Tattoos: A Novel (32 page)

Suddenly I wanted to toss the flowers in the garbage because what if Jax was telling me he was leaving me? In that moment I needed to find him, so he could tell me I was being foolish. We’d just had the best night of our lives, there was absolutely no reason for us to break up.
 

Not bothering to change out of my yoga pants and tank top I jumped into my Toyota CRV and sped to the Strip. Only after I was there, did I realize that I’d been to Jax’s apartment just a handful of times. I didn’t even know his address. I drove up and down the streets searching for a sign of familiarity, but all the rusty colored brick buildings looked the same. There was no way that I could know which one was his. I punched Vinyl into my GPS, hoping that whoever was there working could give me Jax’s address, or at the very least tell me when his next shift was.

Just as I was pulling the car to the curb in front of Vinyl, the neon sign that said open switched to closed and the lights went dim. I threw the car into park, not caring that I was illegally parked. I raced to the front door of the tiny shop that had an old fashioned gramophone and stacks of records in the glassed-in showcase. I banged on the heavy oak door and even pulled on the brass knob a few times as if it would magically open for me. When the door eased open a little, a rush of relief surged through me.
 

The guy that peaked out looked as confused as I was frantic. He seemed to be about twenty-five or so with long blonde hair that hit just below his thin shoulders. He appeared almost birdlike with a beak nose and close set glassy eyes.

“What’s up,” he said in a stoner drawl.

“Is Jax here?” I said, already knowing he wasn’t.

As expected the guy shook his head. “Nope, he’s gone,” he said.

“Do you know when he’s working again?” I asked, breathless even though there was no reason to be.

The guy scratched his head, appraising me for a second before he answered.

“Are you that crazy stalker ex-girlfriend Emma?” he asked without blinking an eye. Just the mention of Emma’s name ticked me off, but I shook it away.

“Not even close,” I said. “Please, I just want to know when he’s working again.” I heard the desperation in my voice; I was sure he did too. He shrugged.

 
“Don’t know if I’m supposed to say anything but…” He paused and threw a wayward look over his shoulder. “Well, he up and quit a week ago, today was his last shift.”

I felt all the saliva in my mouth dry up. All the oxygen seemed to have been removed from the air.
 

“Quit?” I said incredulously. “Did he get another job?” I managed to get out.
 

The guy shrugged again. “Not that I know about. I heard he had some stuff come up, personal stuff...” He threw his hands in front of his chest. “And no, I don’t know what that is. Anyway I’ve got to go,” he said. “Sorry.” His head popped back inside. The door clicked closed behind him.

As soon as he was gone I wanted to kick myself for not trying to get Jax’s address from him. But truthfully it seemed I had no chance of getting anything else out of him. I slowly walked back to my car, crestfallen that I’d come up empty. Back behind the wheel, I decided to go to the other place where I might find out something about what exactly his personal problems were.
 

I wondered if something was wrong with Gran. I quickly decided that wasn’t the case because even if there was something up with his Gran or even Zeke and Max, Jax quitting his job seemed to be a bit of overkill. Which left one option, there was something going on with Jax.

I hated that I immediately went to the scars on his arms, the ones that the tattoos mostly covered. I couldn’t help but remember the Band Aids on his arms. Could they have been there to cover fresh track marks?

The one topic that had always been off limits was the subject of the scars on his arms. Now it seemed to explain everything. He’d talked about a dark time in his life, what could be more dark than being addicted to cocaine or heroin, or whatever he’d been on. I knew that his Gran had had to sell her house because of debts. Nothing cost more than street drugs.
 

My mind swam with unwelcome theories and images of Jax shooting up. I didn’t want to believe it, but nothing else made sense. Maybe he hadn’t quit his job after all and instead had been fired for using. I’d always thought that I couldn’t be with someone who’d abused drugs, but right then I didn’t think I could just give up on Jax, not after everything we’d been through.
 

I hit the hands free button and speed dialed Jax’s cell phone again, as if this time I’d get him, but it was the same as before.

“Damn you Jax,” I said.
 

