by Stone, Nora
“Ah! You made it! I’m so glad. I have no idea how so much media found out about this, I am so sorry. Tonight was supposed to mainly be a night for investors and contributors, so I was trying to keep media out of it until tomorrow,” Keith said, coming up to us almost as soon as we entered the studio and hugging us both warmly.
“I figured it would be a bit of a media frenzy, but I didn’t think it would be this much!” Patrick said. Keith smirked.
“Well, the truth is that word got out that Mr. Horton would be here tonight, so they are all hoping to catch a shot of him since he is notoriously camera shy,” Keith said. I felt my eyes widen.
“Mr. Horton? As in Lancelot Horton?” I asked, my voice going a bit higher pitched than I’d meant it to.
“You know him? No offence Jacinta, but you never struck me as the type to follow graffiti art,” Keith said.
“No offense taken,” I said. “My aunt used to live in Manhattan when I was a kid. I used to spend my summers up there, because my parents wanted me to experience more than simply the south. Lancelot wasn’t famous then, but he did a lot in my aunt’s neighborhood, covering up the offensive graffiti with art that the families in the neighborhood wouldn’t have to worry about their kids seeing. Whenever I caught him working, I’d sit a few feet away and just watch.”
“That’s amazing,” Patrick said.
“You’re a fan?” Keith asked him.
“I have been for years. One of the reasons I wanted to be here tonight is because I want to buy a few pieces for the house, as long as my love is okay with it,” Patrick said, looking down at me.
“That would be so amazing!” I squealed, clapping.
“Wait a second, I recognize that sound. It’s a squeal I haven’t heard in years,” a voice said from out of sight. A man walked around the corner and stopped in front of us. He was older, probably early forties. His hair was cut close and started to salt and pepper, but his face showed youth and happiness that had kept him young in appearance. He was a man that had taken chances with his choices in life, but didn’t regret any of them.
“Oh my goodness,” I whispered. It was him, there was no mistaking it, even though he was older and so was I. Under the age was the same face that used to share lunch with me while he painted, because otherwise, he sometimes didn’t have anything to eat during the days while his mother was at work.
“I remember you. You were the first fan I ever had, back when I was just a kid,” he said. I nodded. I couldn’t even speak.
“You and your aunt were always so kind to me,” he said. “You fed me when I had no money or means to feed myself. And your aunt used to go to my mother’s house and give her a little bit of money when she could, to help out. She always told my mother that it was payment, for the beautification work that I was doing in the neighborhood, and every time she did it, Mom cried. Happy tears, though.”
I felt my eyes tear up.
“My aunt loved you, and your mother. She told me that sometimes, life makes things hard on people who don’t deserve it and that you and your mother were people who didn’t deserve it. She’d always pack me extra food if I was going to be running around the neighborhood that day, in case I ran into you,” I said. Lancelot nodded and smiled.
“Your aunt was an amazing person. You know, the first big piece of art that I sold, I used the money to put a large hunk of change down on a house in the country for my mother. The second big sale I made, I bought your aunt a car.”
I smiled. “So that’s where she got that big Lincoln from.”
He laughed. “That was what she wanted. I gave her money for you too, because you were the one that made me believe that this was something I could actually do for a living. Did you ever get it?”
I opened my mouth to say no, but stopped. Then I laughed and put my head down.
“She paid for half of college for me, and no one could figure out how. She said that I had a benefactor that I didn’t know about, but that she’d been sworn to secrecy.”
“Yeah, I told her not to tell you. Even when you were a kid, you didn’t strike me as the type who would have taken it unless you didn’t have a choice. She told me that she’d put it into an investment account for you, and that she’d give it to you when you were ready for it.”
“And she did, when I needed it most.”
“Thank you, sunshine. Thank you for teaching me that what I loved doing was amazing, and that maybe my mother wasn’t the only one who thought so. Thank you for believing in me, and telling me that I should believe in myself,” he said. I sniffed. This man was going to make me cry.
“I don’t feel like I did anything. But if I did, it was my pleasure,” I said. He smiled at me, then looked to Patrick, who had stayed silent beside me the entire conversation.
“Is this Patrick McCloud? I am a huge fan of yours, it is a pleasure to meet you,” Lancelot said, holding his hand out to Patrick for a shake that Patrick met enthusiastically.
“Likewise, it is such an honor,” Patrick said.
“You know Sunshine?” Lancelot asked.
“Sunshine?” Keith asked.
“I called her Sunshine when we were kids, because I’m really bad at names and could never remember hers. Sunshine seemed to fit her.” He grinned.
“Miss Sunshine is my future wife,” Patrick said, putting his arm around me.
“Well alright Sunshine!” Lancelot said, making both Patrick and I laugh.
