Seamless (20 page)

“I…I just feel it. I know that doesn’t make a ton of sense, but I just…George is one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever met. His soul is sunshine and Nutter Butter cookies. There’s nothing ugly, scary, or mean in him. Me, on the other hand—I’m the imitation Oreos that are just pretending to be real cookies.” Stella shook her head. “There’s no sunshine there, only the moon. The moon is always hiding part of itself.”

“Well, the cookie analogy is well thought out. I do love Nutter Butters and hate those cheap imitation Oreos. Let’s dig a little deeper. Why do you feel like a cheap imitation of anything? You’re a woman who has gone through many different traumas in her life. Your traumas are not only for you to deal with privately, but out in the open for the entire world to see and judge, which makes everything more difficult and you extra strong for dealing with it with such finesse.”

“I feel like I’m just pretending to go through this life until I get killed.” After the words left her, she realized what she said. She inwardly cringed because she’d meant every single word. Stella looked around like she couldn’t believe it. She’d never thought of her herself as biding her time until she died. It wasn’t even just death—everyone dies—she was waiting to be killed.
How fucked up can one person get?

Denise cleared her throat. “I actually think it’s very rational to feel like you’ll die after your fiancé died and you were shot during a bombing. I think you’d be delusional if you didn’t have some sort of residual fear about your mortality. Now we just need to help you deal with this precarious thing called life.”

Stella looked at her phone. “My time’s up.” She stood and walked toward the door.

“Stella. We’ll get you through this.” Denise took a sip of tea and then smiled.

“See you next week.”

As she walked back to her office she contemplated the words she’d just spoken out loud. She was waiting to be killed.
I’m waiting on Jamie to kill me
. It was true, but nothing is really true until you speak it out loud. Once it’s spoken, then you have to acknowledge it and deal with it.
Fuck.

She got back to her office and buried herself in her work until her alarm went off, letting her know she needed to get home to let Cooper out before her yoga class.

After yoga, Stella drove to Finnegan’s and got a check out of George’s safe for his fucking sister’s mortgage. She couldn’t quite wrap her brain around the fact that grown ass women needed their brother to pay for their shit. Kara’s husband had a job. Kelly and her husband had jobs. She just didn’t understand; maybe she never would. As she got back in her car, her phone rang.

“Hi, Dad,” she answered.

“Hey, Stella,” his voice was strained, “you doing okay?”

“Yes, sir.” She drove home to grab Cooper before heading back to Patrick and Billy’s. “You?”

“I’ve had better days.” He sighed into the phone.

“What’s up?”

“I don’t know, I just…” his words got lost by a bad connection.

“Dad? Are you there?” she called into the phone.

“I’m worried about you. I don’t like George not being there with all this shit going on. I’m worried about something happening to you that I can’t control.”

“Shit, Dad, if you’re worried about that, you may get an ulcer,” she joked. “I know all of this is taking a toll on you and Mom. I really am trying to handle it with the FBI and have everything worked out. Jamie is back in the DC office and just walking around like it’s nothing.” She shook her head at the audacity of the bastard.

“I know, I talked to Patrick,” he said, voice bordering on rage. “I can’t even believe the size of this guy’s balls.”

“Dad, I know. I can’t believe that it’s the same guy that spent Christmas with us for four years. I’ve been trying to reconcile this for a year and a half. It’s not possible.”

“I hurt for his family, Stella. I went to that funeral too…” His voice trailed off. “I just don’t know what to think about this.”

“I’m sorry we have to think about it at all.”

He sighed again. “How’s your hand?” he asked, changing the subject, or so he thought.

“It’s okay. It’ll be fine. The cast itches like a bitch though.”

“You coming home for Christmas?” he asked hopefully.

“I don’t know.” She hadn’t even thought about Christmas. “Let me talk to George.”

“Alright. I gotta go.” He was quiet for a few seconds. “I love you, Stella.”

“You too, Dad.” She hung up, worried about her dad’s tone. That was a stranger conversation than usual.

Stella walked into Patrick and Billy’s house, still clad in her yoga wear. She peeled off the fleece she had worn to Finnegan’s and tossed it on a chair. Cooper was sitting in the middle of the kitchen watching Millie’s every movement at the counter. He didn’t even get up to greet Stella for fear of missing a stray scrap.

“Hey,” Millie said, looking up.

“Hey.” Stella bent down to rub Cooper’s ears and down his back. Cooper’s tail swished the floor rhythmically, happy to see her as always. When he didn’t get up to meet her, worries about his age came to the forefront of her mind, but she shoved them back down. Coop was going to live forever. “Your day good?”

“Oh yeah,” Millie replied. “I sat in an eight hour meeting about the re-authorization of I.D.E.A.” She was stirring two separate pots of pasta and spaghetti sauce, her normal Wednesday meal.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but any eight hour meeting sounds horrible.” She opened the oven and saw garlic bread baking. The smell alone made her mouth water.

“You have no clue how bored I was today.” Pulling out the strainer, Millie threw a piece of pasta at Cooper. “I mean, I was so bored I looked at tattoos on Pinterest. Your pictures are on there, did you know that?”

“What the fuck is Pinterest?” Stella inquired as she opened the fridge and pulled out the white wine she opened last night.

