Painted Passion

by Latisha Brandon

  For the past two summers, they had begun to spend more time in New England. Her mother would retire soon. Would they decide to live there year round? The winters were just as bad in Chicago.

  “Tell me the rest of your story,” Ashlyn said.

  “I thought you’d forgotten. Well, I hoped you had,” Kevin said, merging into the far right lane.

  “Why, is it that embarrassing? Somehow, I can’t see you making a fool of yourself, which is my department. I am a born klutz.”

  “I embarrassed my father and shamed my mother.”

  “How?” she asked. She knew that there would be no laughs at the end of the telling.

  “By the time I was sixteen, my future was set, a major art scholarship to a well-known school out west. So I was riding high as long as I kept my grades up, but I had no worries because good grades came naturally to me.” Kevin exited, turning into a tiny town, a sleepy hamlet with a pace vastly slower than Philadelphia’s.

  “I’ll tell you the rest when we get on the ferry. I need to see your face as I tell you my side. This is nothing I’m trying to make excuses for. I was wrong and I almost lost my life before it even really began.”

  Ashlyn’s mind was full of questions. What would he possibly tell her? How bad could it be? How would she handle it? She chided herself for acting before she knew much more about him. She was over twelve hours from home and thinking with her girlie parts. She should stick with online sex, not that she had ever tried it. But if she made it home, she would. So much for spontaneity. Ashlyn supposed she could swim back to shore if the need arose.

  * * *

  Kevin felt her tense, knew her mind was running the gauntlet of emotions. She probably thought she was riding on the back of a bike with a maniac.

  Real smooth, Kev.

  He should have waited. His voice probably sounded very ominous over the headset. They waited silently in line, behind vehicles waiting to board the ferry. Kevin had purchased the tickets online last evening; she would say he assumed too much, except that her mind was in another place.

  How to tell the person you are beginning to more than care for that, as an immature and impressionable male, he’d made one of the biggest, most idiotic mistakes of his young life. In no way did he want to portray himself as just another statistic. He‘d made mistakes, but he’d lived to see another day. At the time, he’d thought it was the end. He remembered the look on his father’s face at seeing him cuffed to a desk in the police station, surrounded by his father’s fellow policemen. Shame filled him. Every lesson learned had been blown away by one split-second decision. He would not return home that night, and not for many more.

  Finally, the line began to move, and Kevin started the bike again, slowly moving forward. Steering the bike with one hand, he placed his other over hers at his waist. He silently pleaded with her for understanding and the patience to hear the rest of the story. He didn’t want a childhood mistake to ruin their beginning. Kevin knew his early life was different from her white-picket-fence upbringing. He was born and raised in South Philly, in a row house, no picket fence nor yard.

  However, that didn’t stop him, Aaron, and their friends from making the best of discarded cardboard, they jumped those homemade ramps from sunup to sundown.

  Calvin, Kevin’s oldest childhood friend, had brought the love of skateboarding from Oakland, right outside of San Francisco. His family had relocated from the west coast when they were both ten, and they had been friends ever since. At that time Kevin was use to being the most daring and outspoken, but Calvin challenged him and pushed him past his comfort zone on many occasions. However, he was also the type to clown Kevin in front of their friends about his excellent grades, as if he should be ashamed instead of proud.

  Kevin was now man enough to know that Calvin was the type of friend to keep at a distance. They still spoke, but now very rarely.

  Kevin could still remember his mother hanging out the window on the second floor, shouting down the street, telling them it was time for him and Aaron to come in. They would continue to jump, though, following behind Calvin, their hero. Calvin stayed out as long as he wanted, attended school when he wanted, and knew more about running the streets of Philly than even Kevin and Aaron, who were born there.

  Bringing his thoughts to the present, Kevin drove up the ramp, gliding to a stop at the space designated for him. He waited for Ashlyn to climb off and remove her helmet. He prayed he would not find ready judgment on her stunning face.

