“You motherfucker,” I growled, throwing the book. I picked up another. “You son of a bitch. What the fuck did I ever do? What the fuck did he do?”
I didn’t have time to feel silly or stupid as I tipped my head back and looked to the ceiling. “Well, asshole?! Where are your fucking signs now, huh?”
And as I had suspected, I was met with nothing but silence in the vacant house.
“Yeah,” I muttered, swiping the back of my hand under my nose. “That’s what I fucking thought.”
I grabbed the duffel bag from off my bed and rushed down the hall to the living room, when I was stopped in my tracks by the vibrating of my phone. It was ridiculous to think the Almighty could’ve been giving me a call, absolutely absurd, but my hand shook anyway as I took it out.
Surprise, surprise—it wasn’t God.
I took a deep breath, allowed myself a second to feel like a jackass, then answered, “Hey, Gus.”
“Hey, Blake, is it a bad time?”
“Not really,” I lied, wiping a hand over my brow.
“How’s your brother?”
“Still in the coma.” I hadn’t meant to sound so sardonic, but what the hell? He’d know if there were updates. This was small talk, and not the kind I wanted to have. So, I repeated once again, “What’s up, man?”
Gus took a deep breath and began, “Well, I know you’ve got a lot going on right now, Blake. I get what you’re going through, but you’ve been getting tons of calls lately and I got to thinking—”
“Are you firing me?” I cut in, panicked and strained. “‘Cause, dude, if you’re firing me, I’ll—”
“Fire you? Jesus Christ, Blake, calm the hell down. You’re too quick to fly off the handle, you know that?”
I groaned and shook my head, remembering the many times Dr. Travetti had pointed that out. “Yeah, sorry. Working on it.”
“Anyway, I got to thinking about how things have been lately. You know, how your career has been really taking off—about damn time, too, by the way—and how I’m not getting any younger …” He trailed off and cleared his throat. “Kara’s pregnant, did I tell you that?”
“No, you didn’t mention that.” My voice was hoarse, as if it’d been unused for a while. I dropped the duffel by the door and headed toward the kitchen for some water.
“Yep,” he answered, unable to contain his pride. “She and Matt came over last weekend and gave us the big news. I’m gonna be a grandpa.”
“Congratulations, Gus. That’s awesome,” I told him as I went to the fridge and took out a bottle.
“Thank you,” he replied with an abundance of gratitude. “The thing is, Blake, I really want to be there for my grandkid, you know? I want to be that kickass grandpa who babysits their grandkids while their parents are working. I wanna be able to take him or her to Disney World, the aquarium, and all that cool shit.”
Uncapping the bottle, I nodded thoughtfully. “I feel you, man.”
“Now, I know that’s sort of why you’ve been reluctant to take on more of a workload, but you’ve been managing, right? You got that pretty girlfriend of yours and her little boy now, and of course your brother, and you’ve been good. Right?”
While I took a swig of water, it slowly began to settle in why exactly he was calling, and after lowering the bottle, I answered, “Well, I mean, this past week—”
“Well, obviously, we’re not talking about that,” he assured me. “That’s a whole other situation, but I just mean, in general. Things have been going well.”
“Yeah, I guess so. Sure.”
“Right. So, how would you like to take over?”
“Take … over,” I drawled, pursing my lips and considering what that meant. “Would the, uh … would the place be mine? Or …”
“Well, I thought we could be co-owners,” he suggested. “But you’d manage the place. You know, handle business your way.”
I considered rejecting the offer right away. The dream of having my own tattoo shop never involved taking over Salem Skin. I’d always wanted to own a place in Derby Square, in the heart of the town and in the middle of the crowds. But Salem Skin was my home away from home. Gus had taken me under his wing and changed my life. The guy was more of a father to me than my own dad, and suddenly, I couldn’t imagine ever wanting to be somewhere else.
“You wouldn’t wanna ask Kara or Matt?”
Gus pulled in a breath, hesitating in his reply, before saying, “I love those kids, you know that, and they like what they do. But you have a gift, Blake.”
I snorted at that word. “A gift,” I scoffed, shaking my head.
“Yeah! A gift!” he shouted impatiently. “God, kid, I shouldn’t have to tell you this, but there’s a lot of people tattooing out there right now, and a good chunk of them are decent at what they do. But it’s a lot less common to come across the ones that are artists, honest to God artists, and you’re one of them. So, take credit, for fuck’s sake, and take over the shop.”
I cast my gaze over the kitchen floor and spotted Mickey’s water bowl in the corner, still full and never to be used again. Seeing Jake’s stuff scattered all throughout the house hadn’t tempted my emotions as much as I thought they would, but that damn bowl forced a lump to rise in my throat and I struggled to maintain my composure.
“Okay, Gus,” I croaked, then clamped my lower lip between my teeth as my eyes pinched shut.
“Okay? To which?”
I laid a hand over my eyes. “Both.”
“Well, that was easy,” he commented, chuckling lightly.
I wished him a good day and promised I’d call if there were any updates on Jake’s condition. Then, I stared at that dish and fought the bout of tears that begged to leak from my eyes and drip into my beard as I muttered, “You giveth, and you taketh away.”
***
“When’s Jake gonna wake up?” Freddy asked Audrey that night while she put him to bed.
“I don’t know, honey,” she replied solemnly. “Hopefully soon, but it could take a while.”
“Mama said she misses him at school,” he told her.
Audrey glanced over her shoulder at me and offered a weak smile. Hang in there, it said, and I tried. “I bet she does. I know he’s very special to her,” Audrey replied, and I knew that was true. When I had called Jake’s daycare after the accident, Amy hadn’t even tried to stop her tears as she cried into the phone with promises to pray, hope, and whatever else she could do to help him wake up and to make him better.
“Get some sleep, okay?” she said to her son and kissed his forehead. She stood up and headed to the door, meeting my eye with a sympathetic glance.
“Night, Freddy,” I said, waving into the room, before he stopped me.
“Blake?”
“Yeah?”
“What are you getting me for Christmas?”
The question brought me to laugh and I shook my head, stepping into the room. “Well, if I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?” I asked, crouching at his bedside. “Why? Got any requests?”