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She instructs me to lay on my stomach with my legs bent and feet crossed in the air. “Oh, I love your tattoo.” She stops and leans close to get a good look. “You mentioned them in your emails, so I’ll make sure to work them in. I’ll make them pop. Oh–” She draws in a startled breath, which is the exact moment I know she noticed the scarring on my shoulder. My dad’s tattoo isn’t actuallyonthe scars, more so around and camouflaging them in the design. “What happened?” Very softly, she runs the tip of her finger along one. “Does it hurt?”
“Nah, not so much anymore. Sometimes, like inside, deepinthe muscle hurts when I’m not careful.”
“What happened?”
“I was kidnapped, beaten, stabbed, and hit by a car.” I turn and watch her face pale. It’s not that I think what happened was funny, but it’s fun to shock the hot chick who’s so cool, I kind of want to invite her to our next girl’s night.
Not in a million years would I joke about this in front of Bobby.
“Ha, funny.” She tries to brush my words off. “Did you hurt it in sport or something? Are you a fighter, too? Like your man.”
“Yes, I train. But no, I’m not being funny. That’s what happened. You could even Google me.”
Her icy blue eyes flick between mine, and her embarrassed blush turns deathly pale. “No way.” She looks up to the girls in question. “No.”
Iz nods solemnly. “True story. They even bonked me on the head because she’s a pain in the ass and wouldn’t go quietly.”
I snort.Way to blame to victim.
“No.” She shakes her head and stands tall. “I don’t believe you. You’re bullshitting.”
Tink laughs and wipes her eyes with her arm – because her hands are full of shoes that donotbelong to her. “No, she’s not bull…poopingyou.” She throws a sassy smile at an eagerly listening Evie. “It truly happened.”
“When?”
In harmony, all three of us answer as one. “December.”
“Jesus, Kit. Are you okay?”
“I am now. Honestly. I had the best medical care available, the best friends singing to me while I slept, the best boyfriend who begged me to get better.” I laugh at her stricken face. At least she’s not sad anymore. “Seriously, I’m fine. And I’m getting married in just a few days. Life’s good now.”
“Oh my God. I don’t know what to say…”
“I’m sorry. Bad joke. Bad timing. Let’s take some slutty pictures for Bobby.”
Snapping her back to the present, her eyes clear and her spine straightens. “Right. That’s why we’re here. Sorry.”
“No big deal.”
“So these are like a wedding gift, then?” She picks up the camera from around her neck and walks around me.
“Exactly.”Don’t be awkward in your photos. Smile, but no double chin. Pose, but no dancing whales.“Hopefully they turn out nice.”
“They will. Trust me.” She steps back with the camera in front of her face and starts clicking before I’m ready. “I’ll make them perfect. Watch me make magic.”
* * *
We spend the next two hours parading me around in underwear and shoes and sparkly jewelry, and after the first dozen clicks of the camera, my awkwardness slides away and leaves us with just fun.
Tink has taken on the role of photographer’s assistant by moving things when asked, redirecting lights, arranging my hair just so, and making me laugh when I’m getting too nervous. As eight p.m. rolls around and Evie’s giggles turn to light snores, I look up to find her curled into Izzy’s lap with her puppy pulled over her face and her arms clutching to Iz’s. She didn’t make a peep all night except to giggle at Tink’s antics, or to show us her drawings. She didn’t complain of being tired, she didn’t complain of hunger or boredom or anything else most two-year-olds complain about. She just wanted to stay downstairs with us, so she was on her best behavior.
I heard something somewhere that children and animals have this extra sense – like a good versus evil thing – and as the evening progressed, I found myself wondering if she could sense Iz’s baby and swirling emotions.
She clung to Iz in a way that even Tina was shooting curious glares at her daughter. I get the feeling Evie doesn’t normally sleep on anyone’s lap but Tina’s. I don’t think Iz minded the hugs – despite Tina asking a hundred times if Evie was bothering her. I think it was a mutual hug that Izzy secretly wanted so bad, she was willing to not pee for four hours even while pregnant, just so she didn’t have to give it up.
Now, at eight, in my underwear, with my dark makeup still flawless and my belly roll proudly out for anyone to see, I sit on the bed cross legged with the other ladies, and I lick oil that dribbles down my wrist from the burrito Tink ran out and brought back for us all.
I haven’t eaten since lunch – nine hours ago. This is the best burrito I’ve tasted in my life.
