I know that’s not how things are, but gosh it would be nice to have a big, bold, passionate memory to return to when I’m alone again. We’re facing each other now, kneeling, close enough to touch.

I’ve got to grab this moment while my big rare creature remains with me on this picnic blanket. I need to do something big, or else I’ll be left with nothing but what-ifs. “I’m fairly inexperienced at these things, but this feels like a really romantic setting.”

“It is.” He’s looking at me with a spark of interest in his eyes. “You’re finally noticing that?”

I’m being drawn into his black pupils like he’s hypnotizing me. “Could I ask you to kiss me, please?”

“Your wish is my command,” he says, leaning down. Just a fraction before he touches my lips with his, he says, “But only if you come to the tattoo studio.”

“Yes,” I say, and I get my wish. It is everything I hoped it would be.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

“Are we there?” Renata asks from the back seat, yawning like a kid. “That was quick.”

It wasn’t quick. It was a very long drive, and Teddy and I listened to almost eleven episodes of the Heaven Sent podcast. My hamstrings are tight from sitting, and my stomach hurts from laughing at everything Teddy says. Is it legal to have such a gorgeous side profile?

“Aggie. Aggie.” Renata is nudging her sister. “We’re here at the tattoo parlor. Aggie.” I twist in my seat. Aggie is resting against the door, eyes closed, mouth open. My heart jumps in fright and Renata begins to shake her. “Wake. Up.”

Aggie makes a deep, dry gurgle and sits upright. Everyone breathes out.

“I thought you were dead,” Renata accuses her.

“Not quite,” Aggie replies. She allows Renata to fuss over her, and she does for a few long moments, straightening Aggie’s collar, patting her hand. When I look in the rearview mirror, I see Renata’s eyes are glossed in tears. “It’s all right, it’s all right,” Aggie repeats.

“You really scared me,” Renata retorts, her voice breaking on a sob. “And look how close I am to my tattoo. I would have been too late.”

“Well, you’re not,” Aggie replies. They lean together, foreheads touching. It’s a moment that Teddy and I are now intruding on and we get out of the car. I’m missing something, but I can’t work it out.

“Phew, that felt like a close one,” Teddy says. “Does that kind of moment happen a lot for you?”

“Yes, it does. I’ve found plenty of people who have passed away.”

“Really.” Teddy is surprised. “How do you deal with it?”

“I’ve got a checklist that guides me through it.” I look over at him and see that answer isn’t remotely enough. “Then, after the funeral company has left and their family members have gone home, I cry in the bath.” I don’t want to remember the last time that happened, just over four months ago. Tiny, frail Mrs. Higgins didn’t answer her door when I checked in on her. I found her in bed, ice cold. And I let these three coax me off the property again, leaving everyone behind.

“Please tell me about your studio,” I say with a lump in my throat. “Please help me think of something else.”

Teddy puts an arm around my shoulder. “This is my place. Well, it will be. What do you think? The sign got done yesterday” On the front window is an old-fashioned sailor tattoo, an anchor with a scroll over the top. I read the name of the studio out loud. “Always and Forever. That’s quite a romantic name for a tattoo studio.”

“That’s what I’ve always thought, too. You go on in, I’ll get the gals out.”

Walking into a place like this should be a miniexercise under the Sasaki Method, because it takes guts. I’m in an almost-finished waiting area. There’s a black couch still wrapped in plastic, an unplugged computer, and an empty cabinet stacked with boxes of jewelry. Loose on the counter are printed photos of tattoos. The sore-looking skin with new ink that makes me wince, but I begin to find Teddy’s work.

“There, there, there,” I touch my fingers across the photos.

“Can I help you?” A man walks out, then looks past me and sees Teddy outside. “He actually showed up.”

I don’t like that tone. I indicate the photos. “I was just picking which ones were designed by Teddy.”

“Pretty easy to spot that kind of talent. We’ll hang them up on that wall there. I’m Alistair.” He’s a bearded guy, older than I’d imagined and dressed in crumpled flannel. He looks more like a construction worker, more so because he’s got paint on his forearm and a layer of dust.

