****
A few days after No. 7 was defeated, August had come over and surprised me.
“Come on, I have something for you; let’s go,” he said as he walked in through the back door.
“I can’t leave, August; I have Max.”
“What’s this about? Ari’s at work.”
At that moment, Ari came in through the garage door and smiled at me.
“You better get a move on it, Ava; August is serious – he’s gonna leave without you.”
He pulled up to the best tattoo place in the city and handed me a gift certificate. I gawked at him in surprise.
“What’s this for?”
“It’s for you. You’re my best friend, Ava. I love you. I am so proud of everything you have done and all that you have become. You are a hero and a mom and I think you are an astounding person. I knew that you’d never get your wrist finished if I didn’t drag you down here and I think you owe it to yourself. You finished the job, did something no one else was capable of and I think your tattoos need to reflect that.”
“Don’t freaking cry on me, Avie; let’s do this.”
Thanks to August, I finished my wrist. I officially had six black two-inch tally marks and one fleshy, pink, slightly longer, jagged one. The assembled tattoos were awesome and the seventh one hurt like hell. I was too happy in life for the pain to be therapeutic.