Identity of the Heart (A Hidden Hearts Novel Book 1) Page 10

  Rogue is going to be an absolute star in her own right. It won’t be very many months before she’ll be totally out-tattooing me. She’ll have her own list of clientele that will far exceed mine. I’m a decent artist and I take pride in my work, but I don’t have a fraction of the talent of Rogue. The breadth of her skill is amazing. She can do everything from portraits to pop art, to vintage pinup girls, intricate scrollwork, and old-school tattoos. I haven’t seen her run across too much that she can’t handle. Her only problem right now is her overwhelming lack of confidence in her own skills. If she had as much confidence as she has raw talent, she would be meteoric, even right now. She would have clients lining up around the building even though she hasn’t completely finished her training. She’s just that good.

  “You didn’t fall asleep, did you? I thought you were getting us lunch?” Ivy asks as she pokes me with the end of the pencil she’s using to make the stencil for my tattoo.

  I grab the pencil from her and instinctively start to sharpen it. I have this weird thing about pencil sharpeners. I always have, even as a child.

  Rogue slaps my hand away and chides, “Knock it off, I just got those to where I like them. What’s up with you? You’re staring off into space again.”

  “Sorry, I was just thinking about what you said. I was trying to figure out what makes you and Ivy so different, and why she didn’t fall into my friend zone.”

  Rogue snickers at me, “You can say that again! The pheromones spilling off the two of you was something to behold. It was like watching an exotic mating dance or something.”

  “Well, as my favorite teacher once put it, I definitely have the warm fuzzies when I’m around her.”

  “I’m still trying to wrap my brain around the fact that I even have a sister, and the fact that you’re well on your way to falling head over heels in love with her when she looks exactly like me is just a little too much of a mind bender for me. Part of me wants to stand up and cheer that you finally found someone whose IQ is higher than her bra size, but the other part of me wonders, if you fell so hard for someone who looks just like me—why you didn’t fall for me?”

  I rake my hand violently through my hair causing it to stick up even more. “Rogue, I’ve thought about that a lot. In one way it’s really weird because you guys do look almost identical, but once you get deeper than the surface, you’re really not all that much alike. You’re both funny, but in completely different ways. The same is true about your toughness and your beauty. It’s almost as if you are two sides of the same coin.”

  “I know this is going to sound stupid, but you’ve been my friend for so long, I just hope she’s not a new and improved version of me and that you don’t just throw our friendship away.”

  I stand up and hug her as I head toward the door, “No matter what happens between me and Ivy, you will always be my best friend and I will always love you. Nothing will ever change that. Now, I’m going to go get something to eat because obviously hunger is starting to affect your judgment.”

  MY HANDS ARE SHAKING AS I tape the stencil to Marcus’s arm. I’m trying to pretend like he’s any other client. This is definitely not my first tattoo. I’ve been tattooing on real-live people for about eight months now, however most of my tattoos have been small pieces like butterflies, stars, anchors, dice and alligators. I’m always surprised at how many people in Florida want alligator and shark tattoos. It must be a cultural thing here. I was so glad to graduate from tattooing on pork butts to real people, but I still get terrifyingly nervous. If I’d had time to think about this too far in advance, I probably would have completely psyched myself out. Some of Marcus’s tats have been done by really famous people, like the ones who have their own reality TV shows on cable

  I clear my throat nervously as I ask, “This is your last chance; are you sure you don’t want to look? I could be putting the Care Bears on here or something.”

  Marcus shrugs and winks at me as he replies, “I guess there could be worse things. I kinda liked the little green guy with the shamrock on his chest.”

  Despite my best attempt to be professional, Marcus cracks me up as usual. “You’re crazy, you know that?”

  “I’m not crazy, I just know you’re going to a do a great job. Now, just relax and breathe, you’ve got this.”

  I methodically line up my tools as Marcus walks over to the stereo and turns it on to Bruce Hornsby. I turn around with a questioning glance. “That’s not really your kind of music Marc, what are you doing?”

