I went back to the office that evening to take care of some paperwork. Things with Hailey’s project needed to be solidified, and I had to check up on some of the other sites. One of the homeless men from one of my projects wanted to interview for a permanent position, and that meant looking over his job record thus far with the company. I needed to evaluate all he’d learned, look at him as an asset to the company instead of someone I was helping, and that required me to be in a place where I was ready to work.

Which meant an evening in my office.

Much to my surprise, Drew was there. Even though he was on the internet surfing through things, it was almost dinnertime. He should’ve been gone by now, and I was wondering if something had gone wrong on a site or something.

“Knock knock,” I said.

“Hey! Fancy seeing you here, stranger.”

“Dick. What’s up? Everything all right?”

“Yeah. Just doing some research,” he said.

“Into what?” I asked.

“Well, the company’s doing so well that I thought about opening my own tattoo shop. I do them on the side anyway, and I’m in need of a new tattoo gun, so why not just open my own little place? Doesn’t have to be much more than me, my things, and a sterile environment.”

“What happened to running the commercial property part of the business we’re starting?” I asked.

“Oh, I still wanna do that, man. But you know how long it took us to get the residential side up and running. It’ll take a year, maybe two, and in the meantime, I could delve into something else. I mean, the business is doing really well. Neither of us are necessary all the time. Some days, I sit around and stare at the fucking wall, dreaming of surfing and shit.”

“Nice to know you’re working hard,” I said, grinning. “That what you’re searching?”

“Huh?”

“A new tattoo gun. Is that what you’re looking up?” I asked.

“Yeah. I need a new one anyway, and the idea just popped into my head.”

“Gotcha. How long you been thinking about this tattooing thing?” I asked.

“About a year.”

“A year? Why am I just hearing about it?”

“I wasn’t really serious about it.”

“But you are now.”

“Look. It’s not something I’m really considering now,” he said.

“Drew, I know you better than that. You don’t talk about shit that’s on your mind. I mean really on your mind. So the fact that you’re bringing this up means it’s important to you, so talk me through it. What would you do if you opened up a side-lining gig tattooing in your own shop? Walk me through the vision.”

“This isn’t one of your projects,” he said.

“Why not? It would be a commercial space. Most buildings like that are. We could put it in the portfolio along with the art gallery to get that part of the business up and going,” I said.

“Speaking of the art gallery, how’s that going? That’s not really your thing. I’m interested to know why you took the job.”

“We’ll talk about that once we’re done with you. Though good job in trying to derail me.”

“I try my hardest at everything, dude,” he said, grinning.

“So. The vision. Paint it for me.”

“Paint it for you?” he asked.

“Shut up and go,” I said.

“Well, it would just be a little shop. I don’t really have a passion to take on employees and make it a big thing. Maybe one other person I could take on as a full-time employee or who could rent a booth or something.”

“All right. How big a space are we talkin’?” I asked.

“Maybe nine hundred square feet. Not much. Enough for someone to come in and sit down, a small area for a check out place to the right, some windows at the front of the shop, and then a small hallway blocked off by a door. A highly sterilized environment.”

“Okay. Okay. Have you priced out inventory for your shop? Hypothetically speaking.”

“I have. Been running numbers and stuff. It fluctuates with the market but between the average rent prices for a space in the part of San Diego I’m looking at, I’d have to clear around three thousand a month to keep inventory stocked, keep the lights going, pay rent, and get myself paid.”

“That’s actually not bad. What part of San Diego you lookin’ at?” I asked.

“The Mission Bay area. Somewhere near the water. Everyone can charge higher prices when they’re near the water, and if I found the right space, I might even be able to give them a water view with their tattoo.”

“Sounds like you’ve really thought this out,” I said.

But all Drew did was shrug.

“Your turn, dude. What gives with this art gallery thing?” he asked.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Well, Hailey isn’t your normal homeless charity demographic. No homeless person is benefitting from this other than working on the job site. It’s fucking commercial property, which is a first for you, and you keep calling the client by her first name. You don’t ever do that shit. Ever.”

“Honestly? I’m not quite sure I know why I’m doing it, but I do know I support her gallery.”

“Why’s that?” he asked.

“She has the same community outreach spirit. Wants to dip into the community and use art therapy as a way to revive the area. I can get behind that.”

“This got anything to do with your brother?” he asked.

“I suppose it does a bit,” I said, sighing. “It was John’s love of art that got me interested in it. He was an amazing painter even from a young age. I mean, come on. You did the tattoo on my back.”

“I did all your tattoos, dude. And I’m using all of them in my portfolio.”

“You know, art was John’s thing. I feel like by helping her, I’m sort of helping him, too,” I said.

