Tattooed Hearts

Unexpected Visits & Hospital Beds

Her love is a tattoo on my heart. I can try to cover it, hide it, forget about it. Pretend it doesn't even exist. But it's always going to be there.

And I'm okay with that.

❁ ❁ ❁

I come home a rainy, Thursday afternoon from school. Another bland day. I set my backpack down and head into the kitchen. My mom is making dinner while Mia watches Disney Channel, and I grab a piece of garlic bread sitting on the counter.

"Hey! No eating until the table is set!" My mom swats at my hand as I take a bite. "Go get some place mats and silverware, please." I nod and pop the rest into my mouth, chewing as I gather the items and start spreading them across the table.

Suddenly, there's a knock at the door. I tell my mom I'll get it and I walk over to answer it. The face I see when I open it is the last I would expect. But it's the one I've been hoping for for three weeks.

Grace stands there. Her hair is soaked from the downpour outside. She has her backpack and guitar with her, and she is shivering despite her jacket. Her cheeks are red and blotchy, eyes puffy as if she has been crying.

She immediately speaks. "I know I'm probably the last person you want to see right now," Her voice cracks, sending a pang through my chest. Her throat sounds so sore, it's obvious she is in pain from something. "But, I can't be at home. I...Jane isn't in town. I didn't know where else to go."

I open the door wider. "Come inside, Grace Baker." She nods, walking in as I shut the front door.

"Isaac, who's at the–" My mom stops when she sees Grace. "Oh, hello Grace."

Grace offers a weak smile, her mouth contradicting what her eyes are saying. "Hi, Ms. Richards. I'm sorry to walk in like this."

"Grace needs a place to stay for tonight." I affirm, being able to tell Grace is in a bad mindset.

"Oh, of course. Is, uh, is everything all right, dear?"

"Mom." I say, shooting her a warning look to not press on. She shakes her head in understanding. I turn to Grace, noticing her wiping a tear quickly from her eye. "You can sleep in the guest room."

We start to walk down the hall. "Is Grace here?" I hear Mia call from the family room. She bounces over, frowning when she sees how sad Grace is.

"Keep watching your show, Mia."

"But I want to see Grace!" She argues.

"Mia, please." I snap. Mia opens her mouth to protest, but I shoo Grace away before one of my family members can ask her another thing. I open the guest bedroom door, allowing her to walk in.

She sets her backpack and guitar on the bed. She slips off her jacket, putting it aside, and takes a seat on the mattress.

I walk in, sitting down next to her. She pulls her bag onto her lap and unzips it, pulling out some shorts and a grey shirt. She stares at the clothes folded in her lap, not saying a word. I can't help but wonder what happened to her.

"If you want to talk abo–" I start.

"Please, no," She cuts me off, voice a soft murmur. "Please don't ask questions."