Lexus.
"New Orleans. Bourbon Street."
"Why? You hate the big city."
"I do, but we're going to get tattoos."
Ray laughed so hard he coughed. "You have never had a
"Funny, Ray. No, I know exactly what we're getting. These
are special that only we as brothers can get to mark us for life."
"We don't need tattoos to be joined for life."
"No, we don't. They're just symbolic. We'll create a new
memory, a good memory, to help ease the pain of old
memories. This brother will never betray you."
"Thanks, Raif, but you don't have to get a tattoo for me to
know that."
"Then humor me." He glanced right. "Maybe I need this."
"All right. It's a long drive for a tattoo."
"So, we'll have a couple of hurricanes and some dinner at
The Top of the World and crash at a hotel because we'll be too
drunk to drive home."
"Oh, this I have to see." Ray chortled. "Have you ever been
drunk?"
Raif laughed. "Not since before my last Mardi Gras."
"Then, it's time. Let's go have some fun.
Bewildered, Ray asked, "Did you plan this from the getgo?"
"Yep. I have a pair of jeans, a shirt, and underthings for
you, too. Let's check in."
"Check in? Did you already make a reservation?"
"Yep."
The brothers checked into a ritzy room. Rich mahogany
furnishings rested on plush ivory carpet. Lithographs to do with
some form of gambling hung on the walls. The sliding glass
door opened to a balcony overlooking the Mississippi River,
where tugs and barges moved steadily on the velvety black
water. The ta-tump-ta-tump of a paddle boat heralded a nightly
cruise to begin soon.
They changed into more casual clothes and headed to the
French Quarter.
"Where to, Raif?" asked Ray.
"The tattoo parlor where you and Robert got your tattoos."
"What if it's not around?"
"Then, I'll think of something else."
Ray said, "You know Larkin told me that's where she got
hers during Mardi Gras, too. Can you believe that?"
"Absolutely. You two have been joined since before you
knew each other."
Ray led the way down a side street. The same parlor,
Timeless Tattoos, waited, open for business. It did appear to be
cleaner and more organized. An eye-catching young blonde
woman in a pink tank top and a full crimson long-stemmed
rose tattoo all the way down her left arm looked up from
behind the service counter as the door tinkled. She eyed the
two identical older men with raven black hair, with a touch of
gray at the temples and few flecks of gray here and there,
strangely. Their brilliant blue eyes drew her attention like a
magnet draws steel. They did not look like her regular patrons.
"May I help you?" she asked in a deep sultry voice.
"Yes. May I use your catalog? My brother and I are getting
tattoos," Raif replied.
"Of course. Did you have anything in mind?" The young
woman escorted Raif to a table of books.
"Yes. We want the Chinese symbols of older brother
Raif tapped his chest over his heart. "I'm the older brother." He
smiled and winked at the young woman.
"By thirteen minutes," Ray said.
The woman smiled back pleasantly. She found her two
customers to be amiable.
"Do you want the simple symbol or something with more
flare?" she asked as she turned to a page of Chinese symbols.
"Now, that I'm not sure of," Raif answered. "My brother
got a tattoo here some years ago."
"Twenty-two," Ray admitted.
"Really?" asked the woman. "What did you get? It was
probably my dad's work. May I see it?"
"Sure." Ray shrugged. He pulled off his sport shirt and
turned around.
"Oh, yes," the woman commented. "The Celtic guardian."
She put silky soft hands on Ray's shoulder. "Yes, this is his
work." Reverently touching each scale on the burnt orange and
golden dragon set against a Celtic cross, it seemed the tattoo
artist was transported to another world. As she traced the
wingspan and finally the broadsword in the creature’s talons,
she sighed, "It's beautiful." She dropped her hands to her sides,
back in the here-and-now. "Did you get this during Mardi
Gras?"
"Yes. Why?"
"Dad told me a story about a couple of guys, fraternity
brothers, who came in here to get tattoos. Something about the
incident made him tell it over and over while he trained me.
One guy got the Celtic guardian. He said that as he was doing
the work he felt as if he was painting a masterpiece. Dad said it
was as if he was giving the man a gift. He thought maybe it
really would protect the man because he felt the guy would be
in harm's way his whole life. What's your name? What do you
do for a living?"
"Raiford, Ray, Reynolds. I'm a cop."
"Oh!" She put her fingers to her mouth. "Has it protected
you?"
Amazing that the man remembered.
Ray nodded a little
bewildered. "I'm still alive after all this." Ray pointed to several
scars in his side, back and abdomen.
