16
Micah
Sam’s familiar knock sounded just as Micah was finishing up with the last boring medical transcription file of the day, which either meant that he’d fallen behind, or Sam was early. Micah tuned the sound out, pausing the transcription file he was almost done with to focus on the robotic voice of his screen reader, his fingers flying over the keyboard by touch as Sam let himself in.
“Dude, what are you gonna do when that thing comes to life and takes over your toaster or whatever?” Sam asked, flopping down on the couch and unwrapping a taco from the current day’s fast-food haul.
“It’s a screen reader, not an AI,” Micah said, grinning as his fingers flew over the keyboard. “I doubt we have to worry about the rise of Skynet.”
Sam snorted a laugh, crunching into his taco.
“Can’t you get an upgrade to Siri or something? For real, Micah, yours sounds like some kind of cheesy 1980s sci-fi robot.”
“Shh,” Micah said, rolling his eyes as he paused typing to adjust his headset. “Don’t make me redo this; it’s boring enough as it is.”
Sam was miraculously quiet as he finished up, and Micah closed his eyes to avoid the distraction of seeing the text on screen as he typed. It was easier and faster to rely on listening to the assistive software read it back to him for accuracy, and even though he did push himself to practice reading with his eyes when it wasn’t work-related, all he cared about at the moment was wrapping it up so he and Sam could get going.
“Done?” Sam asked when Micah slipped his headset off a few minutes later.
“Yep,” Micah said. He hopped out of his chair, stretching out the kinks. “That was the last one for today. Are you early?”
“Yep,” Sam repeated, grinning back at him. “Want a taco? I got a party pack.”
“Of course you did,” Micah said, laughing as he reached for one. “Thanks.”
“I’m right though, right?”
“About Skynet?” Micah asked, trying to keep a straight face.
Sam snorted. “About lunch, and the fact that you skipped it.”
“Maybe.” Micah grinned. “But a dozen tacos is still overkill.”
Sam shrugged, grinning as he looked around. “Where’s Pipp?”
“Oh my God,” Micah said, shaking his head as he laughed. “You didn’t seriously think I’d let you feed her these, did you?”
He dug through the pile of tacos in the hopes of finding some hot sauce. Score. He loved how they were color coded, so he could tell at a glance which one he was grabbing. Micah liked the green ones best, but Sam preferred the red… and since all the packets felt the same, before he’d gotten his sight back, Sam had “accidentally” passed him the red ones more than once.
“What?” Sam said, giving him a too-innocent look. “I picked up some Cool Ranch Dorito ones, just for her. Don’t tell me you’re going to deny her. Pipp likes ’em.”
“Oh my God,” Micah said, trying not to laugh. “Please don’t tell me how you know that.”
Sam grinned unrepentantly around a mouthful of food. “They make her fart, though.”
“Well, it’s a good thing she’s not here, then,” Micah said, thanking the universe for looking out for him once again. “Alicia has her today.”
“Again?” Sam wadded up the wrapper from his first taco and tossed it on the coffee table, then immediately pulled out another. “Dude, I never see Pipp anymore. She’s gonna think I forgot about her or something. Did Mrs. Lee finally come around and decide she likes Pippin after all?”
Micah smiled. “You know that intersection at Grande Avenue? The one that gets so busy in the morning?”
Sam nodded, shoving more food in his mouth.
“Alicia and Pippin were over there last weekend—” the day Micah had taken Zach home from the hospital, “—and someone ran the light.”
“Oh fuck,” Sam said, his face losing its usual good humor. He put down the taco. “Is Ali okay?”
“Yeah. Pippin stopped her when she tried to cross.”
Intelligent disobedience.
Sam grinned, his shoulders relaxing. “See? Pipp totally deserves some taco action, bro. That’s some Medal of Honor shit right there. Mrs. Lee must love her now, huh?”
“You could say that,” Micah said, smiling at the understatement. Mrs. Lee had been spoiling Pippin worse than Sam did ever since it happened.