  “Who’s going to watch your bike here on the ferry?” Ashlyn tucked the helmet under her arm and finger-combed her hair. She looked at her face in the mirror attached to the side of the motorcycle, knowing she would find flyaways.

  “If anyone tries to steal my bike, they won’t get far. Do you want to go up on deck so you can ask all the questions I see in your eyes?” Kevin carried both helmets and led the way.

  Her eyes bore into his back. She didn’t want to hear what he had to say, because she didn’t know if she could handle it.

  As they reached the deck, the wind whipped her hair about her face, blocking her view.

  “Is right here okay, or do you want to walk to the other side?”

  “Where’s the dictating Kevin I’ve come to know?” Ashlyn sat beside him, focusing her eyes on the water ahead. The day was too dazzling for bad news.

  “I think he may be hiding, waiting for your reaction.” Kevin crossed his legs at the ankle, pretending nonchalance.

  “You’ve given me nothing to react to. What is it, Kevin? Just come out and tell me.” Ashlyn prepared herself for the worse, believing her face showed nothing.

  He touched her cheek, draped his arm around her shoulder. His touch was constant, along with his words. “You have nothing to fear from me. I’m not an ax murderer, but then you already knew that.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “I take you for the type of woman who leaves nothing to chance.” Her skin felt buttery soft to his fingertips. Neither looked at the other, but they were still aware of each other.

  “You’re right, I don’t,” she said, turning her face away from the water and into his hand.

  “Just how far back in my past did you go?” Kevin asked.

  “Pretty far.”

  “Good, because I did the same to you,” he shocked her by saying.

  “So, we both acknowledge knowing more about each other. What does that say about us?” She answered her own question: “That we’re not very trusting.” The waves sloshed against the side, rocking the ferry back and forth. Ashlyn grabbed her canvas bag and retrieved her sunglasses.

  “What did you find out about me?” he asked.

  “If I tell you what I found out, do you promise to tell me what I didn’t?”

  “I’d tell you regardless,” he stated, reassuring her.

  “I know that you’ve never really had a serious relationship, and you date a wide range of women from dancers to poets. I’ve noticed you have a weakness for models and women of a certain skin tone.”

  “Does that bother you?”

  “If it did, I wouldn’t be here. What did you find out about me?”

  “Only things about your professional accomplishments. I came across very little personal information. I did find a photo of you and a bearded lumberjack type of guy. You were at a PETA rally.” Kevin had tried to figure out what the attraction with the lumberjack was.

  “That’s Franklyn Tatum. We were in a relationship for a few years. He works for an organization that tries to get companies to go green, or at least halt increasing expansion at such a rapid rate.” Kevin heard the respect in her voice.

  “The type of organization that causes expensive if not permanent damage to a company if it doesn’t follow his lead fast enough. They send explosives as warnings,” Kevin said.

  “No, Frank would never do such a thing.” But doubt was in her voice. “Just what type of criminal past are you hiding?” Ashlyn asked.

  “Th
e type that was done as a boy, not a man. Can Frank say the same thing?” he retaliated. Even the way she said Frank’s name let him know just how deep a history they’d shared. He had to be the only man she had ever shared an intimate relationship with, and Kevin planned to be the second for a very long time.

  “Frank has nothing to do with this.” Ashlyn spoke to his back as he rose and walked to the railing. The wind plastered his shirt to his frame, accentuating his long swimmer’s torso. He made her feel his movements, even from afar.

  Ashlyn walked to his side, placing her hand at the small of his back, encouraging him to open up and reveal whatever he was trying to keep hidden.

  His hands gripped the railing. “Can you blame a man for what he did as a boy?” The question was rhetorical. “When I was seventeen, I was arrested, and my world came to a standstill. One moment every door was open to me, and the next slammed shut. As I said before, I received a scholarship to a school out west, but once they found out what happened, the school withdrew the offer. Actually every school that offered me a scholarship withdrew it.”

