both your brothers have tattoos symbolizing your dad’s band. What about you? Any tattoos?”
“I have a small pair of black angel wings on my butt cheek.” She pulled in a long breath and took a step as if she were stepping off the edge of a cliff. Her foot landed on the grass and she stared down at it. “Shit, shit, shit, I did it.”
“You did.” I took one more step back and sat down on the grass. “I can’t believe how lush your lawn is. You should have some horses grazing out here.”
“I keep telling my dad that, but he got kicked by a horse once so he thinks they’re dangerous.” She stood in the same place, but I noticed that her hands started unfurling from the tight fists she’d had just seconds before. “Jude races around town on a motorcycle and Dad thinks it’s cool. I, of course, pointed out the irony in it all. I mean, he thinks a horse is dangerous but speeding through Los Angeles on a bike is fine.”
“I thought Jude seemed like the motorcycle type.”
“I guess.” She took another step and looked around as if the landscape had changed with the second step. She took a furtive peek over her shoulder at the hedge, the end of her safety zone, and for a second, I was sure she’d flee back to it. But she stayed.
“I’ve always wanted a tattoo,” I said, deciding to keep the conversation moving. I was certain if she thought about anything too hard she’d jump back to the hedge.
“You should get one.”
“Some day, when I can afford it. Nothing fancy. I just want a spray of stars along one shoulder blade.”
“That would be really cute. And it would look great with your new suit.” That insatiable enthusiasm that snuck into her demeanor several times a day had returned. “I’ll call my tattoo artist. She makes house calls— for me, at least. I’ve been meaning to have a picture of Some Pig tattooed onto my shoulder. I’m sure she can put a few stars on you too.” She took a step and sat down next to me. Her hands smoothed over the tips of the green grass. “It’s been awhile since I’ve been on this grass. I used to play soccer out here with Jude.”
“You should have a web with a spider added above the picture of your pig with the words Some Pig written across it.”
“Oh my gosh, I love that idea! Why didn’t I think of that? Your mom won’t be mad if you get a tattoo, will she? My dad was pissed after I got mine. The man has tattoos all over, and rumor has it, even some raunchy ones in places I don’t even want to know exist on my dad. But one little tattoo on my ass and he went ballistic.”
I laughed. “My mom? She’ll be totally jealous. She’s always wanted one.”
“Your mom sounds cool,” Finley said.
“Yeah, I guess. But I confess, sometimes I dream about what it would be like to have one of those nerdy moms who wears polyester and bakes oatmeal cookies and always does the right thing. My mom was really young when she had me, so I could kind of understand why she didn’t always make great decisions. I really thought she’d change once my sisters were born. But she’s still pretty immature and selfish. I get suspended from school because of her joint and I had to spend the day consoling her out of her guilt trip.”
“That is pretty tweaked. But she loves you.”
“No doubt about that. Both of my parents would be devastated if something happened to one of us.”
Finley slipped off her sandals and dug her toes into the grass. “My mom never put up much of a battle for me. She despised my dad by that point and just wanted to get away. Not that she wasn’t devastated by Chloe’s death. She was. But then she left me without ever really looking back.”
“That’s brutal. As funky as my mom is, she’d never leave us.”
“Cole’s mom put up a good fight, but in the end, my dad won custody. Cole still sees her on birthdays and holidays. Jude’s mom was always wild. She left my dad and then died before any custody battle took place. Jude hardly knew her. My dad truly loved her, or at least that’s what he claims.” Finley looked around. “This is nuts. I’m just sitting out here and chatting.”
“Yep.” I looked back