The whole thing still kind of scared Micah when he thought about what could have happened, but he was determined not to turn into a fourth M and start worrying about Alicia whenever she ventured out on her own. Besides, didn’t the whole thing just prove yet again how even the worst things in life generally happened to make way for something good? If Micah hadn’t gone to Zach, Alicia would’ve been at that intersection with only her cane, and while of course Micah hated that Zach had been hurt, he’d never stop being thankful that Pippin had been with Alicia when the girl had needed her most.
“So… what?” Sam asked, unwrapping a third taco, because apparently his stomach was bottomless. “Now Pippin’s on perma-loan to the Lees?”
“Not permanent,” Micah said, hunting through his desk drawer to find the portable drive he kept his favorite photos on. “But, um, Zach can’t have pets at his apartment, so—”
“Pippin’s not a pet, she’s a certified service animal,” Sam interrupted with a super lame impression that Micah guessed was supposed to be him.
He laughed. “Yeah, but when she’s not working, that’s kind of like cheating?”
“So what you’re saying is that whenever you stay over to get it on with your new boyfriend, Pipp gets a sleepover, too?”
“Something like that,” Micah said, glad his back was still to Sam.
Just thinking about “getting it on” with Zach made his cheeks get warm. More than warm, actually. His face split into an unstoppable smile that Sam would surely tease him about if he saw, but the truth was, Sam was right. Even though Zach had to get up stupidly early during the week, Micah had been sleeping over quite a bit since Zach’s accident.
He finally found the compact little storage drive he’d been looking for in the drawer and turned back to face Sam, holding it up.
“You ready to go? I’m really hoping this will turn out well.”
“Course it will,” Sam said, heaving himself off the couch. “Let me just toss the rest of these tacos in your fridge first. You can give ’em to Pippin later.”
Micah rolled his eyes. As if that would ever happen.
“How’s your man doing, by the way?” Sam called out from the kitchen. “He still getting headaches?”
“No,” Micah said, grateful beyond words that Zach hadn’t done any lasting damage to himself when he’d been grieving. The headaches had faded along with the scrapes and bruises, and from what Micah could tell, Zach seemed to have made peace with his father’s death, too. “I think he’s okay.”
“You think? What does your mom say?” Sam asked, coming back into the living room. He jerked his thumb toward the door, raising his eyebrows as he jangled his keys in front of Micah. “Ready?”
“Mam says he’s lucky,” Micah said, grinning as he snatched for the keys. He missed. “You should give me a driving lesson.”
“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Sam said, smirking. “Unless you’ve suddenly mastered depth and perspective?”
“Not quite,” Micah admitted, following Sam out the door and locking it. “But what if I never get it, Sam? It’s been over a year. I totally thought I’d be driving by now, and not tripping over everything, and not so… so… you know. Still confused by what I’m looking at half the time.”
“Nothing wrong with a little Picasso,” Sam said, shrugging. “Dude was an artist, like you.”
He slung an arm around Micah’s shoulder as they headed for his car. Not a hug, though. Two squeezes: obstacle.
Micah sighed, blinking to try to see what he’d missed, then giving up and just dodging it, trusting that Sam wouldn’t ste
er him wrong.
“Am I going to be clumsy forever?”
“You were gonna be blind forever before the surgery thing happened, I mean… I don’t know, Micah. No one who counts cares if you bump into a few things, right? Does it really matter?”
“No.” Kind of. “I don’t know. I just… I’d like to be able to do what other people do.”
Sam snorted. “Why would you want that?” he asked, buckling himself in and waiting for Micah to do the same. “Dude, you’re you. No one sees the world like you do. Why be like the rest of us?” He leaned over and tapped the portable drive Micah was holding. “This shit would just be rocks without you.”
Micah nibbled his lip, running his fingers over the cool metal in his hands. Was his plan a dumb idea?
“It is just rocks.”
“Nah, bro. Once you get your hands on it, even rocks turn into art.”
