by Jenny Rabe
Cambria pushed the thought down deep and tried to focus on the present. Today was a day to be celebrated. Three more paintings done. She felt like she was in college again, staying up late to finish projects. Somehow, she’d been blessed with an ability to work quickly with her artistic talent.
She smiled at the finished paintings. Shawn would be proud. Until she decided what to do with them, they would stay on her walls, encouraging her to finish the rest. She added the three paintings along the right wall, now taking up one whole side of the hallway. There were features of Brian in each of them that made her smile. Something about his face brought her hope.
Her phone rang in her pocket. “Hey, Mom,” she said immediately, sitting back in her chair.
“How was the meeting last night? Jancy told me you went.”
Cambria pushed back against the chair. “Mom, she’s probably breaking a lot of rules by telling you that.”
“Who, Jancy? No, she knows I’m just concerned. She told me you and another guy are paired up for some project.”
This time Cambria rolled her eyes, knowing exactly what she meant. “Yeah, so?”
“And she mentioned the guy was a real catch, really handsome too.”
Cambria bit her lip. “Mom, it’s not like I picked him. Jancy paired us up, just like you said.”
Her mom huffed. “Well, you can’t blame me for being happy that you’re at least around other people, especially a guy.”
Cambria twirled a stray curl that had fallen from her ponytail. She didn’t want to overdo it and give her mom any hope, but a few details wouldn’t matter. “Remember the other day I was running, and I bumped into a guy?”
“Yes. Was it him? Oh, it must be fate.” She could already see the wheels turning in her mom’s head. Time to put on the brakes.
Cambria blew out an exasperated sigh. “Yes, it was him, but that’s not what I meant. Meeting him has given me some inspiration, and I’ve been finishing paintings that have just been sitting around for weeks.”
“Well, that’s definitely a start. There must be something there if he’s giving you inspiration.”
Cambria shook her head. Why did she even bother? “All right, Mom, I need to get back to work. I’ll call you later.”
Her mom sighed. “Cambria, you know it’s all right to move on, right? Shawn would have wanted you to be happy, especially after putting you through everything he did.”
Tightness gripped Cambria’s throat like a choking hand. She avoided talking about Shawn with her mom because of this reason. Her mom had warned her against getting married to him and seemed relieved when he was no longer around, which only gave Cambria more guilt.
“Bye, Mom,” she squeezed out. Then she hung up the phone before saying anything hurtful. She knew her mom was just concerned.
Even though she’d risen with good intentions to finish more faces, her paintbrush remained motionless on the next canvas. The phone conversation had zapped whatever inspiration she had left.
She opened her notebook and studied Brian’s sketches, but it did no good. Seeing him in person was what really sparked a fire in her. He had a practice scheduled, but she was leery of returning and making him suspicious.
Instead, she went out to her yard to water the droopy flowers she’d neglected. The back yard was full of exotic flowers from the original owner and she felt bad for not giving it more care. She had suspected the Walkers occasionally watered them or else the sun would have scorched them dry by now.
As she filled her watering can at the outside hose, Mr. Walker peeked over the fence and grinned.
“Ms. Cambria, how are you doing, little lady?”
He climbed the stepstool ladder he conveniently kept by her side of the fence so she could see more than his eyes. He wore a large, straw hat and a crooked smile.
“Hello, Mr. Walker. Beautiful day, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is. Not too hot.” He pretended to prune the vines that hung over the fence as she watered the many plants, taking time to give them an extra drink.
When she got close enough to him again, he said, “Something’s changed, hasn’t it? You look . . . happier.”
The watering can shook in her hands. Was it that obvious? She picked it up again and tried to show nonchalance. “I guess it’s the good weather. It’s been hot for so long, and I’ve finally been able to complete some paintings I’ve been working on.”
“Yes, it has been quite a scorcher of a month. When the cool air comes for the first time in weeks, it seems that life can finally start again.”
Brian’s face flickered into her mind. Cambria twitched her mouth. Like cool air after a long stretch of unbearably hot days, he had awakened something in her she thought would never see the light of day. Her hope. “Yes, I guess it does.”
Seeing Brian’s face had become an addiction, feeding her drive to finish her work. She couldn’t stay away from the park now.
She waved goodbye to Mr. Walker. “Good talking to you. Tell Mrs. Walker hello for me.”
He dipped his hat in her direction. “Will do. Nice to see you, Miss Cambria.”
Even though she’d see Brian in a couple of hours, she couldn’t resist this new urge to see him. Since he seemed to notice her every time she came, she decided to keep her distance today, not even going toward the bleachers. She kept the hat, but left the parka behind, hoping he wouldn’t notice her from a distance.
She took the long way around the field and sat on a park bench that faced the other way so he had his back to her. It wasn’t the greatest angle of him, but the binoculars helped and she had a great view of him when he was up to bat.
She only stayed an inning or two, feeling refreshed and ready to work again.
When she returned, she took her favorite baseball painting and set it beside her. She had completed it first, but couldn’t bear to hang it. It had all of the features of Brian. She kept it nearby, more as a comfort. Then she grabbed the next faceless painting, one of a dad pushing his little girl on the swing.