“My best friend is Charlotte Rivera-Parker. Patrick and I met at her and Joey’s engagement party,” I said. Lancelot’s eyes lit up.
“I met Miss Charlotte earlier today, right Keith?” he asked. Keith nodded.
“She came to interview Lancelot and do a story on him and how the studio is doing since her last piece,” Keith said.
“She said that Joey was doing a commercial today, so she’d brought along her son. That little boy is going to be quite the ladies’ man when he grows up,” Lancelot said with a smile.
“He’s quite the ladies’ man now,” Patrick said.
“She invited me out to their home tomorrow, so that I can meet Joey. Will you two be there?” he asked. I perked up.
“Oh, that’s right. Charlotte said that she and Joey are having a cookout on Saturday and they want us there,” I said with a laugh. I’d completely forgotten to tell him.
“In that case, yes. Yes we will be there,” Patrick said.
“I forgot, sorry,” I said, rather sheepishly.
“So are you two just here to see the art?” Lancelot asked.
“Actually, there are a few spots in our house that I wanted to see if I could find pieces for here tonight,” Patrick said. Lancelot grinned.
“I always appreciate anyone who wants to give me money. Why don’t you tell me what you’re looking for and I can help you find it.”
“I’ve got to go run damage control by the door, I’ll catch up,” Keith said, hustling off.
“I can show you where I want to hang them, I took pictures,” Patrick said, pulling his phone from his pocket.
“I like this one, Sunshine. He comes prepared. Okay, lay it on me,” Lancelot said. I laughed as the three of us leaned in and the conversation started.
“This first spot is over the stairs, here, see? It opens onto the den, so it’s a very visible area and I’ve always thought it needed something, since everyone sees it,” Patrick said.
“Oh, that’s a big space. Is the wall flat, or curved?” Lancelot asked.
“This part here is flat, and then there’s a slight corner before its straight all the way up from here,” Patrick said.
“Perfect. I can think of three pieces off the top of my head that would be perfect. Do you have any pictures of that den that it opens up to? That might help us narrow it down,” Lancelot asked. I beamed and let the two of them work.
Patrick and Lancelot walked around looking at pieces for two hours, with me simply there as arm candy, and I was one hundred percent okay with that. It was li
ke seeing a whole new side to the man that I love, since before then I’d had no idea that he was really into any sort of art work. He had a few well done photography pieces in the house, but for some reason I’d always figured that someone else had picked them out for him. Seeing this new, artistic and wonderful side to him was very attractive to me. It also made me happy, to know that even if we were living together, we could still discover things about ourselves that the other didn’t know about.
The third stop on our night was an upscale new club that had opened a few weeks prior. Patrick said if it hadn’t been for the slump that we’d been in, Alton getting sick and with Char and I being upset about Izzy not talking to us, we’d probably have been to it already to check it out. He was probably right, honestly. But I loved being there with him that night. He signed a few autographs, took a few pictures, but only after asking if I was alright with it. I never wanted to take away from the sport he loves. So instead, I went back to our table in the VIP section, and ordered us a few sodas. By the time he got back, I was ready to dance.
Patrick and I danced for hours. We danced until my feet hurt and I had to take my shoes off, so Patrick ended up dancing with them dangling from his fingers, because he didn’t want to leave yet. But that was okay, because regardless of my sore feet, neither did I.
People walked up to us to introduce themselves, talk about how they’d seen me in the news during that horrible situation with Ryan Haught and Joey, then with the plane crash when I’d been photographed helping Patrick out of the hospital and into Joey’s truck with Char’s help. We’d taken them both home that day by loading them into the back of his truck and making them be still while she drove and I fussed at them for backseat driving.
A lot of people said that they loved how Patrick and I seemed like genuine, down to earth people. That we laughed and danced like dorks just like everyone else. Well, he danced like a dork, I have rhythm. The press apparently found out that we were there while we were inside and had camped out around the door, waiting for us to leave. We hadn’t known beforehand, so when we walked out of the club, hand in hand with Patrick carrying my shoes and hysterical laughter spilling from our lips, they got every second of it in pictures.
Later, once we’d stopped for coffee at a small place that was open 24 hours a day, and was usually only populated by night-owl developers who worked from home and insomniacs who needed a change of scenery, we finally arrived back at the house. It was just the way we’d left it: calm, peaceful and ours. Our steps echoed through the silence as we moved into the kitchen and settled at the bar with the ends of our coffees.
“Lancelot said that the pieces we bought will be delivered Tuesday, afternoon. Are you going to be around?” he asked. I nodded.
