Epilogue
Tag
Finny jumps into her jeans, tugging them by the waistband as she hops into them. “If you don’t get moving, I’m going without you,” she warns. She glares at me, but her eyes are still hot from what we were just doing. She tips her wrist to look down at her watch. “I told Lark I’d be there five minutes ago.”
I prop my head up in my palm and look at her. “Tell me again why we’re going to the tattoo shop?”
“Because I’m going to have ‘Tag is a horny asshole’ tattooed on my ass,” she tosses back. She rolls her eyes and shoves my arm so that my head falls. “Get up!” she barks.
I really can’t help that I’m making her late. It’s not often that we have someone watching Benji during the day. We both had the day off today, so Marta volunteered to watch Benji for us. Then one thing led to another, and we ended up in bed the whole morning. She just remembered she promised to go with Lark to the tattoo shop.
I grin at her, but I get up to start getting dressed. “Did you tell me why we’re going? Or did I miss that part when you were stripping my clothes off?”
She shakes her head. “I didn’t tell you. It’s not my secret to tell. It’s Lark’s.”
Okay, now I’m really curious. “But–”
She points her cute little finger at me. “If you’re not dressed in two minutes, I’m kicking you in the nuts.”
I laugh, but now I know she’s serious, so I finish getting dressed and brush my teeth and hair. I try to tame my cowlick, but Finny doesn’t seem to mind it. I vaguely remember her holding on tightly to that lock of hair this morning while I ate her out. She has a thing for pulling my hair. I don’t mind, because I have a thing for smacking her ass.
She also has a thing for loving me, and I don’t mind that either.
I don’t know where I’d be right now if I hadn’t met her. I was pretty lost when I came to town a few months ago, and I fell right into her bed, and she fell into my heart and into my mind. She burrowed right down in my soul and I don’t want to ever let her up for air.
Last night, I woke up to find her side of the bed empty. I went to look for her to be sure she was okay, and I found her standing beside Benji’s crib, watching him sleep. She had her hand on his back and she was counting the number of times his chest went up and down.
I walked up behind her and wrapped my arms around her. She leaned into me the way she always does, and rested the back of her head on my chest. “This is what falling feels like,” she said to me. Then she turned in my arms and kissed me, and I agreed with her. It’s like falling over and over, every single day.
For Finny, falling has turned into a good memory, and we make a new one each day. Every time I see her, I fall over and over. If anyone had told me I’d choose to fall on purpose, I’d have called him crazy.
Finny has become a mother to my son. She’s agreed to be my wife, although we still haven’t set a date yet. She’s my everything. With her and Benji, I can do anything.
I’ve been working for the Reeds managing their apartment building, and we moved into an apartment there a couple of months ago. We have our own space, and we love having other people with kids nearby. There’s always one or another of the Reeds around, or their offspring, or their wives. Life around here isn’t boring, that’s for sure.
I walk into the living room, and find Finny standing with the front door open and she’s waving me forward. “Your nuts are in so much trouble,” she mutters at me as I walk by her.
I grab her and pull her against me. “You know you wouldn’t do anything to hurt me,” I say. I kiss her and she melts against me.
Her hand inches down to my waistband, and then I feel her grab my balls. I freeze. She squeezes a little too hard for comfort. “Finny,” I warn.
“I do love you, but I hate to be late,” she says, her lips still touching mine. Her grip turns to a caress, and I pull back as soon as she sets me free. One, because I’m getting hard again. And two, because she’s in a mood.
She turns to walk in front of me, so I slap her ass hard enough to make her yelp. “Teach you to fake harming my family jewels,” I mutter at her. I adjust my junk and get in the elevator with her. She glares at me from the opposite wall, but there’s a smile behind her eyes. And heat. And love. Always love.
“Did you talk to Julia last night?” she asks as we step out onto the street.
I nod. “I did.”
“And?”
“And what?” I jam my hands into my pockets.
“And you had better tell me what she had to say,” she snaps at me.
I grin. “She said she’s coming over this weekend. She wants to take him to the park.”
Julia called us when Benji was about two months old. She wanted to see him, and I was completely against it. But Finny talked to her, and she felt like Julia was sincere in her desire to be a part of Benji’s life. She doesn’t want custody, and she doesn’t want to even take him for a night here and there, but she does want to see photos and she wants to visit him whenever we’ll allow her to. This weekend, she’s going to take him to the park for a few hours.
