Feels Like Summertime(73)

Katie stands completely star-struck, unable to utter a word.

“I was just showing my wife the city.” I introduce Katie and she finds her tongue long enough to say hello to them.

“So,” I say. I rub my hands together. “I was thinking about a tattoo.”

Katie smiles and rolls her eyes.

“Can you guys hook me up?” I already know they’re booked up for months in advance.

Logan Reed, the middle brother, the one who got the cochlear implant a few years ago, says, “I can do it.”

“Really?”

“My last appointment just cancelled.”

Katie grabs my arms. “Are you sure you want to do this?” she asks.

I raise my brows at her. “Unless you don’t want me to.”

Paul punches me on the arm. “*-whipped mother—” Friday pinches him. Hard. “Sorry,” he mutters.

I wrap my arm around Katie. “It’s all right. I don’t mind. I live for her. If that means I’m *-whipped, then I’m damn delighted to be *-whipped.”

“Damn straight,” one of the twins says. I can never tell them apart.

“Come on back, so you can tell me what you want,” Logan says. “I’ll doodle something up.”

Logan is the best artist in the city, and he and Friday listen to what I want. I tell them the story about how Katie and I met when we were sixteen, how we didn’t see one another for a long while, and how we came back together. Then they put their heads together and start to draw.

When they’re done, they show me what they’ve come up with.

I smile and show them where I want it. “Right here.” I point to my shoulder. It will take up the whole area.

Logan nods, and he sets up his machine.

Friday sits and talks with Katie about the kids, and the other Reeds come and go, bullshitting all the while.

Finally, Logan lifts his machine. He points to the mirror on the wall. “Take a look.”





I stare at it, taking in the sweeping lines and meaningful symbols. “It’s perfect.”

Logan applies ointment and wraps it up. Then he looks at his watch. “My wife is coming by with the kids. I know she’d like to say hi.”

I haven’t seen Emily in a long time. I knew her back when everyone called her Kit, and she used to busk for spare change in the subway tunnels and the park. Now she plays guitar with one of the most popular bands in the country, Fallen from Zero, and her songs are played on the radio every day.

When Emily walks in the door, Logan’s face lights up like he’s seeing her for the first time. She’s stunning, with dirty-blond hair and a blue streak right behind her bangs that runs all the way down over her shoulder. She has a little blond-haired, blue-eyed girl with pigtails gripping her hand, and a baby with a blue cap on his head on her hip.

“You have two now?” I ask as I say hi to Emily.

“We’re trying to catch up with you,” Logan says as he gives me a playful slug on the arm.

I look over and find Katie clutching her stomach. “Hey, Jake,” she says.

“Hey, Katie,” I reply. “You okay?”

“I think it’s time,” she says. “And the last one proved they don’t just walk out.”

“You mean now?”

“Now, Jake,” she bites out around a grimace.

I reach for my wallet to pay for my tattoo, but Logan tells me this one’s on the house. “Are you sure?” I ask him.

“Positive.”

“Jake,” Katie warns.

“Oh, shit,” I say. “We need to go.”

“Unless you want to have it right here,” Katie says.

All the Reeds rush to help us out and get us into a cab. “Good luck to you, Jake.”

“Let us know how it goes.” And the door of the cab slams.

“Oh my God,” Katie says. “I just went into labor at Reeds’ Tattoo Parlor. I’ll tell this story forever.”

I call Pop, who brings the kids to meet us at the hospital, and five hours later, we have a seven pound, six ounce baby boy. His name is Erik Jacobson, III and he is perfect. Katie’s tired, but fine, and we spend the night at the hospital while Pop takes the kids back to the hotel. Gabby can help Pop with Hank.

“I think we might miss the wedding,” Katie says. She smiles at me as I sit next to her holding Erik.

“We’ll send them a nice present,” I say.

Katie laughs and opens her arms. But I don’t just give her Erik. I give her me too.

“Did you set up the appointment for your vasectomy?”

“Not yet.” I tuck Erik’s little hand under his blanket. “You sure you don’t want to try for a girl named Summer?”

“No.” She glares at me.

“Sure?” I bat my lashes at her.

“I’m fairly positive.” Then she rolls her eyes. “You know we can play Scrabble as much as we want, even if we don’t have more children, right?”

“I know.” And to tell the truth, I’d be happy forever with the family we have now, but I also wouldn’t be opposed to having a little girl with Katie’s dark hair and my green eyes.

“I’ll think about it,” Katie mutters. She pretends to be annoyed.