She closed her eyes and pictured Brian pushing his daughter on the swing. She smiled. He would make a handsome daddy. What? Why had she thought that? She shook those thoughts away and returned to her painting, finishing it with time to spare for a shower.
Just in case he would recognize her, Cambria changed her outfit, slipping on a plain yellow T-shirt that was only slightly paint-splattered and a pair of jean overalls. She smiled as she looked at her disheveled wet ponytail, her paint-splattered hands that never really came clean after one wash, and now her faded, old T-shirt. At least there was no way he could be attracted to her looking like that.
Chapter Nine
Brian
Brian pulled up to 543 Fowler Lane a little after 6:30. He’d barely squeezed in a shower after dinner with Rob, but refused to show up dripping with sweat. After a quick shower, his hair was still damp, but at least he smelled nice.
When he parked in the back of the empty lot, he spotted her standing near a parking bumper in front of the graffiti wall. Her hands were on her hips, her head tilted to the side. She was almost as impressive as the wall wasn’t. Words, signatures, and obscene drawings filled the length of the wall. It would take hours to cover the thoughtless gestures.
On the other hand, the way Cambria studied it made him think she had found beauty in it nonetheless, that she thought the wall art was worth taking time for. He rubbed his hands against his jeans, suddenly nervous. No screwing this up.
“Hey there,” he said, inwardly cursing himself for using such a personal greeting.
As she turned, a pencil flew out of her hair, tumbling to the ground. “There it is,” she said, picking it up like it was the most natural thing to have writing utensils in someone’s hair. “I’ve been looking for that.”
He chuckled, glad she knew how to laugh at a mistake. She continued to stare at him, and he wondered if he’d spilled something on his shirt. After he discreetly checked, he glanced toward the wall and back a
t her. “Get an eyeful?”
Her face flushed again, reminding him of the color of his watermelon gum.
“What? Oh, the wall?” she asked. “Yeah, this is going to be a big project. I’ve never removed graffiti, but my guess is painting it might be easier than trying to clean it off. It’s just way more expensive, and I doubt the library would foot the cost.”
“Oh, you don’t need to worry about money. I’ve got it covered.”
She raised an eyebrow. He felt like such a rich schmuck. Who went around bragging that they had enough money to rid the world of graffiti? He decided to correct himself before she got the wrong idea. “I mean, I’ve got friends at the paint store and can get a great discount.”
She shrugged. “Thanks, I guess. I couldn’t really help out in that area anyway.”
Brian studied her, itching to know what she meant by that. But that would go against his resolve to keep things neutral. “So where should we start?”
Cambria scanned the length of the wall again. “I kind of want to see the other spots before we make a plan. Maybe this one’s the worst.”
He looked back toward his truck. If he didn’t offer to drive her, it would be rude.
“Can I come with you?” she asked. “My car’s temperamental, and I’m pretty sure it’s going to crap out on me any day.”
Brian found the only other car in the parking lot, a reliable commuter car that looked like it had clocked one too many miles. “I’d be happy to drive.”
On the way, Brian was surprised how easily they talked, keeping things light and talking about Harker Heights.
The other three locations were conveniently on the same road as the first, and as they drove to each place, they compared notes on Harker Heights. They both hated humidity, both hated bugs, minus the lightning bugs, and they loved the people.
After visiting the last site, Cambria turned to him. “So the first spot was the worst. Let’s start with the easier ones, and maybe with a little elbow grease we can get these stains off. I have something from my supplies that might work. Then if it doesn’t, we can try something different.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
On the way back to her car, Cambria stayed on the edge of her seat, tense but seeming to see everything. Probably why she was an artist. He took a chance and decided to pry into her personal life.
“So you’ve been in Harker Heights a few months?” he asked, remembering their conversation from the other day. He hoped his voice sounded confident enough. Never had he sweated so much asking a girl a question.
“Yeah. I wanted to get out of Phoenix to . . . start again.” When she didn’t say anymore, Brian offered some of his own history.
“Me too. I mean, I’ve only been here a few months.” He decided to take a leap of faith and open up to her. “I moved here from California a few months ago as well.”
“Oh, I’ve always wanted to visit there,” she said suddenly. She spoke so quickly he barely recognized her as the same person. “We had plans to go to Disneyland, but . . .”
She stopped talking, and Brian watched as a pained expression crossed her face. He had a sudden urge to reach over and squeeze her hand or her shoulder. Instead, he sat on his free hand while his other tightened on the wheel. Had she lost a child? A husband? A friend? He tried to say something that might make her feel better.
“It’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it. I mean, I know you’ve lost someone. Why else would you go to the meeting? But if you’re not ready, I understand.”
He parked next to her car and was surprised to see her studying him with such intensity. He’d done it again. How did he always screw things up? “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
She shook her head slowly. “No, no, don’t apologize. My husband died about a year ago. I’m still learning how to respond when someone brings it up.”
Brian tightened his grip on the wheel. “I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine . . . I lost my dad recently, and I feel the same way. I just don’t know what to say when people bring it up.”
