Try Pink

by Max Ellendale

  "What's this?" She nodded toward the bowl.

  "Something I thought you would like," I said, sliding two pancakes onto her plate. A spoonful of whipped cream followed, as did a sprinkling of cut up strawberries. I dipped one of the whole berries in the cream and held it out to her. Her brows flicked upward as she wrapped her smiling lips around it. A light flush met her cheeks and I grinned. "Good?"

  "Yes." She licked her lips as her blushing continued. I leaned across the table and kissed her quickly, which made her laugh.

  As we ate, I had a difficult time keeping my eyes off her. Most of the time, her gaze fell on me as well. In time, she finished her pancakes and settled for dipping strawberries in the cream on her own.

  "The walls in here are so empty," she said, idly glancing around the room.

  "I never got around to decorating." I shrugged, watching her bite into another piece of fruit.

  "Hmm," she said, thoughtfully.

  "The show at the gallery is in a few weeks. I don't usually go to them, but would you want to?" I set my fork down and sipped my coffee. Her attention returned to me and she nodded.

  "Yeah, of course I would. A show featuring your work? Of course." Her eyes brightened at the thought.

  "Of our work," I reminded her. "Speaking of which, we've got one more to finish."

  "Let's go then," she said, swiping up another berry and tugging me along behind her up the stairs.

  "Yes, bossy." I grinned and swatted her rump on the way up. On the landing, she grabbed me around the neck and playfully trudged me over to the easel. I laughed and pretended to struggle.

  "I like being bossy." She chuckled and stripped out of her sweats, tossing her shirt at my feet.

  "Very sexy there." I smiled as I watched her. She crumbled onto the bed, naked and relaxed in a way she hadn't been prior.

  "I think this will work," she said, lying on her stomach facing me with her chin resting on her hand. A syrupy sweet smile curved her lips as she watched me with eyes twinkling from the light of the window.

  "Yeah, that will work." I nodded, leaning back with my elbows on the table as I gazed at her.

  "What's that line from Titanic? Paint me 'like one of your French girls.'" She laughed and I kicked her shirt back toward her.

  "Something like that," I said, words mingling with heavy laughter as I turned to the canvas that would soon hold the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

  ***

  "Yeah, Mom. The show was great. It'll be up through spring." I held the phone to my ear as I paced back and forth in the studio. I hadn't seen or spoken to my mother in almost a year. My call had her worried that something was wrong. For the first time, everything was right. "No, I'll come by for Christmas."

  "Your father will be happy, Jeslyn. Declan as well. You have a niece now. Did he write you?" My mother's perky voice radiated through the phone.

  "Maybe. I haven't checked the mail in a few weeks."

  "Well, don't worry about it now. We'll catch up at Christmas dinner. I'm so happy you're coming, sweet girl. I've missed you." Her voice dripped with affection that would normally have me shying away.

  "I'm going to bring someone, okay?" I held my breath, waiting her response.

  "We'll set another place." I could almost hear her smile.

  "She'll be happy to know that," I said, gnawing my lip right after.

  My mother paused as if taking time to process my words. "We will all be happy to meet her, Jess. See you tomorrow. I love you."

  "Love you, too, Mom."

  I pocketed the phone and made my way back downstairs.

  "Wait!" Jillian shouted when my feet hit the floor in the hallway. "Stay there."

  "Um… okay. What the heck are you doing?" I glanced down the hall but couldn't see anything different. "Are you naked?"

  "You wish."

  "I do wish." I laughed softly and heard her chuckling.

  "Okay, come here but close your eyes."

  "I'll walk into something," I said, but obliged, keeping my hand on the wall as a guide. A light breeze rushed past me and Jillian's cool hands cupped over my eyes.

  "Hey." I held onto her arms as she walked me somewhere to the left.

  "Stop fussing. Okay, stand here. Ready?" Her voice, thick with playfulness against my ear, had my insides twisting with excitement for whatever she was up to.

  "I'm ready." I breathed deeply as she dropped her hands away from my eyes, wrapping them around me from behind.

  Tucked in the corner of the living room sat a small Christmas tree decorated with delicate white lights, tendrils of tinsel, and a frosted blue star. Beside the tree, illuminated by nothing but the tree light, hung Graydon's portrait. Tears streamed down my cheeks and I hugged her arms to me. She rested her chin on my shoulder as we looked on together.

  "I thought it'd be suiting. He deserves better than a cubby." She kissed my cheek as I choked back a sob. "Do you like it?"

  "Yeah, I do," I said, swiping at my tears. "Thank you."

  "Merry Christmas," she whispered.

  "I love you, too."