"Are those a result of on-the-job injury?"
"Yes."
Do I want to ask my next question?
"What did he
say about the other guy's tattoo?"
"The double-headed serpent?" the girl responded.
Ray had no doubt she was talking about Robert and him.
His heart thudded as the same weird feeling he got when
Robert got his tattoo came over him again just talking about it.
In a moment of utter quiet, Ray heard the pages of the
catalogue Raif was looking in turn. Hardly above a whisper he
said, "Yes, my friend got a red-and-black double-headed
serpent. I thought it was atrocious."
"So did my dad. He never liked doing that one." She
shivered. "He said that he felt as if he was pouring evil into the
man's soul. Dad took it out of his repertoire. He told me he
never did it again. What happened to that guy?"
"He's dead, murdered."
"I'm sorry." The woman gently rubbed his shoulder in
sympathy.
Ray tensed and stepped back a few inches. "Me too."
She changed the subject to something lighter. "Would you
like to know something else?"
"Sure."
"Dad told me lots of stories. He said that was the only day
he ever did two Celtic guardians in one day. They do take a
longer time because of the color and intricacy. He said not five
minutes after the guy left a cute little redhead and her friend
came in. The friend got a pretty little fairy, and the redhead got
the Celtic guardian." She laughed with the sound of a carefree
spirit. "Now, wouldn't it have been ironic if you two had met."
"We did. I married her."
"Are you serious, Ray?" Her dove-gray eyes stretched in
doubt.
"Yes."
"That's wild. You sure you want to get these brother
tattoos?"
"Is your father here?"
"No, sorry. He died a few months ago." Her voice hitched,
but she put a smile on her face. "The business is mine, but I'm
really good. He taught me everything he knew."
"I'm sure you're good. Do you have a name?"
The woman chuckled. "Of course I have a name. Neely.
Neely Rivers."
"Nice to meet you, Neely. My brother's name is Raif."
"Ray and Raif Reynolds."
"No," said Raif, "that's a strange story, too. We were
adopted by two different sets of parents. Raiford is both our
names. My last name is Gautier."
"You two are probably the most interesting customers I've
ever had."
"Well, Neely, what would you suggest?" Raif asked.
"Do you have any tattoos, Raif?"
"No." Raif shook his head.
Neely pointed to Ray's Celtic guardian again. "Dad always
said a tattoo should reflect something about the person. Like,
my rose symbolizes life and beauty. The simple Chinese
symbol over your hearts will speak volumes about your love
for each other. Go simple. Who goes first?"
Ray pointed at Raif. "My big brother."
"Fine," Raif said as he took off his shirt with shaking
hands.
"Okay," said Neely. "I can understand why the cop looks
good at forty-something if he tries to stay in shape and lays off
the doughnuts, but what's your secret? What do you do for a
living?"
Raif smiled. "Thank you for the compliment. I'm an
architect. I run five miles a day and weight train three times a
week."
Neely flirted, "This is gonna be a pleasure even though
you're both married." She had noticed the wedding rings.
While Neely artistically inked Raif's symbol, Ray thumbed
through tattoo books, stopping on a delicate angel. He traced it
with his finger. Unlike most angel pictures he had seen of
blonde hair this one had copper tresses. It’s lean, lithe body
delicately draped in baby-blue ribbons to hide obvious female
anatomy, she looked to be taking flight, one hand stretched
toward the heavens, the other to her back and legs bent as a
ballerina leaping. Her face glowed in the reflection of gold
from her halo and her wings were touched with soft lavender.
"Yeah, you could be my angel," he murmured.
Ray turned to Neely and watched her work for a minute.
"Neely, do you think you could do another one for me today?"
"If you want. Whatcha got in mind?"
"This angel with 'Larkin' underneath in a delicate script."
"Your wife?"
"Uh-hum. My guardian angel."
"Sure, Ray. Not a problem. Raif, you want one for your
wife?"
Raif looked a little perturbed at the thought of more
needles.
Ray laughed. "He doesn't like needles."
"No, but I love Chris," defended Raif.
Neely giggled. "I didn't hurt you."
"No, you did a good job," Raif confessed.
Neely put a bandage over the tattoo and gave Raif a bottle
of solution to use and written instructions for initial care. "It'll
be tender, but you can handle it. If you want one for Chris, look
through the books while I work on Ray. I'm good at what I do."
It took Neely a bit longer to etch both Ray's tattoos. She
kept up a light banter as she worked, learning a great deal
about her patrons. When she was done, Raif was still looking
through the books.
"No luck?" asked Neely.