I hold out a hand. “I’m Ruthie Midona. I’m Teddy’s neighbor.”

“You’re Ruthie,” he repeats, like I’m famous. We shake hands. “Well, I didn’t see that coming.”

“How do you mean?”

“You’re not what I expected,” Alistair says, which is intriguing, and it’s frustrating when he gets distracted by the sight of the Parlonis holding on to Teddy’s arms. “Wow. I didn’t think he’d last a week doing that.”

“Me neither. But he works twelve-hour days for them. He never complains, and believe me, they give him a lot to complain about.”

“I’m giving her the tour,” Teddy yells from outside, weighed down by his elderly employers. “Wait for me.”

“I hope you’re going to stop giving him a hard time,” I say to Alistair quietly. “He’s working his ass off to make this happen and he wants this so badly. Make him feel like you actually want him here, okay?”

Alistair blinks, hesitates, turns an embarrassed color, and goes to open the front door. “You’re just in time. I need your thoughts on the paint the contractor’s suggested.”

Teddy smiles brightly, then reflexively looks at me, and I’m in love.

I always thought that love would feel like something gentle, but this isn’t. I feel a clawing, desperate need to hold his heart in my hand and to fend off anything that might damage it. The world outside Providence is a chaotic, restless thing, full of disappointments and pain. I am the only one careful enough to hold on to something so precious.

“Fetch the needle, I’m not getting any younger,” Renata says to Alistair.

“We agreed that this is a consult, to get started on the design,” Teddy tells Renata when she opens her mouth to argue. “I’m not designing it for you and that’s final. Alistair is the best.”

Judging from what I’ve seen in the waiting room, Teddy is the best. I wish he would realize it. I’m surprised by how quickly I’ve adjusted to this I’m-in-love revelation. It’s like picking up a coat in a thrift store and shrugging it on; it fits. I don’t need to look in a mirror to know it. Now I just carry on wearing it. My back aches from that huge drive. I don’t know how many more times I could do that.

Alistair takes Renata and Aggie into a small room off the hallway and seats them. “So what are we doing here?”

“I’ve got some ideas,” Renata says, digging in her Birkin for her notepad. “It’s a tribute to the love of my life.”

Has he passed away? How long ago was their affair? I know she’s never married. In that YouTube footage of Renata abusing Karl Lagerfeld, it’s Aggie seated beside her, looking young and lovely. There was some kind of tension between them that went as far back as their prom night. Maybe they were both in love with the same man. I’m rather pleased with my juicy theory and decide to discuss it with Teddy later.

“You are going to make her lifelong wish come true,” Aggie observes to Alistair. “She couldn’t sleep last night, just tossed and turned.”

“I’m honored,” Alistair says, smiling at them both. “I think I’ll need to look at your skin to see if it’s suitable for the piece.”

“Why?” Renata goes very still, like a snake before striking. Alistair doesn’t know her, and he blunders on.

“You’re older than my average client. I’ve never worked on anyone as old …” He trails off and realizes he’s just pulled the pin on a grenade. Teddy and I are already halfway down the hall when she detonates.

We go into a room at the end of the corridor. It’s got a bench for the client, a counter, and a stool. “This will be my room,” Teddy tells me and I watch him smooth his hands down on the countertops. “I like this one because I can see all the way down to the front desk. I can’t wait until I have my own photos on the wall here. So what do you think?”

It’s the second time he’s asked that and he’s nervous for my answer. “It’s great, Teddy. But every boss has an office. Where’s yours?”

The question surprises him. “I didn’t think about that. I’m going to be living upstairs, so I guess I could work out of the spare room? I’m going to talk to Alistair about the things I want to do here.”

Now I notice he’s got a bulging file under one arm. He says, “I got a quote for the software. And I downloaded a free trial and mocked up how it’ll look. It was your idea. It’s things like that that’ll make him take me seriously.”