Brad immediately stiffened.
Molly answered before he could.
“It’s a moon.”
The cashier leaned closer.
“Oh.”
She studied it for another second.
“Yeah, I see it now.”
Brad stared at her.
Then he started laughing.
Nothing dramatic followed.
Nobody asked for the story.
Nobody applauded him.
Nobody discovered what the tattoos meant.
We simply bought ice cream and went home.
That evening, Molly sat beside Brad on the couch tracing the sunflower again.
I sat on his other side.
“Did you ever truly want them removed?”
Brad thought for a while.
“Some days.”
“And the other days?”
He looked down at his arm.
“Most of those stories were not mine to tell. The problem was that once people saw one tattoo, they usually started asking about all of them.”
“And the circle?”
Brad looked at me.
“That one was my story. Hiding it was easier than admitting why I never finished it.”
