“Hold that thought, let me reply to Nora first,” I tell her as I type a short reply to my second youngest sister, with whom I’m the closest, both in age and otherwise.
“Take your time. We have all night.”
Once I have reassured my sister that I’m okay, I open my photos and look for a group picture. I find one from my cousin’s wedding last winter. “Okay, so here’s us.”
Tanya looks at the screen, and a broad smile forms on her lips. “Oh my, y’all have red hair!”
“Our parents do, too,” I tell her and swipe a few photos back to show her one of my parents, Frank and Maureen Spade.
“You definitely look like your dad. I can see clearly what you’ll look like in thirty years,” Tanya comments.
“Thanks. He looks hella good after raising five kids and having a long career with the NYPD, so that’s a compliment.”
“It surely was one. Tell me more about your sisters.”
I return to the group photo and point at one of my sisters. “Elvina is the oldest. She goes by Ina and works as an English professor at the local college. She made me read many American classics with her college class a few years back. It was a different experience for me because I never enjoyed compulsory reading when I was younger and didn’t go to college after high school.”
“Did you readIn Cold Bloodby Truman Capote? I still get shivers thinking about reading that story for AP English.”
“No, it wasn’t a part of the course she taught, but I have read it before. It wasn’t my favorite, either.”
Seemingly happy with my answer, Tanya scoots closer and points at the next smiling face. “Let me guess; she’s an artistic type.”
I’m about to ask what gave it away when I realize that not everyone wears such bright colors. “You got it. Eileen is a museum curator for one of the art museums in the City. We call her Lee or Lee-Lee. If you couldn’t tell, she loves everything colorful and artsy. You should see the art collection that she has at her house. There’s barely any room left on her walls.”
“Truthfully, I know almost nothing about art, so I would probably only admire the colors.”
“And that’s totally fine. The main thing to remember is that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, so nobody can judge you for how you see the world around you…unless you’re an asshole, but I have got a feeling you aren’t one.”
Tanya smiles again, relief washing over her face. “Thanks, I guess?”
“All I meant was that the way you see art will differ from how I and others see it. And it’s normal. Expected even.”
“I got your meaning the first time. No need to worry about it.”
“Good, I didn’t want to sound like a jackass.”
“You surely didn’t. But before we continue, I have one burning question; do y’all have nicknames?”
I nod before answering with my words. “We do. I guess because our parents gave us names starting with the lettere, we wanted to mix it up a bit growing up. My family calls me Eddie, but they’re the only ones allowed.”
“But I really want to call you that,” she playfully whines.
“Not happening.”
She pouts. “Okay, let’s recap; Ina’s a college English professor, Lee is an art museum curator, and then there’s you, Spade, aka Edmund, aka Eddie, the only boy of the brood. What is it that you do for a living?”
I let out a surprised laugh. “Right, I forgot that we basically know nothing about each other—I’ve been a tattoo artist at King Tattoo for nearly fifteen years. First in Chicago, and then Brooklyn.”
“That explains all the tattoos! I was wondering about them earlier. Do you have more than your arms tattooed?”
“More than half of my skin is inked. It’s an occupational hazard. But I once promised my grandma Spade, bless her soul, that I could always cover them with a long-sleeved shirt and jeans, so my tattoos end at my wrists and ankles.”
“I like that and your tattoos in general. Like this right here,” she says, touching my left forearm, where I have a tattoo of the Staten Island Ferry in front of the Manhattan skyline. The goosebumps rise under her caress.
“That’s one of my favorites, too. I’m proud of where I’m from, and I wanted to get a reminder of New York when I lived in another city for so long.”
“Do you regret any of them? I’ve wanted to get a tattoo for years, but I’m afraid I’ll wake up one morning and think what the heck did I do.”