Micah smiled, turning to look out the passenger window without pushing himself to try to figure out what he was seeing for once. It was stuff like that—Sam always having faith in him and calling him an artist, instead of just someone trying to make sense of the world, and thinking it was no big deal that Micah tripped over everything—that made him forgive Sam for making his dog fart and eating with his mouth open and the eight million times he’d given Micah the red fire sauce by “accident.”
“Dude...” Sam said, glancing over at him.
“What?” Micah asked when it sounded like Sam might leave it at that. “Do I have hot sauce on my chin?”
“Nah. I was just thinking. We could go out to that back lot of the community college later, if you want. It’s always empty. Not much you can bump into there, if you wanna learn a few of the basics.”
Micah blinked, trying to figure out what Sam was talking about. Then, when he did, he smiled so hard his cheeks hurt.
“You’re going to teach me to drive?”
“I’m sayin’ the basics. Not like, around other moving objects. Don’t get excited.”
But Micah couldn’t help it. Sam was the best friend ever.
Micah followed Sam into the gallery and immediately fell in love.
“Oh my God,” he said, rushing over to a huge rectangular explosion of color that was mounted on the wall facing the entrance. “Sam, look.”
“Uh… what is it? Fruit?”
“Yes. Well… maybe?” Micah laughed. He had no idea, actually, but it was full of all the colors of a sunrise—which he’d finally seen a few of, thanks to Zach’s early schedule—except here, they looked far more exciting. The fiery shades and the calm ones didn’t blend together, the way they did in the sky, instead, the piece was full of interesting curves and bubbles and intersections that pulled his eyes along from one shade to the next and made it feel like there was no way on earth the print could actually be flat.
Micah wanted to touch it, so he tucked his hands behind his back to resist the temptation. It was flat, he was pretty sure, and he wondered if there was any way his own flat photos could be made to look so touchable.
“Yes, it’s fruit,” a man said, walking over from the other side of the gallery to join them. “It is part of Enrique Bota’s Jugoso series. Would you like to see more of his work?”
“Totally,” Micah said, looking around the gallery.
“Uh, are you sure we have time?” Sam asked, sounding far less enthusiastic at the idea of a gallery tour. “I mean, dude, we’ve still gotta get the framing done and you know… driving lesson.”
“Oh, are you my framing appointment?” the man asked, pausing in front of a canvas whose colors looked shiny and wet behind the glass.
“Tell me that isn’t paint drying,” Sam said, snorting a laugh.
The man grinned. “Brilliant, isn’t it?”
“It’s beautiful,” Micah said, tilting his head to the side and getting a little lost in the textured color before he remembered to answer the first question. “Um, yes on the framing appointment? I’m Micah Rawlings.”
“Koen West,” the man said, holding his hand out. “We spoke on the phone earlier. Have you had a chance to decide how you want your print framed?”
“Not really,” Micah said, biting his lip. “Could I maybe see some examples of what you were talking about?”
“Absolutely,” Koen said, gesturing for Micah and Sam to follow him into a back room. “Your choice in mounting, matting, framing, and glazing will affect how the viewer experiences the piece, and how it integrates into the display area. Are you hoping to create an accent piece, or a focal point?”
“Shoot me now,” Sam muttered, plopping down on a stool. “Can’t we just get it printed at Walmart?”
Micah laughed. “Shut up. You’re the one who said it was art.”
“Dude, you shouldn’t listen to me. I thought this was gonna be a drop off and go situation. Besides, guys are easy. How about you just give Zach a blowjob for his birthday instead?”
“Oh my God, Sam,” Micah said, slapping his hands over his cheeks as they instantly started burning.
Koen laughed, not seeming even remotely put off by the blowjob comment. “So this is a gift, then?”
Micah nodded, doing his best not to be mortified. “Um, my boyfriend doesn’t really have any color in his apartment? I mean, it’s there, but not really on purpose? It’s just sort of…”
He grimaced, waving his hand in the air to trace the shapes of Zach’s boring, utilitarian decor. He tried to figure out a way to describe it that wasn’t too critical. It wasn’t that Zach’s apartment looked bad, but it was like everything in it had been chosen just for functionality. It constantly amazed him that people who’d been able to see all their lives so often chose to surround themselves with things that didn’t celebrate that fact.
