Tattooed Hearts by Mika Jolie

Author:Mika Jolie [Jolie, Mika]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature & Fiction, United States, African American, Women's Fiction, Romance, Multicultural, Multicultural & Interracial
Amazon: B0157E69H6
Publisher: My Happy Chaos Publishing
Published: 2015-09-08T16:00:00+00:00

In the arithmetic of love, one plus one equals infinity, and two minus one equals nothing. It is a cruelty of life that a heart can keep on beating even after it has been broken in two. It can feel as though it is being gripped in an ice-cold vice and ache as if it will implode in your chest, but still the boom-boom continues. I never said what I wanted to say, but I fell for you harder than a slip on black ice.

* * * *

Forrest’s throat tightened the minute he pulled the Jeep into Herring Creek Farm. The place looked somber and deserted. He glanced at the yellow tractor by the barn and could almost see his father working the land. His heart clenched. He exhaled some of the pain from his system and continued driving to the Victorian house. His foot lifted off the accelerator, the Jeep slowed, passed one of the Herring Creek delivery trucks. Returning to the farm forced him to swim once more in the tide waters of the past, his childhood, who he thought he was, and was no longer.

He entered the house and was greeted by total hush. No sign of his mother. A combination of relief and sorrow tugged at him as he made his way down the hall. Photographs on the wall, cataloging some of the best moments in their lives followed him. A few were sun-bleached and a little damaged, but each was a conduit of his best memories.

His mother took pride in framing them, and was meticulous with the way they were hung. She measured the space between the frames so each celluloid could be properly aligned and exact in distance. She used to tell him these pictures encouraged her to visit these moments and kept them from fading, vanish from her mind, as if none of it ever happened. Forrest stopped to examine a particular picture of him with his parents. His mind’s eye darted to that specific period in time when Victoria captured his father turning the hose on him and his mother. The love in his mother’s eyes, the mischievous smile on his father’s lip stared back at him.

“Forrest.”

His mother’s voice snatched him from the promenade down Memory Lane and forced him into the chaos his life had become. He turned and took in her appearance. She stood, tall and strikingly beautiful, with his father’s two beloved black Labs at her side. The dogs ran to him, tails wagging. Forrest crouched down and scratched their ears.

She removed the woolen hat, sandy brown hair fell down to her shoulders in waves. Big, bright gray eyes that typically glittered looked washed out, like an old white shirt that had been washed with dark colors a few times too often.

“I didn’t think you were here,” he said, straightening to his full height.

“I was by the lake.”

He nodded. They continued to stare at each other. Bright, vivid thoughts of him racing down the hall with his parents at his heels trundled through his brain with no intention of stopping.

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