Finny rubs my arm. “He’ll be fine,” she says. “Kids need their parents’ love.” She looks sad all of a sudden. “Trust me.”
She hasn’t seen her own mother in a month. Every time she visited, the violence escalated. It wasn’t just against her; it was against everyone. They’re trying new meds, and it’s helping somewhat, but Finny isn’t going back until she can do so safely. Or at least I hope she’s not. I’d love for her mother to get better, just for Finny’s sake, but I’m not sure it’s going to happen.
Finny did decide to go to counseling, though, and she’s dealing with the memories of her mother, and the future with her mother, the best way she knows how.
Lark is standing on the sidewalk glaring at us when we come around the corner. “You’re late,” she says.
Finny jerks a thumb in my direction. “Blame Tag. He’s insatiable.”
“Eww,” Lark says and then fakes some hurling.
I laugh and open the door for them.
We step into the tattoo shop, and Lark runs straight into the new tattoo artist. He catches her by the shoulders and steadies her, and silently asks with his eyes if she’s okay. His brows arch and she nods. He lets her go and she adjusts her clothes. Her face is bright red.
Finny’s eyes meet mine and she grins.
The new artist’s name is Ryan Shepherd, and I met him two weeks ago when they had a “welcome to the Reed Brothers” party. Ryan is an artist from NYU, and he went to school with Logan. He’s really good at what he does, which is putting permanent art on people’s bodies. He’s also profoundly deaf. Finny and all her sisters can sign, so they can talk freely with him, but me…not so much. I’m set up to take a class starting next week. It’s hell being the only one in a family who can’t speak the language.
Paul Reed walks out of the back of the shop, along with his wife Friday. “Look who’s here,” Friday says. She looks at us and then at Lark. “What can we do for you?”
Lark plays with a loose string on her long gloves. “I want to get a tattoo,” Lark says. She looks down at her feet instead of at them.
“Did you have something in mind?” Friday asks.
Lark leans over, cups her hand around her mouth and speaks in Friday’s ear. And damn if the curiosity isn’t killing me.
Friday’s eyes skitter briefly toward Lark’s gloves and then she winces. “Oh, I’m afraid I can’t do that. That kind of application is an art all by itself.” She looks at Ryan. “Ryan can, though.” She waves her hands around until he looks at her. “Lark wants to consult with you about a tattoo,” she says, talking and signing to him at the same time.
He signs something back.
“Why you?” she repeats. “Because you’re fucking awesome at what she wants.”
His eyes rake down Lark’s body from head to toe, and I see sweat sheen her forehead.
“Maybe we should come back another time,” I murmur to Finny.
Finny glares at me. “Do you know how much courage it’s taking for her to do this?” she hisses at me. “Shut it.” She draws a hand across her throat like she’s cutting her neck. I’m pretty sure she meant that for me.
Ryan signs something.
“How the fuck am I supposed to know?” Friday tells him. She points to Lark. “Ask her.”
He throws up his hands.
Friday picks his hands up and holds them in front of him like she’s getting him ready. “Talk to her. She might even talk back.”
He signs something really quickly.
Friday rolls her eyes. “Yes, she can sign, dumbass.”
He signs something at Lark and she smiles softly at him. He mouths it at the same time, and I’m guessing he asks if she signs too.
She holds her finger about an inch from her thumb and nods hesitantly.
He motions her toward the back of the shop and she follows him, her head bowed and her steps tentative. He pulls a dark curtain around them, and my protective instinct goes into overdrive.
“Should we go with her?” I ask nobody in particular. I start in that direction, but Finny grabs my elbow.
“Let them be,” she says.
“Why exactly are we here?” I ask.
“Moral support,” Finny says.
Paul pulls up a chair and straddles it backward. “Who did that tattoo on your leg?” he asks me.
I look down at the back of my calf. I have an old-fashioned cross there. I got it when I was twenty. “Just some guy in a tattoo shop,” I reply.
He snorts. “Just some guy in a tattoo shop, huh?”
I nod.
“You should let me hook you up,” Paul offers. “Anything you want. My last appointment just cancelled.”
Friday raises her hand. “I’m free too.” She looks at Finny. “I could fit you in.”
She grins. “Hell yeah.” She goes with Friday to the other side of the shop, and they start to talk about designs with their heads together.
“So, I have an idea,” I tell Paul.
He grins at me. “You don’t say.”
He and I sit down together while he sketches something up.