I drove across town and into the richer section of the city. I hadn’t been to the hospital in a couple of months and that had suited me just fine. But since I was desperate for information, I sucked up my negative feelings, parked in the guest lot and made my way up to the third floor. As it always had, as soon as I stepped onto the ward I had mixed feelings. I’d been sick when I’d been there, but I’d also been so happy with Jax.
 

I moved toward the nurses station, hoping that I’d find a familiar nurse who could tell me if they knew anything about Jax. I slowed a little when I passed my old room, 312. The curtains were drawn and the door was closed. Obviously by the looks of it, another patient had taken up the gauntlet and was fighting there way through their illness. I said a silent prayer as I walked by, that they’d be just fine like I was.
 

An unexpected shiver ran down my spine. I froze in place, knowing from the core of my being that Jax was here. There was nothing to say he was close other than a feeling. I reasoned that it was just hopeful thinking. Life wouldn’t be so easy that he would just happen to be working right then, when I was there. Especially not since he’d already worked at Vinyl. For all I knew he’d quit working at the hospital too.

I stopped, staring at my reflection in the glass window that had once been my room. I was a mess. My hair was tangled and bits of baby’s breath still clung in the strands of my new extensions. I didn’t have a stitch of makeup on, but as bad as I looked I was healthy, and that mattered more than anything as superficial as make-up and pretty hair. I stood gazing at my reflection, recalling all the times Jax and I had been cuddled in the hospital bed together, where our love was all that mattered.
 

I was just about to turn and make my way to the nurses station when the curtain of my old room was drawn back. For a moment I thought I was seeing things. I pressed my face and hands to the glass. He pressed his face and hands to the other side. His thick hair was familiar, but his face was paler than I’d ever seen him. He wore a sickly green hospital gown and loose grey sweat pants. A clear intravenous tube trailed from his left hand to a bag suspended on a chrome IV pole. All the paintings of his tattoos were hung on every wall in the room. And I knew what his secret was.

 
Knowing the truth made me wish that he’d been using drugs after all. Because I didn’t want him to be sick, not him, not Jax. How could someone as good as him get sick? Suddenly I snapped out of the trance I was in. I broke into a run, throwing the door wide. He opened his arms without a word, there were tears in his eyes. I fell into his embrace, sobs built in my throat and poured out, taking a piece of my soul with every sound.

I felt his hands in my hair, on my face. Then his lips were kissing away my tears, and it only made me cry more.

“It’s not fair Jax. Why did this happen to you…not you. It can’t be happening to you.” Every word that came out of me was separated by a gut-wrenching sob.

“I’m so sorry. I tried to keep you out of this. Damn it Marilee I didn’t want this for you. You shouldn’t be here,” he said.

I tilted my face to his, wiping at my eyes with the back of my hand.
 

“Are you crazy? There’s no place else I could be. And I don’t appreciate you sneaking off…” My body shook with a mix of anger and misery.

“She’s right Jax, she deserves to choose what she wants to do,” Gran said from behind me. I spun around. A lifetime of anguish rested in her face and it made my heart ache even more than before. Jax was all the family she had. I couldn’t even begin to fathom what she was going through.
 

She moved toward me, stretching her arms out. I fell into them. She was smaller than I was, yet in her embrace I felt safe as if she had the power to fix everything. As if by sheer will alone she could make Jax better. I felt Jax’s hands on my shoulders. When I turned to face him I was ensnared in his gaze. He cleared the tears from my cheeks with his thumbs.

“I understand if being here brings back too many bad memories…” His hands dropped to his sides.

I half-smiled. “You’re right, I’ve had some of the most hideous moments of my life here, but also some of the best too. I met you didn’t I ?” I took his face in my hands. I realized that it was thinner than it had been before. How hadn’t I noticed that?

“What can I say? I’m memorable.” His mouth curved into a tired smile.

“What kind of cancer do you have?” I asked. My stomach twisted. The last thing I wanted was to know how sick he was. His odds could be horrible or good. I prayed it was the latter.