“As healthy as you are, you sure do drink a lot,” Millie commented.

Stella snorted. “You’ve know me for five years and you’re just now realizing this?” She raised her eyebrows.

Millie shrugged. “Pour me a glass.” Millie was still in the dress she wore to work, her cobalt shoes kicked off to the side. Her dress was black and gathered at the waist, but the collar was wide and open.

“Where are the boys?”

“I think they’re playing softball on the mall tonight.”

“Why didn’t they ask me to play?” she wondered out loud.

“Because you have a broken hand, jackass.”

“Oh, that’s true,” Stella acknowledged, setting Millie’s wine on the counter. “Duh.” Stella went over to the couch and sat down with her wine.

“Stella…you okay?” Millie didn’t look at Stella, but continued to make their dinner. She didn’t want Stella to think this was some sort of intervention. “You know I love you, but I’m worried about you. First the Jamie run-in and now you’ve basically moved in.”

“I…” Stella wasn’t offended by Millie’s statement; she understood. “I’m just having a really hard time being by myself.” She took a sip of her wine. “I’ve never lived alone,” she admitted. “To be honest, all my thoughts start swirling around in my head when I’m alone and it’s quiet. I haven’t figured out how to turn it off. I’m trying, but I haven’t got it mastered yet. It helps to be around people until I go to sleep.”

“First of all, you’d love living by yourself. You can do whatever you want—walk around naked, eat out of containers, AND watch whatever TV shows you want.” Millie stuck her finger in the sauce again and tasted it. “Perfect.”

As she began mixing the pasta with the sauce, Patrick and Billy came in the front door.

“Just in time,” Stella commented.

“We wouldn’t miss the Hump Day spaghetti.” Billy grinned as he sat down next to Stella on the couch. “What up?” His eyes raked over her strappy yoga tank top. “See, Millie, this is appropriate attire—if you have to wear clothes, that is—for this house. Spandex and strappy things.” He waggled a finger at her. “Do it.”

Patrick walked to Millie and kissed her cheek, whispering something in her ear. She giggled and he slapped her ass as he turned to walk into their room.

“Did you win?” Stella asked.

“I always win,” Billy nodded. “Our team, not so much. There are too many nerds on the team for Patrick and me to make up for.”

“You’re a nerd too.” Stella laughed.

“Yes, but I can play ball.” Billy turned on his video game. “You staying here tonight?”

Stella looked over to where Millie was still messing with dinner. “No, I think I’ll head home after dinner.”

“Damn, I was hoping you’d get drunk and take your top off,” Billy quipped.

Stella almost choked trying not to spit her wine all over the couch.
At least Billy never changed
.

A couple of nights later, Stella pulled her car into Georgetown. The November air was crisp and the sky was clear; she actually took a moment to appreciate the beautiful stillness of the late fall night. She parallel parked her car on the second try and shivered in her light coat and dress as she hurried down the street to Skins and Needles. When she opened the door, she saw Cory and Richard involved in a heated discussion. It was her first time back in the shop since they allowed the tattoo photos to be used in the media frenzy last year. No matter what they might think, she actually didn’t blame them. She’d agreed to sit for those photos and didn’t have a problem with them being used. It was the more personal photos that haunted her dreams. The photo of her and Cooper lying on Jamie’s grave made her want to vomit every time she saw it.

“Hey, guys,” she said with a half wave.

Richard gave an “eat shit” look to Cory and turned to face Stella. “Hey, Stella. How’s my girl?” He gave her a one-armed hug and moved her towards his station.

“What happened to your arm?” Cory asked.

“I broke a bone in my hand. Awesome, huh?” she answered Cory first and then looked at Richard. “Pretty good. So, you got my email, right?”

He nodded. “Why are you so dressed up?”

“I know you’ve never seen me in real clothes, Richard, but I do have a real job.” She chuckled. “I can keep them on for these tattoos.” She self-consciously pulled the hem of her navy sheath dress.

“You broke your hand?” he asked.

“Yep, pretty, isn’t it?” She nodded toward the khaki-colored cast on her right hand.

Richard clapped his hands once, breaking up the uncomfortable conversation. “Let’s get going then. I got your email with want you want. I like it—simple and meaningful.”

They left Cory behind the counter and walked toward Richard’s station. He pulled out a drawer and started rummaging around.

“You sure you’re doing okay?” he asked, not looking at her.

She nodded, not giving in to the prickle at the back of her eyes. She sat in his tattoo chair and watched him pull out two stencils. Since she’d run into Jamie she’d been trying not to have a complete fucking breakdown; these tattoos would help her be okay.

“Which do you want to do first?” Richard asked, looking around his station for something.

Stella couldn’t speak yet; she
would not
cry in public. She pointed to the smaller of the two tattoos on the printout. She was getting them both tonight, but she needed to start with that one.

Richard nodded and started arranging all the instruments. “You won’t get his name tattooed on you, but you’ll do this?”

Stella found her voice. “Yep. I want him to know how much I love him, but that doesn’t mean I’ll put his name on my body. This is a true statement and will be a true statement even after he leaves me.” She put her left arm out where Richard could reach her hand.

Richard shook his head. “What makes you think he’s going to leave?”

Stella smiled sadly at Richard. “He’s smart.”