Koen grinned, as if he understood, even though Micah hadn’t finished explaining. “So, more of a focal point,” he said decisively. “Why don’t we start by looking at the image you’d like to print, and then we can talk about how best to present it. Did you email it to me?”
“No, I’ve got it here,” Micah said, pulling out the portable drive. “I mean, I’ve got a bunch? I know I want to use one of the pictures I took at a beach he took me to, but I haven’t decided which one for sure? I’ve picked a few of my favorites and sort of, um, changed them.”
Not that the rocks weren’t pretty on their own, in Micah’s opinion, but he’d wanted to make the picture feel more like Zach. Photoshop really was the best.
Koen took the drive and plugged it in, stepping aside once he’d gotten the directory pulled up on a large screen mounted on the wall. “Which ones are you considering?”
Micah took the mouse from him, opening his three favorites so that they were displayed side by side on the screen. All three featured the green rock Zach had taken home from the beach, and a little thrill went through him like it always did when he thought of that. He hadn’t even realized Zach had taken it until he’d found it at his apartment later, and the idea that Zach had wanted a memento of that first surfing lesson had given him the idea to print one of his photos for Zach’s birthday.
“Oh shit, dude,” Sam said, coming up to stand next to him. “I thought you said just rocks. These are kinda awesome.”
“It is just rocks,” Micah said, tilting his head. “Well, mostly.”
He’d added some textured layers from the crashing waves behind the rocks. He hadn’t tried to put them together so it looked like an actual beach; he’d wanted it more interesting and dynamic than that. The effect isolated the green rock and highlighted a few select others, and Micah liked the way he’d been able to make them pop by playing with saturation and hue and a few other things.
Of the three images he’d pulled up, he liked the middle one best. Partly because he’d also added in some of the glittering, falling water arcs from the jet pack pictures he’d taken the day he’d first met Zach.
“It is rocks, yes,” Koen said from behind him, his voice sounding like a smile. “But it is not ‘just.’
The middle one is the most powerful. For display in a home without other art in it, I would suggest a simple canvas print with full wrap, no bleed, so that there isn’t any separation from the viewer. And I would go large. Maybe thirty-six by fifty-four inches, depending on the space you are working with and your budget. But…”
“But what?” Micah asked, turning to face him when he didn’t go on.
“Are you open to selling instead? If that were the case, I’d do a dry mount on a two inch wood frame, a limited-edition run to start.”
Micah blinked. “Um, selling it? No, this is for Zach. This rock is kind of special? I mean, it’s ours, it’s not for other people.”
He felt a little foolish saying it, it was just a rock, but it was still how he felt.
Koen grinned. “Okay. But if you want to email me anything else that you are open to selling, I’d love to take a look.”
“Really?” Micah asked, a little frisson of excitement moving through him. “You think people would want to buy my pictures?”
“’Course they would,” Sam said before Koen could answer. He slung an arm around Micah’s shoulders. “Hello, how many times have I told you that, dude? You should trust me. Plus, if you start selling art, you can ditch your day job before you accidentally unleash Skynet.”
Micah laughed. “Well, I don’t think a few pictures are going to pay my rent, Sam, but it would be pretty neat if someone actually bought something I’d made.”
“Does that mean you’ll let me take a look at some more of your work?” Koen asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Sure,” Micah said, biting back a smile. Even if Koen and Sam were wrong, it was still pretty awesome to get the offer. “And I think you’re right about doing Zach’s picture as a canvas print, but can you show me how big you were thinking? I’m not very good with visualizing dimensions.”
Sam bitched and moaned about getting stuck in an art gallery all afternoon as Koen walked Micah through the rest of the ordering process, but Micah wasn’t buying it. Having Sam for a best friend was just another piece of proof that Micah’s life really was blessed.
Looking For Love (Semper Fi, The Forever Faithful Series Book 2) Page 20