  Kevin felt her hand rubbing his back, soothing him. “My father walked into the police station amongst his colleagues and saw me handcuffed to a desk. I refused to give anyone my name, but a friend of his recognized me and called him. Never have I been more shocked than I was when I looked up and saw him standing before me—six feet of angry father, a look of utter disappointment and disgust on his face. The only words out of his mouth were, ‘Your mother would be so ashamed.’ She’d been gone for about three years, and my father knew where to touch me.

  “He didn’t pull any strings to get me released, because he was trying to teach me a lesson. He just let me go to the county detention center, where I stayed for over six months. When they released me I was angry and bitter, pissed at my father, my dead mother, the world. I didn’t know what was I supposed to do because college was out of the question…I hadn’t even finished high school.

  “Besides, I didn’t have the money to pay for it and the money my parents had saved was for my brother. They’d counted on me getting a scholarship. My senior year was nearly over. I had missed the majority of it.”

  “What did you do, Kevin? How did you manage to make your way to college?” she asked, caught up in his story, feeling the full impact.

  The setting sun drew the attention of the other passengers, but Ashlyn looked at Kevin, turning her body to his. “Please tell me, because we shouldn’t have anything between us.” Ashlyn drew his lips to hers, hating the wounded look in his eyes. She wrapped her arms around his neck, anchoring him, bringing him back to her.

  “If you keep this up, I’ll probably forget the rest of the story. Let’s go inside.” Kevin held her hand and gave one of the helmets to her. They sat at one of the empty tables and he asked, “Do you want something to drink?”

  “No,” she said.

  “My father is the reason I attended college. If not for him, who knows where I would be at this exact moment—not here, and not with you. You wouldn’t have recognized me back then. The confidence was there, but also the stupidity of youth. I figured if they were going to take my scholarship, and I couldn’t graduate with my class, then school wasn’t for me.

  “So, I stood on the same corner for about two months, never going home, sleeping on any and everybody’s couch, and only seeing my brother in passing. I had no idea of what exactly my father was up to.

  “One day while I was there, feeling sorry for myself and blaming everyone around me, my father came to get me. I’d never been so relieved. Of course, I pretended outrage. He stepped out of his car, called me ‘Zahir’, like my mother use to, and snatched me up by my collar.

  “He dragged me off that corner, and I argued with him for the sake of face, but he was a breath of fresh air.” At that moment, so long ago, he’d sent a silent prayer of thanks, because the hefty decision had been taken out of his immature hands. His father had taken over.

  “Your father sounds like my hero.”

  “Mine as well. By then, my father had sold the house I was raised in. My senior year was spent in Dover, Delaware. My father moved us there, into a two-bedroom apartment. He left his job as a cop and went to work for the Delaware Department of Corrections. When I walked in the door one day after school, he handed me an acceptance letter from the one college he’d picked out. He told me I had no other choice but to go.

  “It was the only school my dad was willing to pay for. If I decided not to attend college, I had to find a job and my own place or enter the military. My dad paid my tuition with the money from the sale of the house, a house that had belonged to his grandfather, and later his father, but he assured me that he had no regrets.”

  “I am pretty sure he didn’t…you’re his son, after all, and parents have a certain amount of responsibility,” Ashlyn said, trying to get him to see reason.

  “But at the cost of his family’s home. It was a very selfless act, and I repaid him by not talking to him for over a year.”

  “Why would you refuse to speak to your father, after all he sacrificed?” Ashlyn was dumbfounded.

  “He reminded me of how it was my mother’s dream for me to attend college.” Kevin left out how her conservative father had refused to let her go; she wasn’t even allowed to attend a traditional high school. “At the time the university didn’t fit the image I had of myself. Plus, I was embarrassed and ashamed of all the mistakes I’d made to bring me to that point. My pride got in the way,” he told her simply.

  “Your arrogance is staggering. I can well imagine the image you had of yourself then. What’s the name of the college?” she asked.