"You don't understand. Chris is incomparable. She's one of
a kind."
Neely held up a finger. "Let me show you this one. It costs
a bit more." She pulled a book from behind the counter and
flipped to a whimsical unicorn whose mane in the picture
spelled "Neely."
As if painting again, Neely whisked her fingers across the
artistic rendering. "I designed this one myself," she explained.
"Is Chris's name actually Christine?"
"Yes."
"I can make the mane read Christine. I can put it on your
arm just like I did Ray's. Notice that the color is subtle. The
pastels of pink and lilac to offer shadowing and the golden
lettering are easier to ink than the vibrant colors in Ray’s angel.
It won’t take nearly as long as the angel did."
"It looks airbrushed." Raif nodded. "I like it—strong and
beautiful at the same time. Let's do it."
As she worked, Neely talked some more. "I have loved
every minute of this day. I hope one day I'll meet someone who
will love me as much as the two of you love your wives."
Raif assured her, "You will. You're as beautiful and full of
life as your rose."
The brothers left the parlor fairly late. Raif commented,
"Won't the girls be surprised?"
"Oh, yeah," agreed Ray. "Yours more than mine. I'm
starving. Let's find some food. You said The Top of the
World."
During dinner, Ray was quiet. "Want to talk about it?" Raif
asked.
"I was just thinking about what Neely said about her
father's intuition about Robert's and my tattoos. I can't help but
wonder if there was some sort of spiritual connection. Look at
what I've survived. Look how Robert turned out."
"No, Ray, the tattoo didn't release anything. However, the
choice of tattoos revealed the real person."
"I hope you're right. But I have double, no triple, protection
now. I have my Celtic guardian, my guardian angel, and my
brother."
"Always! Hey, we're marked for life!"
"Let's go have some drinks at Pat O's to celebrate."
"You're on!"
Ray and Raif consumed several hurricanes from Pat O'Brien's
as they kicked back and listened to the jazz band that played.
They finally staggered into the room well after midnight. Raif
fell onto the nearest bed and moaned, "Oh, God, make the
room stop spinning."
Laughing, Ray said, "You are so drunk. How many did you
have—three?"
"So? I don't drink much. You
know
that."
"I didn't force them down your throat. You brought this on
yourself." Ray pulled Raif up. "Go take a leak and come sleep
it off. You'll feel like hell in the morning, but you'll live. I'll
drive home."
The next morning, Raif forced himself to eat one biscuit
and a couple of slices of bacon at the hot breakfast bar offered
by the hotel. "My head hurts," he groaned.
Ray smirked at his brother. "Finish you meager breakfast
and take a couple Advil. It'll help." After filling his plate with a
little of every item offered, Ray brought Raif a large glass of
water. "Oh, and drink this. OJ and coffee are fine, but the water
will help clean your system." Ray ate heartily and held out his
hand when they checked out. "Keys."
Raif handed over his car keys. On the way home, he leaned
back on the seat quietly for a while as Ray drove. After a time
he said, "Tell me about Mia. What was she like?"
"Beautiful, but weak. She was five-ten, a hundred twenty
pounds, long straight brown hair, hazel eyes, full, sensuous
lips, big boobs. I really loved her, Raif."
Ray furrowed his brow. After a long sigh, he said, "I met
her late one night when Baker, who was my partner at the time,
got a beer bottle broken over his head when we tried to break
up a bar brawl. Mia was one of the nurses in the emergency
room. She was a surgical nurse, but she picked up extra shifts
in the ER. She said she needed the money. While Baker got
stitches, we talked."
She had the sexiest voice, husky, but sexy.
"It wasn't very busy that night. I got her number. We went to a
movie and had dinner the next Friday and started dating for
two years."
Ray changed lanes and took the exit that led to the parish
road toward Eau Boueuse.
"Mia was a good nurse, but in her personal life she always
needed somebody to take care of her. Maybe I wasn't very
good at taking care of people then." He glanced at his brother
who had his eyes closed. "Are you asleep?"
"No, I'm listening."
A car passed them. The cop glanced at his speedometer.
Seventy. That jerk has to be doing at least eighty on a two-lane
highway.
Ray grumbled, "If I was in my car, I'd give them a
ticket."
"Chill. Tell me more about Mia."
"Mia just did
not
handle stress well, especially in our home
life. We argued a lot. I often felt as if I had to walk on
eggshells with her. I'm pretty sure she might've abused the pain
killers she took for a back injury she received in a car accident.
I couldn't prove it, but sometimes she seemed a little strung
out. I guess I didn't really want to know. I was in denial."