For the first time tonight, her face softened in a smile. Her mouth was tiny, but her smile lit up his insides, and he dared to hope for the first time in years.
“I’m sorry for your loss too. Thank you for driving and for . . . being kind.”
Brian blinked fast a couple of times. Of course she deserved his kindness and more. “Goodnight, Cambria.”
She smiled again, sending a flutter to his insides. He waited until she started her car and left the parking lot. He was tempted to follow her home to make sure she arrived safely but forced himself to turn in the opposite direction when he left the parking lot.
His phone buzzed with a text. He picked it up quickly just in case it was Cambria.
Heard from a little birdie you headed south. See you soon.
Brian stared at the message until his eyes watered. This couldn’t be happening. No one knew where he was. He didn’t recognize the number, but after the incident with Violet, he had replaced his phone and changed his number. Had someone really found him? If someone had, this would complicate everything.
Chapter Ten
Cambria
Almost a week after they met, Cambria hurried to the park to run a mile before Brian showed up for practice. She tried not to sit in on his practices too often. Once every two or three practices, she changed locations so he wouldn’t always find her staring from the bleachers.
She’d slowed down a bit, only finishing a painting every other day. Eventually, she’d have to start selling them or she would run out of supplies. Whenever she thought about Shawn, her looming debts, her broken-down car, or her house full of finished canvases, it sent her into a spiral of depression. Seeing Brian was her only motivation most days.
Today, when she passed the one-mile marker, she saw him. He was running toward her.
“Hey, you’re here,” he said, smiling broadly. “You must live in this neighborhood.”
Cambria was a little taken aback at his greeting. “Uh yeah, just down that street.” Brian looked in the direction she pointed and scratched at his stubbly face.
“You haven’t shaved today?”
He stopped rubbing. “Uh yeah, not for a few days. It’s an unemployment hazard.”
“Oh, when did you lose your job?”
Brian chuckled. “Well, I shouldn’t say unemployed. Not quite used to that term yet. Self-employed. Though if you’re not very motivated to get things done, you get kind of lazy.”
Cambria bristled, as if those words were meant for her. “Yeah, I know the feeling.”
He scratched his head. “You do?”
This conversation was going down a rabbit hole too fast. Time to change the subject. “Aren’t you supposed to be at baseball practice?”
Confusion crossed Brian’s face. “Practice was cancelled, so I thought I’d run. Wait, how do you kn— “
Cambria spoke quickly, regretting her fumble. “Oh well, you were going there last week, so I figured that’s why you’re here.”
Brian’s smile widened. “Maybe you are stalking me.”
Heat rushed to Cambria’s cheek. “I-I didn’t—”
Brian chuckled. “You know, when you blush, your cheeks turn a bubblegum pink.”
“Wh . . . You shouldn’t . . . I don’t . . .” Cambria sputtered, not able to get a single sentence out.
“See,” Brian said a little softer. He reached a hand to her cheek, almost touching it.
Cambria flinched away. Brian’s eyes flickered with a new look she hadn’t seen before. Regret? Embarrassment? It wasn’t one she ever wanted to capture in her paintings. She felt bad for razzing him for giving her a compliment.
Cambria’s phone buzzed with an email, and she tore her attention away from him to check it. “It’s a reminder about the grief meeting tomorrow.”
“Will you be there?”
His eyes looked especially soft as he waited for her answer. She hadn’t thought about if she would go
back. She knew she had to. Where else would she see Brian so up close again? “I might.”
Brian nodded. “Well, good. How about we meet the night after and tackle the graffiti wall? I have some ideas for the smallest wall.”
“Sounds great. I’ll bring what I have too. Is 5:30 okay?”
“Yep. It’s a date.”
“A date?” Cambria said, more to herself than to Brian. Here she was again, sending the wrong messages.
Brian wiped sweat from his face. “Not a date. Just an expression. See you tomorrow night at the meeting.”
Chapter Eleven
Brian
The next day at practice, Brian chained Sunny to a tree with a long leash and put a bone and a bowl of water in front of him.
Sunny whined, his eyes filled with sadness.
“I know, buddy. I promise to take you on a run after practice. No barking at the birds. You scare people sometimes.” Sunny barked in response, and he gave his dog a good scratch behind the ears.
Brian dropped his things in the dugout and met his team on the mound for a pep talk. Their first game was coming up, and he was psyched.
He glanced over at the bleachers expectantly. There she was again. Third row, far left. The woman wasn’t there every day, but Brian had grown accustomed to looking toward the bleachers for her. She always sat in a spot where she could see him, but third row, far left was her favorite position.
No one on the team seemed to know her, but a few of the single guys seemed interested in getting her number, though he wasn’t sure why. Her wardrobe was enough to prove she had a few screws loose.
Why did he care what she looked like? He shook his head. She was here. Again. With paper and pen, ready to destroy him. He hadn’t received another text since the other night, but that didn’t mean anything.
He glared at her, hoping that sent the message he wasn’t interested in being blackmailed into revealing any more about himself that would taint his name. He’d been put through enough. No, he would not be tricked into talking to another newspaper writer ever again.
