Page 58 of Deadly North
“Yes.” Sitting up, ignoring the pain, I start to cry and laugh at the same time as I fling my arms around him. “Yes!”
EPILOGUE
GIGI
One and a half years later
“Hey! Remember me?”
The man in the reception area at Ink Addicts stands, smiling expectantly. The woman beside him stands, too. It takes a second for my brain to compose his familiar features into a memory. But when I do, it all comes back in a rush.
“Mick!” I exclaim. “Of Mickey and Minnie!”
The man lets out a loud bray of laughter. “That’s right! Though these days it’s Mick and Rosie.” He puts an arm around the woman. “Allow me to introduce you to my fiancée, Rosie McIntyre.”
“Hello, nice to meet you. I’m Gigi,” I say, shaking Rosie’s hand.
“Oh, I know,” she replies. “Mick told me all about you when he got the idea for us to get matching tattoos. He said you were the perfect person for the job.”
“Wow I’m flattered. But how did you find me?” I ask, turning to Mick.
“Got a business card from you last year when you did my Mickie and Minnie tat. Looked up your website, and it said on there that you were working here for the winter.”
Of course. I’ve rented a chair here for the last two winters from my friend Roos, who owns this shop. This gives me the flexibility to work during the cold weather months, which are a slow season for mobile tattoo shops here in Minnesota.
“Congratulations on your engagement!” I enthuse. “Are you here for another round of couple tattoos?”
“Yep. Matching wedding rings this time.” Mack holds up his left hand. “Figured since we’re sayin’ ’til death do us part, we may as well make the rings permanent.”
Rosie leans in, winking. “He’s gettin’ me a diamond, too, though. He ain’t gonna cheap out on me.”
Laughing, I lead them back to my area. Rosie gets her ring tattoo first, then Mick. The two of them regale me with stories of how they met (she was in a wet T-shirt contest for forty and up, he was one of the judges); who fell in love first (each of them says it was the other one); and what their plans for the future are (selling both of their houses and buying an RV to travel the country full-time).
When the tattoos are done, Rosie gives me a big hug goodbye and goes out to wait in their car. Mick pays the bill.
“How about you, Red?” he asks while I’m running his card. “Any eligible men out there on the horizon?”
“Actually, I got married myself a few months ago.”
“You don’t say? Congratulations! But I don’t see no ring.”
“I don’t wear it while I’m working. It gets in the way.”
“Huge rock, eh?” he says.
My mouth quirks up. “Big enough.”
"Thought you said you were too independent for relationships.”
I chuckle. “Yeah, well. That’s what I thought. I was happy to be proved wrong, in the end.”
“Well, damn. Where’d you meet him?”
“I’ve known him practically all my life. I just didn’t know he was the one at first. Matter of fact, I used to hate him. Or at least, I thought I did.”
“Well, damn. Sounds like we both got our second chances, in a way. You with your man, and me with my Rosie. Even though neither of us saw it coming.”
Funny, I guess he’s right. Sometimes when you think there’s no hope, there is. Lightning in a bottle struck twice for Mick. For me and Mack, it only had to strike once. It just took us a while to realize it. And a walk through hell to get there. My therapist says sometimes a traumatic event like what happened with Dylan can end up having a positive side, in that it teaches the person who lived through the trauma to appreciate their lives in a new way. I guess it sometimes happens to cancer survivors, too. My therapist calls it post-traumatic growth. It’s a silver lining for people who survive something that no one should have to live through.