“I think this project might be cathartic for you. Especially with the shit that’s going down with your parents.”

“Yeah, they’ve been rough but never this rough,” I said.

“Like I said, I think they’re going through some shit, and they’re not handling it like you are.”

“Obviously,” I said. “And look, this project has me drawing again. Not just blueprints and shit but actual pictures. Hell, she let me design the whole outside of her building and her sign, and she loved the hell out of it.”

My eyes panned over to the wall above Drew. There was a massive painting hanging there, one I’d placed there myself when Drew and I shared this one space. When we had enough money to build my own office space, Drew was insistent I keep it there. It was a drawing John did, and it was the one that formed the basis of the tattoo on my back. It was a picture I’d had blown up and detailed. It was the picture of our family’s cabin we used to go to all the time. The picture on the wall looked a bit different than the one on my back, but I still got lost in it. I could close my eyes and remember us running through the woods and swimming in the creek out back.

That place was the greatest symbol of our childhood innocence. It held memories my brother and I made that no one would ever be able to corrupt. It was one of the reasons why I had it blown up, detailed, and framed. I wanted that reminder of innocence to be there always. To be there to remind me when I lost sight of the happiness that innocence made me feel.

“I wished John could’ve turned more toward his art and less to his drugs,” I said.

“Dude, could I talk to you seriously for a second?” Drew asked.

“What’s up?”

“You’ve been a bit off since the remembrance. I’ve been to every single one, and it’s never taken you this long to bounce back. I’m worried about you, man.”

“I don’t really know what to tell you. I recognize that. I feel it in my bones, but I don’t have a reason or an explanation for you. Something’s just shifted, and I don’t know what it is. It’s frustrating, but I’m trying not to think about it too much.”

“You think it’s the tension with your parents?” he asked.

“Well, I wish they would finally acknowledge their fault in all this too. None of us are fully to blame, but all of us played a part in what happened to John. But they pretend like it didn’t fucking happen and like he didn’t fucking exist. You know they’re removing his pictures from their house?”

“What?”

“Yeah. The last dinner I had with them, there were bare areas on the wall where the color had been displaced. Pictures that had hung there for years with my brother’s smiling face, and they’re gone now. Made me mad as piss.”

“I have no words for that, man. I’m sorry,” he said. “But don’t take all this on yourself. I know you’re doing everything you can to honor your brother’s memory. Taking on the homeless men to help them out. This art gallery. Trying to keep a steady relationship with your parents. But don’t drown yourself in keeping his memory alive. You still have your own life to live, you know.”

“Yeah, and he doesn’t,” I said.

“So, the question becomes would he want you miserable? Or would he want you happy?”

He had a point, and I knew he did. But I had to admit that helping Hailey with her art gallery wasn’t entirely about John. Yes, honoring my brother was there, and yes, I felt his presence whenever I picked up my pencil to draw again, but this project was as much about Hailey as it was about him.

I only wished I understood why.

“He would want me happy,” I said.

“We all know he would, Bryan. We’re all just waiting for you to see that.”

“I think I might’ve made a decision that pushes me in that direction, but I’m not sure if it was a good one.”

“What do you mean, man?”

“Hailey asked me out to dinner, and I said sure.”

“Hailey? Art gallery Hailey?” he asked.

“Yeah. Is that completely unprofessional? Bad luck? Anything like that?”

“You asking if it’s a mistake?”

“That too.”

“Hell no, man. That’s great. Dude. You fucking need a good woman in your life. And even if she’s just a good woman for right now, I haven’t seen a woman on your arm in years. If Hailey holds the same types of community outreach values that you do, that’s saying a lot about her personality, and I haven’t even spent time with the chick.”

“So, you think dinner with her is a good thing?”

“Yeah. Especially since she asked you. Most women aren’t gutsy like that,” he said, grinning.

“She said she asked me because she wanted to repay me for my kindness.”

“Then you take whatever she’ll give you, dude.”

“Seriously?” I asked. “It’s dinner. Not sex.”

“You never know. Those art gallery chicks fly by the seat of their pants. Just take it as it comes. Enjoy yourself. Then tell me all about it afterward.”

“You’re insane, you know that?”

“It’s why you keep me around,” he said.

I felt a little better about it after talking with Drew. Having someone on my side when it came to having dinner with a client settled me a bit about the entire decision. I took one last look at the cabin picture and inhaled the scent of its innocence as my mind wandered back to the cabin picture Hailey had shown me. I didn’t know why I was so drawn to that picture, but I was ecstatic it was one of the paintings she was going to pay me with.

It might not have been drawn by John, but I could use that same reminder of innocence in my own home some days.

Especially after those dinners with my parents.