088

                                    

                                          
"The secret of change is to focus all of your energy not on fighting the old, but on building the new." — Socrates
Jackson has started coming to Inkling.
I started doing the weekly art sessions again for the foster kids, but Jackson asked if he could watch me do some tattoos. It's not the ideal environment for a kid, but it's better than him hanging out on the street, and I think he really just wants to spend more time with Harry.
He's been popping in during the week after school, and he always asks if Harry is around. I think he looks up to him, and it's so damn cute. Harry's been around the shop more because of it, but I'm still not used to his presence.
He's been respecting my space, and we've been managing to find the line between being friends and being what we used to be. We live together like roommates, but we don't spend every second in the apartment together anymore. I don't like the distance that's between us, it feels so unnatural to purposefully stop myself from spending too much time with him. My subconscious wants to be with him all the time.
Harry's also been less controlling over my safety and whereabouts. I've been leaving the apartment without telling him where I'm going, and I can tell he doesn't like it, but he doesn't make a fit about it like he would've in the past. I think he realizes it's not his place anymore to know everything I'm doing.
I bring my attention back to the tattoo I'm currently giving a client. It's a sunflower tattoo on a woman's arm. I don't mind flower tattoos, but they're a little boring sometimes. She added a unique touch to it by having the stem of the flower spell out the word 'hope,' which I thought was cool.
Harry and Jackson are here, causing a little chaos in the shop. They're throwing crumpled-up pieces of paper into the trash can, kind of like basketball. Every time Jackson makes a shot, he cheers like he just won the grand slam.
It's hard to focus when they're having so much fun. The smiles on both of their faces are enough to pull my attention away. When I hear Harry's laugh, it makes it even harder.
I tell them, "You better be buying me more paper."
"Yeah, Jackson," Harry says as he judges him on the shoulder. He jokes, "You better be buying her new paper."
Jackson throws another paper ball and says, "I ain't got no money for that."
Harry teases him, "You better start uncrumpling those papers then."
"This game was your idea!"
"Was not," Harry replies.
"Was too!"
I smile at the interaction. They keep playing the game as I work on the sunflower. She's my last client for the day, and I can't wait to go home.
The woman says to me, "Cute family."
"Oh, they're not—" I stammer. "That's just my roommate and a kid I give art lessons too, not my family."
The woman apologizes, "Oh, I'm sorry. It's just the way you looked at them, I just assumed."
"It's okay," I say with a small smile, and then I ask her, "Do you have kids?"
She replies, "I have four."
Holy shit. Four kids. I can't imagine being responsible for that many children. It must be hard to juggle all of their needs.
"Oh wow, that's a lot. How old?"
"Oldest is 12, youngest is 4," she says.
The woman pulls out her phone and finds some pictures of her kids, showing them to me. They're cute, but I never know what to say when people show me photos of their kids. I don't really care.