Page 6 of Ship Happens

“Yeah, I’m excited to see him again.” There’s an affection in her words, more salt in the wound.

“Okay, well, I should probably get back to my client,” Owen says to her, desperate to end the conversation.

She doesn’t reply to that, instead asking, “What time do you think you’ll be home tonight?”

“Depends, are you and Abigail done fingering each other over Frosty the Snowman?” he jokes, and Kaitlyn laughs, and things quickly feel normal again.

“There’s just something about a man who’s good with children,” she says with feigned longing.

“You’ve never expressed interest in a man in your entire life.”

“Not true,” she insists. “Robert Pattinson.”

“There’s nothing sexual about your interest in him,” Owen reminds her. “You just like weird little dudes.”

“Which is exactly why I hang out with you!” she adds. “Okay, get back to tattooing or whatever. Sorry again for dropping all of this on you.”

“Yeah, thanks for the heads-up.” No matter how short notice it is.

“I’ll see you tonight?”

“Yeah, love you!”

“Love you too,” Kaitlyn says before she hangs up the phone.

For a moment he just sits there, staring at the wall where the most eclectic assortment of art sits on display. All kinds of things belonging to the artists who work at the shop, from sketches and paintings to framed pieces to doodles done on napkins to things found on the sidewalk.

“Helloooo?” Trevor sings from Owen’s station. “Are we going to finish this tonight or not, dude?”

“Yeah.” Owen stretches his back out again. “Sorry about that.”

Just for a few days, Owen tells himself. A week at most. Then he’ll be gone again, and everything will go back to being normal.

“Got a little drama in your love life, huh?” Trevor asks, sitting himself back on the massage table, kicking his legs back and forth as Owen grabs a new pair of gloves. “Chicks or dicks?”

Owen’s almost taken aback by the words. Though it’s far from the strangest thing a client has ever said to him.

“Both? A combo of the two?” Trevor continues when Owen doesn’t reply. The funniest part is that he sounds totally genuine. “Hey, no judgment here. Everyone’s doing their own thing. ’S what makes the world go round.”

“Do you care?” Owen asks, falling back onto his stool.

“Determines the kind of advice I’m planning to impart on you as a man of much experience,” Trevor says with a too-proud smile. “It’s an ex, I presume?”

“He’s coming back into town for the holidays,” Owen answers before he can second-guess himself. Sure, why can’t he confide in a stranger?

“I’m guessing it didn’t end well?”

Owen huffs. “No,” he replies. “It didn’t.”

“Well, time heals all wounds. Give yourself the space to mourn, but don’t let the grief hold you back from finding something new, having new experiences.”

Owen pauses, blinking a few times as he looks up slowly at Trevor. “I . . .”

“Oh, didn’t expect me to give such good advice, huh?” Trevor says with a boisterous laugh. “The Trev-man’s got some experience with breakups.”

“Right . . .” Owen says simply, trying to shake off the weirdness of the moment. “Are you ready to get started again?”

“By all means,” Trevor says, stretching his arm back out so that Owen can continue his work. He takes the time to clean the tattoo, reapplying the dollop of Vaseline onto the top of his hand before he picks up the tattoo gun.