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The girls walk up to us; Tessa takes an open seat next to Lake, and Autumn takes an open spot next to Briggs. Isla walks behind Kaenan and gives him a kiss while Penelope stops just shy of me.
“I didn’t know you were coming to Oakley’s. I would have brought you something for your birthday,” I tell her.
“You don’t need to get me anything. I think you’ve done more than enough for one lifetime,” she says, looking away to find anyone else to talk to.
She shifts to the right to gain distance from me, but at least she didn’t turn back out of the bar the moment she saw me this time. That’s an improvement over the last few days.
She didn’t get my flowers or chai today and she won’t end up getting them until tomorrow, but that’s not good enough. I need to be able to offer her something right now.
I can buy her a drink… but anyone can do that.
I already bought her flowers, and there are no florists nearby open this late.
There’s one option I have but I don’t know if she’s going to like it, or hate me more for it.
“Here, Penelope, sit by Autumn. I’ll find another chair,” Briggs says, sliding off his barstool next to his finance. “Want a drink, birthday girl?” he asks.
“Yes… please. A blueberry lemon drop, thanks. I couldn’t get one at the club. The bar was impenetrable by the amount of people there,” she huffs, walking over and hoisting herself up into his spot.
Her birthday is only for a few more hours. If I want something to offer her, it has to be now.
“Isla, sit here,” I tell her, sliding off the barstool.
“Oh, I don’t want to take your spot,” she says.
“It’s not a problem. I’m going to step out for a second. I’ll be back,” I assure her.
She seems to feel better now that I won’t need the chair and hops up into the empty spot where I used to sit.
“Where are you going?” Kaenan asks.
“I’ll be right back. It shouldn’t take long,” I say.
I turn and head for the exit.
Pushing through the door of the bar, I hold it open as another couple enters and then I hang a right. The neon sign of the tattoo parlor is still lit up and beckoning me in.
I open the door, and a small bell rings as I walk into the small shop. A loveseat couch sits at the left of the entrance. In front of it sits a coffee table with multiple three-ring binders full of tattoo art that a customer can pick from. But I don’t need inspiration… I already know what I want, and it should take any tattoo artist about five minutes to do.
Seven simple letters and two numbers in decent calligraphy.
April 16th.
Today’s date.
Penelope’s birthday.
“Hey man, can I help you?” a guy in his older years with peppering hair and a greying beard says.
He walks out from behind what I assume to be his office in the back.
“Yeah, I need a tattoo,“ I roll up the sleeve to my Henley and show him the ice skates. “I need April 16th written on the blank banner.”
“That’s easy. Take a seat,” he says.
He walks up to the chair at his station and spins it around for me to take a seat.
I do as he instructs while he pulls on black latex gloves and gets the ink and his equipment ready to go.
