“Why?” I ask, breathlessly.
“I was afraid once you woke up and the weekend was over, you would disappear.” His lips brush against mine, then linger momentarily, as if he needs to touch me in some way to believe I’m really here. I swallow thickly. I need to tell him the truth. He needs to know I’m graduating from high school and leaving to New York in a few days. But today, all I want to do is spend the day with Jase. I want to watch him do what he loves. These few days may be all I get with him before he either hates me for lying or I graduate and move. Both of those possibilities leave me feeling sick to my stomach. I’m falling so fast, too fast, and my only hope is that Jase will be at the bottom, ready to catch me.
“I’m here,” I say softly. “Could I…maybe hangout for a little while? I’ll stay out of the way.”
Jase’s face lights up. “That would be great.” With one last kiss, he backs up and takes the bag off the counter. He dishes out the food and grabs us both a cup of coffee. While we eat, we talk about his upcoming appointments. It’s obvious from how animated he is, he loves his job.
Shortly after we’re done eating, his next appointment comes back. He’s an older gentleman named George, looking to get his late wife’s name inked on his arm. He shares that they were married for forty years and she passed away six months ago from cancer. He explains what he would like, and after Jase draws up the image, and George approves it, Jase gets to work. The tattoo gun buzzes a low humming sound, but it’s drowned out by George’s voice. He shares memories of his life with his wife while she was alive. He talks about how they met and fell in love, and how he knew the moment he saw her that she was the one.
As he reminisces, I can’t help the tears that fall. This is what I want. An entire life full of memories with Jase. A few days…a week…a month isn’t enough. And then it hits me. This is what my mom wanted with my dad but never got. It’s why she’s chosen to live in the same trailer, in the same town, my entire life. She knows what it feels like to fall in love, and refuses to let go of that feeling, in hope that one day the man she loves might come back and love her in return again. And while I never understood it before, I now get it. Because if I can feel this strongly about Jase after only one weekend, I can’t imagine how my mom felt after being with my dad for months.
An hour later, Jase wipes George’s arm down and hands him a small mirror. Tears leak from his eyes as he nods slowly. “Thank you,” he whispers. Jase runs through the same speech he did with his other client about caring for the tattoo. When he’s done, George turns to me with a sad smile and says, “I see the way you two look at each other. It reminds me of the way my Melinda and I used to look at each other.” And with a wink, he stands and walks out of the room.
The rest of the day continues much the same—although, thankfully, not as emotional. All types of people come in and out of the shop to get tattooed. Some have back stories, others just want something fun, or cool, or pretty. I can see why Jase is booked up. He treats each tattoo like it’s going to be a masterpiece. It doesn’t matter if it’s a simple butterfly or a remembrance piece, he gives each person one hundred percent of him. He makes them feel as though what they’re getting tattooed isn’t just ink, but rather a piece of them, and through extension, a piece of him.
Lunchtime arrives, and Jase orders in for us. He breaks for lunch, and we spend the hour kissing, talking, eating, and laughing. I can’t remember a time when I felt this content. When my phone buzzes, I check it and see it’s Nick. It’s already five o’clock, and he’s asking where he should pick me up. I text him back to pick me up near the movie theater. It’s only a couple blocks away, and he won’t piece it together that I was here.
“Everything okay?” Jase asks. I look up and notice his latest client has left.
“Yeah, but I have to get going.” I frown. “I promised Nick I would hang out with him.”
“All right. Will I see you later?”
My heart skips a beat at his question. He wants to see me later. “Yeah.” I nod. “I’m not sure how late I’ll be, but you will definitely see me later.”