I
should have made sure. Damn! I didn't do my job.
"You've gotten better about that. I remember how you used
to walk out of the room when you didn't want to deal with
things."
"You've helped me learn how to deal with difficult
situations."
Another car passed them. "Damn it!" Ray muttered.
Raif opened his eyes. "Want me to drive?"
"No. I'm going over the speed limit myself. They're being
reckless."
"Ignore it. Stop changing the subject. Tell me more."
Ray sighed. "She was so moody. She could go from being
sweet and loving to throwing a tantrum in a matter of minutes.
Mia was a smoker. I lost count of how many times she threw
the ashtray at me. I thought maybe if she felt assured of my
love, she would be stronger. So, I proposed, and she accepted.
Then, I got shot. I suppose she thought Robert could take better
care of her. After all, if I got killed, I wouldn't have been
around to take care of her, and Robert made a lot more money.
"When he broke her heart and she wanted to get back
together, I just couldn't be her savior anymore." He shook his
head. "I wanted to be her lover, her partner. And I needed to be
taken care of just a little bit. I guess I might've been a selfish
prick."
Ray had to stop at the railroad crossing for a train. He
draped his wrist over the steering wheel and continued as the
short train carrying oil tankers chugged by.
"When she came to see me, she looked so tired. She had
obviously been crying. I fought the urge to hold her and
comfort her, but I had to let her go so I could live. Does that
sound ridiculous, big brother?"
"No. It was the same with Abigail. When I finally let go of
all the pain, I was able to love Chris. Chris is my rock."
"Yeah, I know. I almost lost Larkin because I held on to my
pain so long. Thank God I got wise like y'all told me."
"Ray, what happened to Mia? Where is she now?"
"I have no idea." He gave a one-shoulder shrug. "I'm not
sure I want to know. She was a lifetime ago. I do wonder how
she's taking the news about Robert. The last I heard she had
moved to the big metropolis of New Orleans. As needy as she
was, I don't know if she could've survived in the big city."
"You still care."
I wish I could say I don't
. "I want only the best for her. I'm
not angry with her anymore. I pray that life has treated her
well. Maybe she found somebody to take care of her."
"Well, you know, Abbey married a Wall Street tycoon.
Maybe Mia got lucky, too."
"I hope so."
Raif sat up a bit. "Abbey has only been back home once in
all these years. She came back when her mom died. She hardly
spoke to Walter, but it was her mom that filed for divorce and
was married again within a month. She looked at Audrey so
contemptuously. I wanted to slap her."
Ray snorted a laugh. "I can't imagine you slapping anyone."
"Well, that was one time I was tempted. Our birth mother
did not deserve to be snubbed like that. Abbey has never had a
child. She was too selfish for that."
With a chuckle Ray said, "I'm still trying to picture you
slapping her though. Maybe Chris could have done it for you.
Now, that one I see." He accelerated across the tracks. "Mia
wasn't really selfish. She just needed too much. But she
couldn't really give. I don't think she had much
to
give. I don't
think she would've made a very good mother. She needed too
much attention to care for a child."
"Wow!" Raif laughed under his breath. "We sound like two
philosophical old men."
Ray shook his head vehemently. "Uh-uh! No, no, no.
Maybe you're old, but not me! Although the way pretty little
Neely looked at you, I don't think she thought you were old."
"Oh, please, Ray. Neely wasn't looking at me." Raif twisted
in his seat and grinned. "Was she?"
Ray laughed. "Her tongue was hanging out."
"Oh, I think you're exaggerating. She was flirting with both
of us, and she made a pretty penny by it, too. Moreover, it was
just flirting. Now, stop changing the subject. Have you ever
thought about finding out what happened to Mia?"
"No. I don't want to know because if it's bad, I'll feel
responsible."
"She brought whatever has happened on herself."
"I know that, but still, if I don't know, I can imagine the
best."
"You're not an ostrich, Ray. Don't bury your head in the
sand. Maybe you
should
know."
"I'm not ready for that, Raif. Dealing with Robert's death is
enough right now."
"I understand. Let's change the subject before we get home.
How do we explain our additions to our spouses?"
"They're self-explanatory. And the kids will think they're
cool."
"Yeah, just like their dads. I guess we should get your car.
Maybe the piranhas won't be there, but my wife might. We
could lock her office."
"Lord, help me!" joked Ray. "I've created a monster. Look
what a little liquor and a tattoo have done to my brother!"
They laughed as they parked, but Ray was haunted by
memories of Mia.