“Aunt Ellie has Dad.”
I paused.
“Aunt Ellie has… what?”
“I saw it when I was playing.”
“Saw what, baby?”
He pulled his damp hands from the towel and slid off the chair.
“Come. I show you.”
Children sometimes say things that sound strange and turn out to mean nothing.
This was not one of those times.
Will tugged me back outside, marched across the patio, and pointed directly at Ellie.
“Mom,” he said loudly, “Dad’s there.”
Ellie looked up and laughed.
I laughed too, automatically.
“Silly boy.”
But Will didn’t laugh.
He kept pointing, serious now, frustrated that I wasn’t understanding him.
I followed the line of his finger.
He wasn’t pointing at Ellie’s face.
He was pointing lower.
Toward her side.
Ellie leaned forward to grab her drink, and her shirt shifted just enough for me to see dark, fine lines inked into her skin.
A tattoo.
At first, I caught only part of it.
The curve of an eye.
The bridge of a nose.
The edge of a mouth.
A portrait.
My smile stayed frozen on my face, but inside, I felt like the ground had disappeared beneath me.
“Okay,” I said to Will, keeping my voice light. “Go sit at the table and wait for cake. You can play again after.”
He ran off.
I walked toward Ellie.
“Can you come inside for a second?” I asked. “I need help with something.”
“Sure.”
She set her drink down and followed me into the kitchen.
The moment the sliding door closed behind us, panic rose in my throat. I needed to see the full tattoo, but I couldn’t simply ask her to lift her shirt.
“What’s up?” Ellie asked. “Need help with the cake?”
“Actually…” I looked around quickly, then pointed above the refrigerator. “Can you grab that box for me? I hurt my back a little setting everything up.”
“Oh no. When?”
“This morning. It’s not bad. I just don’t want to make it worse.”
She stepped closer to the fridge and reached up.