  He grins at me as he responds, “Well, I’m not really the one who needs to be relaxed here, am I? I know that this stuff puts you into some sort of mental zone where you’re all chilled out, so that’s probably a good place for you to be.”

  I take a deep breath as I smile at his generosity, “Thanks Marc, I really appreciate that. I don’t think I could’ve tattooed to Led Zeppelin.”

  After Marc lays down, I start to work on the delicate outline of my design. As he predicted, as soon as the needle starts rhythmically piercing his skin, he drifts off into a light sleep. After about an hour and a half, Ivy and Tristan come through the front door. Marcus is so out of it that he doesn’t even hear the chime. I pantomime my desire for them to be quiet until I finish the color that I’m currently working on. I set the tattoo machine down and rush over to the seats to talk to them.

  “Hi guys! Do you mind if I work for a few more minutes? I’m almost finished and as you can see, Marcus is in a pretty good headspace right now so what I’m doing isn’t bothering him. If I could, I’d like to finish up rather than start over on another day.”

  Ivy takes a look at Marcus sleeping on the tattoo chair and comments as she fans herself, “No, I don’t think it will be hard for me at all to watch that for a few more minutes. I’ve always wanted to see what this is like. I have a few ideas for a tattoo. In fact, I brought my drawing pad with me. Maybe you can tell me if my ideas are any good after you’re done with Marcus. I’ve never even been in a tattoo parlor before today. I don’t know if I’ll be brave enough to do this, but I’ve always wanted to. It might be educational for me to see how it really works.”

  Tristan shrugs as he answers, “I’m on whatever schedule you guys are on. This is a vacation for me. I might look around and see about ideas for adding to my own ink.”

  “You have ink?” Ivy and I ask simultaneously as I resume working on Marcus’s tattoo.

  “Yes,” Tristan answers with his eyebrow raised. “Did I ever give the impression that I was anti-tattoo?”

  “Where is your tattoo?” Ivy asks, astonishment crossing her face.

  “I don’t know that I should reveal such a private thing to my client,” Tristan answers.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude— I didn’t realize it was so personal—” Ivy stammers.

  Obviously Ivy missed the teasing glint in Tristan’s eyes. I turn to Tristan. “She thought you were serious you know. You should probably let her off the hook.”

  Tristan unfastens a couple of buttons and I have to remind myself that I’m in the middle of a tattoo. Yet it doesn’t escape my notice that for a computer geek, Tristan has a nice set of muscles. As he pulls his shirt aside, I notice that on his pectoral muscle he has a series of zeroes and ones.

  “I know that it’s computer code for something, but I have no idea what it means.” I admit.

  Tristan shoots me an admiring smile. “Very good, most people don’t even recognize binary code. You wouldn’t believe how many people try to guess what language this is written in and try to decipher it as if they’re letters of the alphabet. You score major bonus points with me. The answer to your question is it spells out the phrase, ‘Be You.’ The only way that I was able to be successful in life was to make my own path separate from everyone else, and by coloring way outside the lines.”

  Ivy sighs longingly. “I wish I had the guts to do that more often.”

  “Something tells me if you hang around Marcus much you’l
l quickly become an expert. He considers coloring outside the lines to be his own personal mission in life. He likes to recruit followers to the cause. Be careful that he doesn’t push you clear over the edge. He’s convinced me to do some pretty zany stuff over the years.”

  “What’s the craziest thing he’s ever conned you into doing?”

  “You mean besides keeping the BrainsRSexy.com account?” I ask, my tongue firmly in cheek. “Honestly, it would have to be what I’m doing right now. This is kind of like me pulling up a ladder and a can of spray paint from Home Depot and painting over the Sistine Chapel.”

  Ivy walks over to get a closer look at what I’m doing. I move the piece of gauze that’s covering the work I’ve already done so that she can see it. When she does, she jumps back and gasps. It’s a good thing that I didn’t have the needle on Marcus’s skin at the moment because I could have done some serious damage. I’m not sure what I expected her reaction to be, but that was not it.