  Kevin smirked. “The University of Vermont, and it’s called self-assurance, not arrogance.”

  She couldn’t seem to stop laughing. The very idea of him in pristine, rural Vermont was astonishing. Kevin was an urban cat, forced out of his concrete environment. To one so radically rebellious, the actions of his father would seem absurd, but they were just what he’d needed. Ashlyn wiped the tears from her eyes, “I have to meet your father,” she said.

  “Are you done laughing at my expense? I’ll have you know not only did I graduate, but I was in the top one percent of my class. While Vlad was in the bottom half.”

  “You and Vlad in Vermont. This story just keeps getting better.” Her throat was sore from laughing so hard, and she couldn’t seem to breathe through her nose. “The New Yorker and the Philadelphian bonding in picturesque Vermont. Did you take up fly fishing? I hear the many lakes are conducive to that.”

  Kevin chose to ignore the bit about fly fishing. There was no way in hell he would willingly stand in frigid water up to his thighs, trying to catch a fish. “We had a few classes together, and I offered to help him meet girls when I noticed how pathetic he was. He couldn’t get one word out, he stammered so badly, and then he would start to sweat buckets. How could I not help him? I felt sorry for him.”

  “You stayed for two extra years in Vermont. Why?” Ashlyn asked, curious.

  “Simple. I fell in love with the locale—it was a balm to my weary soul. It helped me rebound after the death of my mother, and they offered me a position as resident artist. I never really accepted she was gone until I got over my anger and my father realized that.”

  * * *

  The sound of heavy chains creaking alerted everyone that they would soon disembark. The sky above them was velvety black, with shards of crystal reflecting a minimum of light. Kevin turned to Ashlyn who stood at the railing with him. “Let’s stay for a few days.”

  Her eyes went round with shock, “What? Kevin, we can’t stay. I didn’t bring extra clothes.”

  “We can stop at a store and pick up whatever you need. A bathing suit, preferably a two-piece, please. It would make my day.”

  “I’ll just bet.”

  “You only need a few things. A few pair of shorts and panties, because it’s not like you’ll need a bra,” he jokingly told her.

&n
bsp; “If you ever want to see my braless breasts again, I suggest you tread carefully,” Ashlyn said.

  Kevin kissed her, holding her close, and whispered in her ear, “What do I need with more than a handful? I’m not greedy.” He silently begged her to stay.

  Ashlyn stepped into the kiss, returning it with a need of her own. She was where she wanted to be, in his arms.

  “Spend a few days at the beach with me. I’ll even rub sunscreen on your back and let you return the favor.”

  “You are so thoughtful,” she told him with faux gratitude. “Don’t you have to purchase items from the store?” Ashlyn headed toward the stairs, not seeing the wince on his face.

  “No, I don’t need to buy anything from the store.” Kevin ran ahead of her, changing the subject. “Come on, before the stores close,” he cajoled, even though he knew most of the stores in the resort town were open for twenty-four hours. Kevin turned to see her looking at him strangely, as if trying to figure something out.

  Ashlyn placed her hands on her hips. “Why don’t you have to buy clothes, and where are we staying? It’s hard to get a hotel room at the beach this late in the season.”

  “I’ll tell you everything when we get off the ferry, before it’s too late. We’re the last people on the ship—everyone else plans on staying.”

  Ashlyn stood in the same spot. “I’m not leaving until you’ve answered my questions.”

  Kevin walked back to her, wrapping his arms around her waist, charmingly smiling down at her. “You have to promise not to get mad because none of this was planned.”

  “Just spill it, Kevin. And I’m not making any promises.”

  “I already have clothes here because I own a summer home in Ocean City, Maryland, which is less than an hour ride south of here.

  “I should say my father owns a place here. I bought a condo for him when I was twenty-one; he likes to fish.” He swept her hands gently to her sides, thinking that at any moment she would strike him.