Push(76)

As Jake is working, David and I talk. He tells me more of the things that he did after he and Lucia split—and getting the phoenix on his back was the least-crazy of the bunch. Matt was right. David was all kinds of ape shit. Echoing both Matt and Saz, but in his own words, David tells me that he completely lost it when things ended with Lucia. She made such a mess of things. She turned his life into a chaotic mess, and he couldn’t handle it. But he is back on track now. Things are perfect, he says with a smile. I know he is trying to distract me from the pain, which actually isn’t nearly as bad as I thought. It hurts, yes, but no more than a deep brush burn. In a way, it pleases me knowing that David thinks I am strong enough to handle this. He wouldn’t have brought me here if he thought I wasn’t able to deal with the pain. And he sure as shit wouldn’t have chosen a design as extensive as this one for my first time.
As the hours pass, I feel the needle slowly stretching from one side of my upper back to the other and then down my right side, just next to my spine. In the mirror in front of me I can see little tubs of colored ink sitting on a table next to Jake, and every few seconds, he dips the needle into one of them as he uses his other hand to wipe my back off with a paper towel. Other than a few cigarette breaks, Jake works steadily for hours. He is so focused.
When he’s done, he tells me to sit up straight and asks David to come around and let him know what he thinks. I drop the towel that I was using to cover myself and cup my hands over my breasts. I watch David in the mirror as he walks around my side and looks at my skin. His scalp retracts and his mouth unlocks into a big-as-f*ck smile. His eyes move to Jake’s, and then he nods. He and Jake’s palms clasp in a fierce, satisfied handshake.
“Nice f*cking work,” David says to him. “Unbelievable.” And with that one word I feel like the goddamned Mona Lisa. If it makes David this f*cking happy, I don’t even care what’s back there.
“You wanna see it?” David asks me, shining teeth and all. I quietly nod and try to keep from mimicking his smile until I actually see the tattoo. “Go to that set of mirrors over there.” He points to a small platform with three angled mirrors around it, just like you would see in a dressing room. I walk over and step up onto the platform. David and Jake are standing behind me, watching my face very carefully. I turn to the side.
Oh. It’s beautiful. Really, really beautiful. Jake has played Mother Nature and graced my back with a tree branch sprinkled with a dozen or so soft pink flowers. The base of the branch is just to the right of my tailbone, and a handful of gnarled twigs twist up and out of it, extending across each of my shoulder blades and up on to the top of my left shoulder. The four petals creating each blossom are heart-shaped; like those of a dogwood. On the twig that extends over to my left side, there is a bird. A dark, thick bird. I smile knowingly, staring at the raven under my skin.
“It’s beautiful, David. Just beautiful.” I want to say more, but I can’t find the right words. Instead, I pull him toward me and put my lips on his.
The skin around the tattoo is red and puffy, and when I pull away from David, Jake spreads some kind of gel across my back. Then he covers it with a large bandage and hands me a page of instructions titled “Caring for Your New Tattoo.” He smiles and shrugs at David as he hands the paper to me—he’s fully aware that David already knows everything that’s printed on it. I take it anyway and put it in my purse.
* * *

I had a lot of trouble sleeping last night. I didn’t manage very well on my stomach and lying on my back was too uncomfortable. David took the bandage off first thing this morning and rubbed more lotion into my skin after we showered. He told me it will only be sensitive for another day or two, and then the skin will probably peel. I’m not too worried about it because I have no doubt he’ll see me through it.
We decide not to go anywhere today so that I don’t have to wear a shirt. I’m sure David is enjoying watching me walk around in a loose tank top, and frankly, the thought of any other kind of fabric rubbing against my raw skin sets me on edge.
We are camped out on the sofa watching one of his man-movies when my cell phone rings. He looks at me quizzically. It is the first time I have heard my phone ring since I’ve lived here. No one has my number except for David, Matt and a few of the people at work. I go to my room and grab my phone from the bedside table. I know the number.
“Fuck,” I say, loud and sharp. “It’s my * brother.” Of course. He has my number because I called him on Tuesday night. Fuck me. Without thinking, I press the answer icon and put the phone to my ear. David walks into my bedroom.
“Ricky,” I say into the phone. “What do you want?”
“Hi to you too, Em,” he says. “I’m calling to let you know that Michael is in the ground. And that the police know who put him there.” Oh.
“Really? Who?”
“You aren’t going to believe it, but it was Evan,” he says. I laugh out loud into the phone.
“Seriously?” I say. “Why would they think Evan did it? There is no way.” I look at David as I say it. He must understand what I am talking about because he is shaking his head.
“Actually, they don’t think he did it...they know he did. Because he was spotted on a surveillance camera outside the parking garage, and when they brought him in to headquarters to question him about it, he confessed to it. He said he was angry at Michael for not fixing his financial problems.”
“Jesus,” I say. “That’s f*cking nuts.” Though they’ve never discussed it with me, I know that my brothers have had a grudge against Michael ever since my mom died. In her will, my mother left them her jewelry. She had a lot of it—Michael was always giving her gifts that sparkled—but what they ended up getting was far less than we all knew she had. My brothers suspected that Michael hid some of it from them. It was no surprise to me, but I think that’s when Ricky and Evan finally saw how slimy Michael was. The man they’d idolized for so many years was prepared to stab them in the back when it came to money. As far as I know, my brothers never took legal action, but maybe their anger has been simmering all these years. Maybe Evan’s grudge was bigger than I thought. Maybe, in the end, he hated Michael as much as I did. Maybe they both did.