As my perfectionist tattoo artist Sir redid the stencil that hadn’t beenjust right, my cell phone rang in my bag.
It was a new one, the old one hadn’t survived the accident, but at least my sister’s information had been in my wallet.
“Dove, hey,” I answered the call.
“Bear, how are you doing?” The warmth in her tone reminded me of how our mother had once been during the nicer moments of our childhood.
“I’m okay. Healing.” Then I smiled at Luke who glanced at me. “About to get my first tattoo, actually.”
“Well done! I have five now.”
I sputtered. “You… what?”
She laughed with obvious delight, and Luke, having clearly heard what she said, shook his head in amusement.
They’d talked several times during my early hospital days. She’d been adamant she would come if I needed her, but he, and I guess his mother, had convinced Dove that she didn’t need to come all the way to the US just for me. One woman flying in to take care of me was enough.
“Honey, I’ve not been in the States since I left, and you haven’t visited. There’s been plenty of time to make, what were they called?”
“’Irresponsible sinful decisions,’” I quoted our father.
“Yes, those.” Then she sighed, sounding pretty happy, as if she’d let go of the past like I had. “I’ve news.”
“Oh?”
“In about seven months, you need to pack up your man and yourself and come visit Ireland.”
I blinked, feeling confused. “What?”
“I’m pregnant, you numpty.”
I gasped so fast that it led to a coughing fit.
Luke grabbed my phone. “He’s choking, probably not dying though.”
I couldn’t hear what she was saying over the whooshing in my ears, but he laughed.
“Congratulations. Let us know when to be there for the christening.”
I held out my hand for the phone. “Okay, I’m back.”
“Yeah, so, I didn’t want to tell you I’d had a positive test when you were at the hospital. I’d been meaning to call you about it anyway, but then you went and got hit by a car.”
“Hey, the insurance money will pay for our trip there, so don’t you go mocking my accident!”
Luke rolled his eyes, then loudly said, “Okay, Dove, I need to start tattooing now and he needs to stay still.”
“Fine, I’ll let you go. Pictures when it’s done?”
“Absolutely. Love you, sis.”
“Love you too, Beary boy.”
Sighing happily, I positioned myself in a way that felt comfortable and gave Luke the best working position.
“She’s fun,” he commented as he dipped the needle or needles, I wasn’t sure how you counted those, in the tiny thimble like cup of black ink.
“She really is.”