  “Is it really that terrible?” I ask feeling completely desolate. When I saw the tattoo in my mind, I thought that it looked pretty spectacular. I didn’t think my execution was that bad, in fact before I saw Ivy’s reaction, I thought that I was doing some of the best work I’ve ever done. However, now I’m beginning to second-guess myself. I start to draw some calming breaths so that I don’t cry.

  Ivy looks at me and notices my reaction. “What’s wrong Rogue?” she asks, panic making her voice sharp.

  “I honestly didn’t think you’d hate it. What if Marcus hates it too?”

  “Oh my gosh! I can’t believe you think I hate it. I just reacted that way because we had another twin moment, you just don’t know it yet. Let me show you.”

  “What are you two talking about?” Marcus asks sleepily as he wakes from his impromptu nap.

  “Nothing!” Ivy and I respond in unison. “Go back to sleep.”

  Ivy pulls a tablet from her purse and shows it to me, hiding it from Marcus. On the tablet is an intricate sketch of a dragonfly breaking free from a ledger with numbers flying toward an artist’s palette.

  I take the tablet from her and sink down into the chair next to Marcus. “When did you draw this?” I demand in a stunned whisper.

  “On the way here in the car,” Ivy answers with tears in her eyes. “I tried to think about where I am in my life right now and what I would like to say about myself if I was brave enough to get a tattoo. You don’t have to use my drawing or anything, it’s just an idea.”

  “I think it’s an amazing sketch. I just think it’s interesting that Marcus suddenly wanted to change his tattoo because it didn’t fit where he was currently in his life either, so I designed this tattoo to reflect where he is now. Maybe this is some cosmic sign that you two are headed in the same direction.”

  I clean off the excess ink and blood from Marcus’s tattoo and apply some antibiotic skin conditioning treatment. “Marc, do me a favor and don’t look at this until you get to the mirror. I want you to get the full effect.”

  Tristan’s eyes widen as he sees the tattoo for the first time. Obviously Ivy showed him her sketches because he murmurs under his breath, “Damn, I study this stuff for fun but seeing it play out in front of me is just too weird. Marcus man, I’ve got to tell you my girlfriend is one talented chick!”

  Tristan’s choice of words makes me laugh. “Excuse me Tristan, the 1980s called and they want their jargon back.”

  Tristan looks surprised. “What? You object to being called my girlfriend?”

  “No, that’s not so weird, although it is a little strange since we just met. It was the chick part that seemed a little obscure.”

  “What am I supposed to call you?”

  “I don’t really know. I’m not used to being coupled up with anybody so I don’t know what the current terms are these days, but I can almost guarantee you that chick is not one of them.”

  “Hey, if the grammar lesson is over, can we look at my tattoo now?” pouts Marcus stretching his back out.

  Ivy walks Marcus over to the mirror and whispers in his ear loud enough for the rest of us to hear, “It’s perfect for you. Rogue is amazing. It’s clear she loves you very much.”

  I hold my breath waiting for Marcus’s response. This is worse than waiting for my papers to be graded at school.

  Instinctually, I grab Ivy’s hand. Even though she’s not actually talking to me, a sense of calm overtakes me and I hear her voice in my head telling me that it’s going to be fine. It’s really spooky. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. If I could feel her broken ankle for a whole year, being able to sense her thoughts when she’s just a few feet away shouldn’t be a big deal.

  Marcus turns around to look at me directly after staring at his tattoo for several minutes in the mirror. I guess it’s time for me to face the music. This is like facing a final exam of epic proportion because there are no retakes in tattoos— especially of the design that I just gave Marcus. Because of its intricacy and heavy use of black lines. It would be incredibly difficult, if not impossible to cover, not to mention that I used virtually every color on the spectrum. I chose the design purposefully because Marcus is, if nothing else, multidimensional and colorful in every sense of the word. A nice sedate pastel or muted gray tone tattoo just would not have done him justice.

