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Authors: Norma Jeanne Karlsson
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coming out of left field for sure.
He goes into my room and heaves me onto my bed. I pop right back up on my feet like there are springs in my back.
“WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR MALFUNCTION, KAVY?” I’m screaming in his face, his eyes are closed. He opens his eyes slowly and looks right into mine. He’s sorry. Caveman carrying me up the stairs is way out of line and he knows it. I can see it all over his face, but I’m livid. I rarely, if ever, get mad. I’m even at all times. However, if you get me mad I am hell on wheels to calm down. I have a nasty temper and know how to use it. I can hurt people with my words and my body. Usually, if you have the pleasure of seeing this side of me, you’ve earned whatever you receive from me. Kavy doesn’t, so I am trying to reel it in.
“Kid, I’m fuckin’ sorry.” His shoulders are hunched and he’s looking at the ground. “When we were in your bathroom talkin’ this morning, I saw the scar on your hip.” He looks into my eyes and winces. “All I’ve been thinkin’ about today is that night, Kid. How fucked up you were. How it was my fuckin’ fault. I can’t do that again, Shannon, I can’t.” Not what I was expecting. Now I feel like a dick.
“Kavy, look at me,” I’m somber but soft in tone. He looks at my eyes and I swear he’s about to cry. “I’m fine.” I take off my shirt, unbutton my jeans and pull my boy shorts down just enough to show him the scar on my hip. He looks down and cringes. I grab his hand and put it over my hip and the scar, holding his gaze strong with my own. “You saved me that night Kavy. You. Saved. My. Life.” I pull him close and wrap my arms around his middle. “I have one tiny scar on my body from him, but I have my whole life because of you. Don’t you ever blame yourself for that dog’s choice,” I sigh into his chest and can feel the tension melting off him. “I pity the motherfucker that tries to fuck with me now, Kavy. Don’t you?” He lets out one brief laugh, and I pull back to look at him.
“I love you so fucking much, Kid.” He’s coming back around now. “You know that right?” His fingers and eyes are lightly tracing the tattoo that runs along my left ribcage. It starts just below the side of my breast with a Celtic knot that forms a four leaf clover, the stem is a continuation of the knot, loosely intertwining and sweeping down my ribcage to my hip. We all got some variation of this tattoo six months after I moved in with the guys. The first months after Liam’s attack were really hard on all of us. I was in therapy once a week for four years but the first few months were the worst. I blamed myself, hated myself, tried to pull away from everything around me. My boys rallied around me and fought hard to pull me out of that darkness. Sully suggested the tattoo and I jumped at the chance to mark that point as the beginning of my new life…again. The day we went to get the tattoos I was finally able to see the beginning of the light at the end of a very long tunnel.
Sully has a huge back piece that goes from shoulder to shoulder with his last name scripted out of a Celtic knot design with the dot on the i being the same clover I have. Kavy has his glorious chest covered in a Celtic swirling tribal pattern with the clover at the center of his chest. Cally hates needles so his is a small clover on the inside of his left bicep. The Celtic knot has many interpreted meanings: love, family, an unbreakable bond, the list goes on. Once we realized we are all third generation Irish immigrants, the knot became the personification of our relationship and thus the birth of the tattoo.
“How could you not love me? I mean look at this body,” QVC modeling with each mention, “this face, these tits, these legs, and let’s not forget my winning personality!” We’re both laughing full on after that and my door opens. Finn, Sully, and Cally are standing in the doorway staring at us. I’m half naked and we are
He goes into my room and heaves me onto my bed. I pop right back up on my feet like there are springs in my back.
“WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR MALFUNCTION, KAVY?” I’m screaming in his face, his eyes are closed. He opens his eyes slowly and looks right into mine. He’s sorry. Caveman carrying me up the stairs is way out of line and he knows it. I can see it all over his face, but I’m livid. I rarely, if ever, get mad. I’m even at all times. However, if you get me mad I am hell on wheels to calm down. I have a nasty temper and know how to use it. I can hurt people with my words and my body. Usually, if you have the pleasure of seeing this side of me, you’ve earned whatever you receive from me. Kavy doesn’t, so I am trying to reel it in.
“Kid, I’m fuckin’ sorry.” His shoulders are hunched and he’s looking at the ground. “When we were in your bathroom talkin’ this morning, I saw the scar on your hip.” He looks into my eyes and winces. “All I’ve been thinkin’ about today is that night, Kid. How fucked up you were. How it was my fuckin’ fault. I can’t do that again, Shannon, I can’t.” Not what I was expecting. Now I feel like a dick.
“Kavy, look at me,” I’m somber but soft in tone. He looks at my eyes and I swear he’s about to cry. “I’m fine.” I take off my shirt, unbutton my jeans and pull my boy shorts down just enough to show him the scar on my hip. He looks down and cringes. I grab his hand and put it over my hip and the scar, holding his gaze strong with my own. “You saved me that night Kavy. You. Saved. My. Life.” I pull him close and wrap my arms around his middle. “I have one tiny scar on my body from him, but I have my whole life because of you. Don’t you ever blame yourself for that dog’s choice,” I sigh into his chest and can feel the tension melting off him. “I pity the motherfucker that tries to fuck with me now, Kavy. Don’t you?” He lets out one brief laugh, and I pull back to look at him.
“I love you so fucking much, Kid.” He’s coming back around now. “You know that right?” His fingers and eyes are lightly tracing the tattoo that runs along my left ribcage. It starts just below the side of my breast with a Celtic knot that forms a four leaf clover, the stem is a continuation of the knot, loosely intertwining and sweeping down my ribcage to my hip. We all got some variation of this tattoo six months after I moved in with the guys. The first months after Liam’s attack were really hard on all of us. I was in therapy once a week for four years but the first few months were the worst. I blamed myself, hated myself, tried to pull away from everything around me. My boys rallied around me and fought hard to pull me out of that darkness. Sully suggested the tattoo and I jumped at the chance to mark that point as the beginning of my new life…again. The day we went to get the tattoos I was finally able to see the beginning of the light at the end of a very long tunnel.
Sully has a huge back piece that goes from shoulder to shoulder with his last name scripted out of a Celtic knot design with the dot on the i being the same clover I have. Kavy has his glorious chest covered in a Celtic swirling tribal pattern with the clover at the center of his chest. Cally hates needles so his is a small clover on the inside of his left bicep. The Celtic knot has many interpreted meanings: love, family, an unbreakable bond, the list goes on. Once we realized we are all third generation Irish immigrants, the knot became the personification of our relationship and thus the birth of the tattoo.
“How could you not love me? I mean look at this body,” QVC modeling with each mention, “this face, these tits, these legs, and let’s not forget my winning personality!” We’re both laughing full on after that and my door opens. Finn, Sully, and Cally are standing in the doorway staring at us. I’m half naked and we are
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