Rattled, стр. 9
“How old were you?” Kelsey asks quietly.
“Seven.” I clear my throat. “I didn’t know it was her goodbye. The dick she was with had taken me and Mom to play arcade games, to get ice cream, to the park. It was the best day I could ever remember. Mom was telling me she loved me. This guy seemed to like me. All was good.”
“What happened?” she asks, like she’s almost afraid to.
“We stopped at my favorite burger joint. Mom and I rarely ate out because we couldn’t afford it, but that day, the guy was treating us to everything. After I got done eating I went to the bathroom. When I came out, they were gone.”
Kelsey sucks in a breath. I know it’s from shock and nothing I did with the tattoo.
“The waitress said they got up and drove off as soon as I went into the bathroom.”
“What did you do?”
“I went outside and looked for them. I waited and waited for them to come back, and then I started to walk to where I thought home was, but got lost. Then I saw a fire station. Mom always said that if I was in trouble or lost to talk to a police officer or a fireman and they’d help me.”
“You went there?”
“Yep. Walked in and explained. They called the police, who talked to the waitress at the restaurant, and before I knew it, I was put in a temporary home.”
“How did they know who you were? You were so young!”
I have to laugh. “I always carried around my favorite backpack with my favorite toys. That morning Mom had put my birth certificate and social security card in it, along with a letter that basically said that she couldn’t take care of me anymore.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Well, she did say she wanted a better life. One that she couldn’t have as long as she had a kid.”
Kelsey sucks in a breath. “That’s why you hated me.”
“I never hated you. Just resented you because you gave up your kid.”
“But I explained—”
I cut her off. “I know. I get that now. You have no idea how bad I feel.” I glance up and look into her dark eyes. “I really am sorry, Kelsey. I was just so blinded by what my mom did that I thought all women who gave up their kids were doing it for selfish reasons.”
Her face softens and a sad smile comes to her lips. “I’m really sorry, Alex.”
“Me too.” My eyes get blurry and I have to blink away the moisture. Must be from concentrating on the tat so hard, and the poor lighting. “For what she did to me, and for how I treated you.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not,” I argue. “You didn’t deserve to be treated the way I treated you.” I glance down at the footprint. “And I’m going to do my best to make it up to you. Starting with the best damn tattoo on the planet.”
She says nothing for a long time and I just work, lost in my thoughts, trying to forget about my mom and concentrating on the tattoo. This has to be perfect. Not just so I can land a job, but for Kelsey. She deserves the best.
I get it. His mom dumped him for a better life. I was giving up my kid so I could go to school. At least that’s how he saw it, and I never bothered to explain. Of course, he didn’t ask. Just judged me.
How much pain could have been saved if we’d talked back then? But Alex and I didn’t talk. He glared and I glared back. Instant dislike, both with chips on our shoulders.
Maybe I didn’t really have a chip. I was still struggling with Brandon’s death, the pregnancy, and giving up my daughter. No matter what anyone thinks, it was not an easy decision. I wanted to keep her. I wanted her with me, but at what cost to her? Just because I had a shit life, made better when I got to attend Baxter, didn’t mean my daughter had to have a tough life. There were hundreds of couples out there that would give anything to have a baby. I saw that when I went through file after file after file. To keep Brandy would have been the worst thing I could do for her. Now, she has a chance for stability, safety, and love. The only thing I could have given her was love, and a child needs so much more.
“Did you like college?” It’s too painful to talk about the high school past, but not college.
“Yeah,” he says. “Living like we did in high school prepared me for dorm life.” He laughs. “Though that was the first time I ever had to share a room with someone, luckily he was easy enough to get along with.”
I wish I knew what he is doing, because Alex isn’t under my right boob anymore but at the side of the left, in the center of my chest. Kind of over my heart. That’s an odd place for a foot, especially since that is where I thought he was putting it, on my right side. And he put something on the skin between where I think the foot is and where he’s working now.
How big is he making it? Maybe I should have mentioned I want the footprint to scale, not Big Foot on my chest, but I guess it’s a little late to tell him that now.
I’m trying my best to hold still. I’d heard that sometimes tattoos could be painful, and these are. Not so much that I can’t stand it, but uncomfortable enough. And I’m trying my best not to move, or twitch, but sometimes it’s automatic.
When I’m talking, I’m not so focused on what he’s doing, so I hope he doesn’t mind my