  I don’t even realize I’m holding my breath until Tristan walks up on the other side of me and puts his arm around my waist. “Rogue, take a deep breath and really look at the expression on his face. That’s one happy man. You could put what I know about tattoos on a computer key from a broken keyboard, but I would say you hit this one out of the ballpark. So, relax and take in the good news.”

  Marcus smirks at the expression on my face as he replies, “I don’t know what you were so worried about, Ro. I’ve been telling you all along that you’re one of the best apprentices I’ve ever had. I meant it then and I mean it now. This piece is flat-out amazing. You took my gibberish of words and turn them into an amazing coherent piece of artwork. The fact that you combined the concepts of yin and yang together with dragonflies is pure brilliance. The symbolism is so deep. I am so totally stoked about this tattoo. Out of all of my tattoos, this one is my absolute favorite.”

  “That’s really nice of you to say, but I’m sure you don’t mean that. You’ve got some really nice, expensive pieces of work by some really famous people.”

  “You’re right, I do.” Marcus answers with a shrug. “But, even though those pieces are really nice, those artists were pretty much just using me as a canvas because I have a nice body, not because they really knew who I was or what made me tick.”

  “Yeah, but—” I start to interrupt.

  Marcus holds up his hand to stop me. “Yeah, but nothing; you designed this piece for me personally, because you know me and you listened to what was important to me about balance and maturity and my inability to stay in one spot and focused on one thing for very long and you incorporated all of those concepts into this completely radical, awesome design. I’ve been doing tattoos for a really long time and designing them on paper for even longer and I would not have been able to pull together this design. I can’t even tell you how artistically perfect it is that you were able to listen to all of my incoherent ramblings and pull all this together in the space of half a day. It’s absolutely mind-boggling.”

  “Breathe,” Tristan commands softly in my ear as he kisses my temple. “You did it. You were phenomenal. You did everything you hoped to do and exceeded everyone’s expectations.”

  “Super-Secret-Spy-Guy is right. You should listen to him. I had high expectations for you, but you blew them out of the water. I only have one small critique of the whole tattoo. The very first line you put down was tentative and a little shaky. But after you got into the groove of things, you completely rocked it and it’s as solid as anybody who’s been doing this for years— or in some cases better because your sense of color is spot on. I hate to cover this up. But, I know the routine. So, bandage m
e up and let’s get this show on the road. We’ve got places to go and people to see.”

  Ridiculously, my hands are shaking just as bad as I’m taping the bandage on to cover his tattoo as they were when I was taping on the stencil. But, this time it’s simply an adrenaline crash. I have a tendency to build things up way too much in my head in advance before they happen and give them far too much importance. But until it was over, I hadn’t really allowed myself to acknowledge the make or break nature of this tattoo. In my heart of hearts, I knew that Marcus would not set me up with an ultimatum like that. Yet, that’s how it really felt to me that everything was riding on this one tattoo. Yet, now that it’s over. I feel much more secure about being able to go to the Los Angeles conference with Marcus. Now, I feel more like a ‘legit’ tattoo artist instead of a glorified file clerk that just happens to work in a tattoo studio.

  When I’m finished, Marcus grabs his shirt, watch and phone, then he disappears into the back room.

  I turn to Ivy and comment, “Are you ready for this? It’s a really strange way to spend Thanksgiving. Is your adoptive mom okay with this or is she going to feel like you deserted your adoptive family for your ‘real mom’?”

  “I don’t really know what they think of it all. I dodged the question completely. I told them I met this girl in the college coffee shop who needs my help straightening out a banking problem. I hope that buys me some time to figure all this out. My dad is so proud of me that I don’t want to hurt his feelings. I’m afraid this might crush him.”

  “I know what you’re saying. But, then again we didn’t ask for any of this to happen to us, it just did. Maybe, we’ll know more after we talk to Mama Rosa”

  Ivy rolls her neck and pinches the bridge of her nose as she muses, “I’m not sure it’s going to resolve anything for me since I don’t even know what to call your mom. She might hate me on the spot for all I know. This visit may generate more questions than it answers.”