“I’ll go and get us something to drink,” Gran said from behind us. “What would you like Marilee?”

I turned back toward her. Even though it didn’t seem possible, more strain weighed in her expression. Grim didn’t even begin to describe her demeanor. It made me think that the news was bad.

“Just a bottle of water, please,” I said. I didn’t really want anything to drink, but I sensed she needed to get out of the room, away from the truth.

“I’ll have a Pepsi,” Jax said.

Gran nodded and left.

“Poor Gran,” Jax said.
 

He took me by the hand and led me to the bed. Gone was my lilac and pink duvet, a plain white hospital issue cotton blanket was draped over the bed instead.

Jax laid down on the bed. He pulled me down beside him then propped himself up on an elbow. I turned my body toward his, so we were facing each other.

“She’s not taking this very well,” he said, sighing. “I can’t really blame her, she’s been down this road before.”

“With your grandfather?” I asked.
 

Jax shook his head. “With me.”

My eyes popped wide. “What are you talking about?” I said.

“I had Hodgkins Lymphoma when I was eleven. You know the whole routine, chemo, the works.” He rotated his hand for effect.
 

“Why didn’t you tell me you’d had cancer?” I asked. I’d thought I’d known everything there was to know about him, but I’d been so wrong. To say I was annoyed was an understatement.

He shook his head. “It was a part of my life that I didn’t want to revisit. The less I thought about it the better.” He glanced down at the inside of his arms. I saw that he’d gotten a new tattoo. I hadn’t noticed it the day before because it had been hidden under one of the Band Aids. Positioned right above the tattoo of my face, the word MARILEE was tattooed in blue on the only space that had been left. Both the E’s were in the shape of survivor ribbons.

“When did you get that done?” I asked, running my fingers over the tattoo that was old enough that there were no more scabs.
 

He shrugged. A little while back. It was going to be a surprise, but I started feeling bad before I had a chance to show it to you.

Then it dawned on me. “The scars that you didn’t want to talk about weren’t from drugs they were from treatment.”

“Drugs?” His laughter filled the air. I appreciated every second of it because I didn’t know how many more times he’d be able to laugh like that. He locked his eyes on mine. “You seriously thought that I’d been using?”

“Not now…a long time ago.” I felt a flush travel up my neck.

“No wonder you were so interested in my scars.” He shook his head. “I’d have told you sooner if I’d known you were upset.”

“To be honest I probably would have been happier to know that you were a reformed junkie than a cancer survivor.”

“Really?” he said, his voice rising.

I shook my head. “No, not really.” I paused. “Is it the same cancer, Hodgkins?’

 
“No it’s called Secondary Acute Myeloid Leukemia,” he said. It meant nothing to me. He must have known by the blank look on my face that I had no clue what it was.

“It happens sometimes after chemo treatment. You know the cure can cause a secondary cancer, it usually happens within ten years of the initial cancer.”

“The treatment got rid of one cancer, but gave you another?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“Then that could happen to me too?” I said, hating that I’d actually managed to steal his thunder. Instead of worrying about him, I’d inadvertently thrown myself into the mix.

He shook his head. “I doubt it will happen to you. They know more now and they use different drugs, better ones, ones that I couldn’t afford…”

“That’s why your Gran had to sell her house,” I said cluing in.

He nodded, grief clouded his face, as if losing the house had been worse than being sick. Another question popped into my thoughts and was out before I could stop it from coming.

“How are you paying for the treatment this time?” I asked. I already planned to talk to Mom and Harold about offering to pay for Jax’s treatment.

A brilliant grin lit Jax’s face. “Now here’s where the miracle comes in. Or that’s how Gran likes to put it.” He pulled me closer until our faces were so near that I was inhaling the air from his lungs.

“There was this patient, his name was Neil. This was actually his room before you came.” A look of reticence clouded his face.
 

“Unfortunately he didn’t make it. His family set up this fund and this room is solely dedicated to people who have cancer who can’t afford treatment. The weird thing is that I’m a little over the right age for this place, but because everyone knows me they kind of lobbied for me to be the first recipient.”