“That’s it,” I say, when he has it right. Friday has to come and approve it, but I make her promise not to tell Finny what it is. And Finny won’t tell me what hers is. We sit on opposite sides of the room, and Friday works on Finny while Paul works on me.
“Do you think Lark is okay?” I ask, looking toward the back of the shop. “Shouldn’t we go check on her?”
Paul grins. “She’s fine.”
“I think he likes her a little too much. Did you see the way he was looking at her?”
Paul chortles. “You don’t have to worry about that one.”
“Why? Is he gay?” I ask. Now I’m confused.
Friday laughs from the other side of the shop. “God, no. He’s straight. But…” She lets her voice trail off.
“But what?” I ask. I wince as Paul hits a particularly sensitive spot.
“He only dates deaf girls,” Friday tells me.
Well, that’s not what I expected to hear. “Why?”
“He was born into a deaf family. Deaf parents. Deaf grandparents. He only dates deaf girls.”
“Oh.” Why doesn’t that make me feel better? “Are you sure she’s okay?”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Friday cries out. She sets her machine to the side and stalks to the back of the shop on those super-high heels she wears. She jiggles the curtain to let them know she’s there. Ryan pulls it to the side and invites her in. She’s only gone for a minute or two but when she comes back, she’s blinking back tears. She clears her throat. “She’s fine.”
“You promise?” Finny asks. She grabs on to Friday’s forearm and makes her look at her.
“I promise,” she says. Her voice is raw and abraded.
“Okay.” Finny releases a sigh and Friday gets back to work.
Everyone is quiet until Lark comes out of the back of the shop. “That’s all we can do today,” she says. She has her gloves pulled up to her elbows but I can see clear plastic wrap extending from the sleeve on one arm.
Ryan follows her out and squeezes Lark’s shoulder. She smiles back at him.
“So, what’s Ryan like?” Finny whispers.
Lark looks at him again. “Don’t talk about him like he’s not here,” she says, and she signs while she talks. Her cheeks flush. “And he’s very nice.”
He grins at her, but doesn’t sign anything.
Finny looks at me and holds a finger to her lips. Apparently I’m not supposed to make a comment about how the two of them are looking at one another.
“What are you guys getting?” Lark asks.
She comes over to look at mine. Mine isn’t quite finished. Paul still has to shade it in.
“Oh…” she breathes.
Then she goes to look at Finny’s and does the same thing.
“You guys are so meant for one another,” she says on a giggle. “You even got them in the same places on your bodies.”
Finny gets done first, so she comes to let me see her new ink. She had it put on her upper shoulder, right where I like to kiss her the most.
“It’s you and me and Benji,” she says. “You guys are my heartbeat. Even more important to me than my music, and I’ve had a love affair with music for a very long time.”
She leans over to look at the spot Paul is working on. “Can I see yours?”
Paul sits back so he can show her. It’s not quiet done yet, but it’s close enough.
“Wow,” she says. She kisses me, and I know she loves it as much as I do.
“It’s always going to be me and you and Benji.”
“Unless maybe it’ll be me and you and Benji and…one more…” She lets her voice trail off.
My heart starts to thud. “Are you…?”
She holds up her hands to stop me. “Oh, God, no. It was just an idea…” She waits with a wince on her face.
“A really awesome idea,” I tell her.
“Friday left room for another name,” she says. She grins at me and kisses me again.
I would like nothing more than to marry her and have more kids with her, particularly now that I have the means to support her.
“I can’t run a machine with you two kissing over it,” Paul grouses.
Finny sticks out her tongue at Paul and goes to talk with Friday.
Lark’s stomach growls loudly. “I’m hungry.” She lays a hand on her belly.
Paul chuckles. “You better get some food, because he can’t leave yet.”
Lark looks at Ryan. “You want some lunch?” she asks, signing while she talks.
He shrugs and gets to his feet as if to say, Why not?
They leave together, and Finny and I look at one another and grin.
“He doesn’t date hearing girls,” Paul says again. “It’s his rule.”
Finny laughs. “I had rules too. I think we broke all of them when Tag and I got together.”
“Don’t get your hopes up,” Paul says.
But he’s grinning, too. And Friday…well, she looks like she’s plotting.
“Stay out of it, Friday,” Paul growls.
She turns her back to him and ignores him, which I think is normal for her. Paul pretends to complain, but inside I think he’s grinning too.
And so am I.