams. The photo of her and Cooper lying on Jamie’s grave made her want to vomit every time she saw it.

“Hey, guys,” she said with a half wave.

Richard gave an “eat shit” look to Cory and turned to face Stella. “Hey, Stella. How’s my girl?” He gave her a one-armed hug and moved her towards his station.

“What happened to your arm?” Cory asked.

“I broke a bone in my hand. Awesome, huh?” she answered Cory first and then looked at Richard. “Pretty good. So, you got my email, right?”

He nodded. “Why are you so dressed up?”

“I know you’ve never seen me in real clothes, Richard, but I do have a real job.” She chuckled. “I can keep them on for these tattoos.” She self-consciously pulled the hem of her navy sheath dress.

“You broke your hand?” he asked.

“Yep, pretty, isn’t it?” She nodded toward the khaki-colored cast on her right hand.

Richard clapped his hands once, breaking up the uncomfortable conversation. “Let’s get going then. I got your email with want you want. I like it—simple and meaningful.”

They left Cory behind the counter and walked toward Richard’s station. He pulled out a drawer and started rummaging around.

“You sure you’re doing okay?” he asked, not looking at her.

She nodded, not giving in to the prickle at the back of her eyes. She sat in his tattoo chair and watched him pull out two stencils. Since she’d run into Jamie she’d been trying not to have a complete fucking breakdown; these tattoos would help her be okay.

“Which do you want to do first?” Richard asked, looking around his station for something.

Stella couldn’t speak yet; she would not cry in public. She pointed to the smaller of the two tattoos on the printout. She was getting them both tonight, but she needed to start with that one.

Richard nodded and started arranging all the instruments. “You won’t get his name tattooed on you, but you’ll do this?”

Stella found her voice. “Yep. I want him to know how much I love him, but that doesn’t mean I’ll put his name on my body. This is a true statement and will be a true statement even after he leaves me.” She put her left arm out where Richard could reach her hand.

Richard shook his head. “What makes you think he’s going to leave?”

Stella smiled sadly at Richard. “He’s smart.”

* * *

After Richard finished with the first tattoo, he took a break. Stella laid her back against the chair and closed her eyes, willing her emotions to go away. His voice jarred her back to reality sooner than she expected.

“You want it on your right bicep?”

Stella’s eyes popped open. “Yep.”

“This is the script you wanted, right?” He held the stencil up for her to examine.

“That’s it.” She smiled.

Richard smiled back, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Pretty heavy shit, right?”

“Right.”

“So Stella, what’s been going on? I haven’t seen you in a while,” he commented, making small talk, trying to keep things light.

“Trying to keep a low profile.” Stella grimaced as the needle dug into her flesh. “I’m sure my new tattoos are trending on Twitter right now.” This was probably accurate; her phone had been dinging and beeping so much Richard had her put it on silent.

“Shit, I can’t even imagine how hard it must be to be so exposed. I’m sorry we contributed to that.” Richard looked pointedly at Cory, who was pretending not to eavesdrop from the counter. “Wasn’t my decision.”

“It’s okay, Richard. Believe me, between bikini shots and me running, the tattoo photos were the best ones,” she said sincerely.

He smiled and applied more needles to her skin. “I don’t really watch TV.”

“Oh, then you didn’t get to see me running in slow motion!” Stella sighed. “Apparently it was Must See TV.”

“I just felt like we were adding to your pain.” Richard didn’t look at her when he spoke.

“Richard, my pain is so all-consuming, I can’t even tell the level of it. No worries.”

“Okay.” He went back to his tattoo. “But, you’re okay?”

“I’m trying, Richard,” she answered honestly and quietly. “There’s just so much that I’m not in control of. I do appreciate that I’m not on the news every day unless I’m being paid to be there. And the cameras have finally left the lawn.”

“It was that bad?”

“Yes, it was that fucking bad.” She was incredulous. “It was horrific.”

“I’m afraid I missed that,” he shrugged and furrowed his brow in concentration.

“Well, it was really intrusive for a while, but since my interview after the trial, things have died down a bit.”

“That’s good, right?” He wiped her arm with a dry cloth.

“Oh, yes. Sometimes I can go out to eat and run without feeling like it’ll be on the news. I’ve appreciated getting a little semblance of normal back for sure.” That wasn’t totally accurate, but she was hoping for normal.

Richard’s eyes glazed over a bit as he focused on her arm. After what seemed like hours, he leaned back on his stool. This tattoo didn’t hurt as much as the tattoos on her back. She figured it was because they were on bone and not muscle. She was certainly racking up the body art—her mother would be so pleased—but they each meant so much to her. The only tattoo she regretted was “the big one,” the one she got after Jamie “died.” The problem with that one was that now that she knew the reason she’d gotten it was a lie, it left her feeling unsettled, and the hole that was added to it didn’t help any. Though it was still a pretty fucking accurate depiction of what she felt at the time.

“Let’s see,” Stella said as Richard sat back and examined his work.

He held her left hand, helping her get out of the chair. Stella looked at her bicep in the mirror. It looked good. On her right bicep, in black ink, it read:

Hell is empty, all the devils are here

That one statement encompassed how she felt at this moment in her life. Everything she feared was swirling around her and it was just a matter of time before she became a casualty of her circumstances. It scared her and liberated her. It made her love George more fiercely, but made her want to run from him even faster than before.

Stella smiled at Richard. “Thanks, it’s perfect, as usual.”

Richard pulled her into him. “You know I didn’t have anything to do with those pictures, right?”

“It’s fine Richard, really. Those are yours to do with whatever you want.” She pulled back and looked in his eyes. “Seriously, no worries. I had bigger issues to deal with.”

“I know, Stella. It was good to see you. Be careful,” he said in farewell.

Her eyes followed him as he went out back to smoke, then she walked over to Cory at the register and pulled her wallet out of her purse.

Cory put his hands up in a gesture that looked like surrender. “Stella, put your money away. We’re giving you these tattoos for free.”

Stella was shocked. “What? Why?”

“Well, the pictures have given us so much business. It was advertising that we could never have paid for.” Cory walked around the counter and embraced her. “Thank you.”

“Well, you guys are the best and everyone on God’s green earth has seen the tattoo on my back, so it might as well give you some business.”

“Some business?” Cory was bemused. “Your advertising alone paid my salary last month.” He looked at her bandaged bicep. “I hope all your devils are far away from here.”

Stella smiled, it was her fake smile. “Thanks, Cory.”

She emerged from the tattoo parlor with a bandage around her left ring finger and her right bicep. She felt the demons following her. Her tattoo was a current picture of how she felt; she was fighting devils even when she couldn’t see them on a daily basis. Would it ever end?

As soon as she got into her car, she let her emotions take over and tears ran down her face. I’m so fucking tired of crying. After three seconds, she stiffened her spine and started driving over the Key Bridge to meet Patrick and Millie at Café Asia; sushi and Kirin were necessary today.