His best design he kept for himself, not to be used for a tattoo: the drawing of the light-haired, light-eyed boy, now a man from the dreams.
Jess didn’t join him, staying closer to the door. She stood with her colorful arms wrapped around herself. Bright artwork covered from her shoulders down to her hands, fanciful images drawn by Piers, inked by Jess and her fellow tattooists where she worked.
Fairies, gnomes, pixies, and other creatures Piers had no name for all sprung from his imagination. Most came from the stories told by Uncle Lee, others from Piers’ own dreams.
“Thank you, Piers,” Jess murmured, voice low.
“For what?” He paused in throwing balled-up socks into a drawer.
“For being there for me, so I don’t have to be alone.” Jess rubbed her hands over her arms, silver rings winking in the light.
Piers shook his head. Jess always underestimated her worth. Damn the parents who’d made her feel less than other people, then threw her away. “You have plenty of friends, Jess. You wouldn’t be alone.”
“They’re not you.” Jess darted over, planted her lips against his cheek, glanced out the window, and retreated a few steps. She dug into one of the boxes to hide her fear, pulling out a ragged black and white stuffed cat. They’d resewn a few seams and reattached the tail once or twice. Neither Piers nor Jess dared consider retiring the well-hugged animal to the trash can.
Kitty, like them, showed the effects of a rough life.
Piers knew Jess well. The scrappy little fighter put on too brave a face to show weakness. “We need to put Kitty in the living room.”
Other kids picked on Piers his first year at school because he didn’t receive any Christmas presents. Uncle Lee said his family never celebrated Christmas but gave Piers the stuffed cat a few days later, with a red bow around its neck. Piers’ heart squeezed. Uncle Lee should be here, helping him move, giving him fatherly advice. “You know we can have an actual cat here, don’t you? As long as we pay a pet deposit.”
Jess slapped her hands over the cat’s ears. “Hush your mouth!” She cuddled the toy to her chest, murmuring baby talk. “Don’t listen to him, Kitty. We’ll never replace you.”
Piers rolled his eyes, happy to break a tense moment. Sometimes they each fell into dark thoughts, their pasts, the insecurity of their lives, dragging them down into the abyss of depression. However, whatever they needed, really needed, always seemed to come along like some guardian angel watched over them, lifting their spirits. Besides, neither let the other stay sad for long.
He liked to think Uncle Lee kept an eye on him. Or maybe Piers’ mother did, though Uncle didn’t seem to like her much. Piers’ father, perhaps?
Jess turned on her heel. “C’mon. We need to get something to eat before work. What shift you got tonight?”
Piers winced. “Nine till closing.”
Jess joined him in wincing. “I am so sorry. I know you fucking hate closing shift.”
Yes. Yes, Piers did. The longer the evening progressed, the rowdier the customers. Then the eerie walk home in the dark, when most folks slept snug in their beds. “True, but tips are good, and the move means I don’t have far to go to get home.”
“Agreed.”
“This part of town isn’t as dangerous to walk in, even at 3 AM.” He’d hated parting with hard-earned tips on an Uber after work or asking a coworker for a ride. “I can walk home.”
“I don’t like you walking home alone.”
Piers rolled his eyes again. “Yes, Mother.”
“I know!” Jess brightened. “Why don’t I stop by the club after work, hang out a while, and walk you home?”
Piers crossed the floor in three long strides. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? Remember what happened last time.”
Jess held the cat in one hand, raising the other. “I swear I’ll not get wasted and drunk dial my ex. Again.”
“Damned right, you won’t,” Piers mock growled. “Some friends take car keys. I’ll take your phone.”
They ordered pizza—their first meal in their new home—after which Jess left for work. “I have a late client coming in, so I’ll probably get there around 9:30.” She air-kissed his cheek to keep from smearing her purple lipstick and dashed out the door.
The new apartment took a half-hour off her commute, saving her from using the bus.
After she left, Piers puttered around the apartment, shoving books into the bookcase, unpacking dishes. Dust mysteriously disappeared the moment he wished for a duster. Over the years, he’d learned not to question when convenient things happened, though he’d still not managed conscious control of the occurrences.
He admired his and Jess’s domain. A massive improvement over their last place. One helluva lot better than their group home, too, where he’d usually shared a room with three other guys and spent most of his time trying to avoid their dominance pissing contests.