“Yep, after about 2 or so. I’m working the morning that day, I said. The neighborhood concierge could let the delivery people into the house, but they had to be informed and given prior permission. Plus, that made both Patrick and I a little nervous, so we preferred to schedule things when one of us could be there. Once, we’d had Char come to the house to wait for something for us. Neither of us minded that, but we both felt like it was a pain for her to gather up Al and all of his paraphernalia to come over there, although she swore it was no trouble at all. We tried not to do that to her too often, either way.
“He said that the delivery guys will also hang it for us, so just show them the spots and make sure they hang them straight,” he said.
“Okay.”
Patrick took the last swig of his coffee and tossed the cup into the trash can. “Well, since we have to go out to the Parker residence tomorrow, I guess we ought to get some sleep, hm?”
I smirked. “You want to sleep?”
He laughed. “Not really. But I would like to go to bed.” He winked. I tossed the cup and leapt into his arms.
“You read my mind.”
~~~
A few hours later, as we lay together in that blessed and comforting afterglow, Patrick snuggled up behind me and let out a sigh.
“Well,” he said. I giggled.
“Yeah.”
“Does this mean that we’re okay again?” he asked. I hesitated.
“You know, I don’t think that we weren’t. I think we were just in a bit of a slump, and neither of us liked that.”
“You don’t think that means we weren’t okay?”
“No. I mean, it’s not like I wanted to leave you, or that I was unhappy, I was simply a little over-content.”
“Oh. In that case, I see what you mean. I didn’t want you to leave or anything, and I still loved coming home to you every night. I just knew exactly what you’d be doing when I got here,” he said with a deep laugh. I grinned.
“Right. So since we now know that neither of us wants that, we just have to keep it interesting.”
“Yup.” We sat there in silence for a few moments.
“Patrick?” I said softly.
“Hm?”
“I don’t want to be without you, even if that means that I have to deal with Coach yelling at me all the time when I lose my temper and flip off some idiot photog,” I said. Patrick laughed, one of those sudden and happy laughs that made me smile.
“I don’t want to be without you either, Jacinta. Even if that means that Coach is always yelling at me about the next person that my wife flipped off for being an idiot,” he said. I cuddled into his chest, smiling as I listened to his heartbeat, and fell asleep.
Chapter 26
Patrick and I walked out of the grocery store together with four bags of food that Joey had asked us to stop and get on our way in. We’d called to see what time they were starting everything, and he’d been on his way out, but he hated going to the store so we got suckered into the run for him.
Okay not really. Neither of us minded, actually. And I got to pick up some things that I wanted there for me, and a few things that Char texted me about while we were inside.
“Alright, we’re ready,” Patrick said as we tossed the bags into the back and hopped in to leave.
“Char said that Joey has been working on some new spice rub that he won’t let anyone near for the past two days, and she apologizes in advance if it’s something weird,” I said.
“What’s in it?” Patrick asked. I shrugged.
“She said she’s been trying to find out, but he even woke up when she went sneaking into the kitchen last night to see. It’s like he has an alarm or something on that concoction,” I said. Patrick smirked.
“Well, you know Joey is about his steak grilling skills.”
“A dork?”
“Well, that’s not what I was going to go with, but sure. We can go with that. Just not around Joey,” Patrick said. I laughed as we turned into Char and Joey’s housing complex and showed the gate guard our IDs.
“I love this neighborhood,” Patrick said as we drove through. I glanced across the car at him.
“Do you want to move?” I asked. He sighed a little.
“Not really. I love this neighborhood, but I love my house. If I could move my house in here, then it’d be perfect.” He smiled.
“Is this one better than yours?”
“It’s a little smaller, and it hasn’t had any breeches of security. My place has had a few, though not many. Not really gobs of better, but it’s different.” He turned into the driveway and pulled just outside one of the garage doors. The front door opened as we climbed out and Joey trotted over.
“I saw you pull in. Want some help with those bags?” he said, giving me a warm hug before bumping fists with Patrick. I smiled.
“Love some,” I said, turning and going inside.
“Hey, how do you know I meant that we wouldn’t still need your help? We were in a plane crash a few weeks ago, you know,” he yelled. I turned back with a laugh.
“Whatever, you’re fine, you big wuss,” I said, sticking my tongue out. Patrick and Joey shared a look and a laugh as they grabbed the bags from the back of the car.
�
�Char!” I said, walking through the house.
“In the bedroom!” I heard her yell back. I turned and wandered through the open door, to where Char stood, pulling on a tee shirt while Al played in the floor.
“What were you two doing?” I said with an eyebrow wiggle. Char snorted a laugh.
“Don’t get too excited. Joey was playing with Al right after he ate, so of course he waits until he gets back in my arms to throw up his snack. So both he and I had to change clothes.”
