Work of Art

by Monica Alexander

  I wondered how long I’d get angry every time I thought about what I’d lost, what I’d missed out on, and what I could never get back. I couldn’t imagine the feeling ever leaving me.

  Next to me, Harper dropped to her knees in front of the headstone and placed the flowers at the base.

  “Hi sweetie, it’s Mommy,” she said softly, and her words squeezed my heart. “I know it’s been a few weeks since I visited, but there’s been so much happening that I want to tell you about. And I brought someone with me this time. And no, it’s not Grandpa, but he’s doing well and sends his love. He’s working on a new car that I’m sure you would think was just the coolest, and I have no idea what he’s doing to fix it, but he’s happy. I actually brought someone who wanted to meet you so much when you were here, but he never got the chance.”

  Harper tugged on my hand, so I dropped to my knees next to her, the tears welling in the backs of my eyes as I listened to her talk to our son.

  “Ty,” she continued. “This is your daddy.”

  Her voice broke when she said ‘daddy’, and she had to stop for a few seconds to collect herself. I squeezed her hand, and she took a deep breath.

  “A few weeks ago,” she said, her voice sounding so much stronger. “He walked into the parlor and surprised me. I hadn’t seen him in eleven years. Can you believe it? And then one night I told him all about you and how special you were and how much I loved you.” She started crying then. “And I want you to know that I’m not going to be alone anymore, because he loves me so much, and I love him.”

  She started to lose it, so I pulled her into my arms where she started sobbing, and it was all I could do to just try and comfort her as best I could.

  “Hey Tyler,” I said after a few minutes of listening to Harper’s soft sobs. She couldn’t talk, so I’d do it for her, and just saying Tyler’s name out loud made me feel better. “I’m Ryan, I mean, I’m your daddy, and I just wanted you to know that I love you.”

  I felt Harper pull away and look up in surprise.

  I looked down at her and asked, “Is this okay?”

  She nodded, fresh tears shining in her eyes. “Yes. Do you want some time alone?”

  I shook my head and held onto her, needing her there with me as I did one of the hardest things I’d done in my life.

  “I wish we could have spent time together when you were here, but your mommy told me so many wonderful stories about how you used to paint with her, and you gave really good hugs, and you were such a good little boy. I know she did a good job being the best mommy for you, and I’m sorry I never visited you, but I didn’t know about you, and if I had, I would have been right there with you when you were growing up and when you were sick and when you were scared. I would have been right there with you.”

  Harper pressed her lips to my collarbone, and whispered, “Thank you.”

  I settled down onto the ground and pulled Harper between my knees, so her back was resting against my chest. I had a lot of things to tell my son, so I wanted to get comfortable.

  “So, here are some things you should know about me. I’m twenty-nine, and I met your mom when we were just sixteen. I thought she was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen, and I still think that.” Harper looked back at me and smiled, so I kissed her. “Sorry if the kissing bugs you, but she just told me yesterday that she loves, me so I’m kind of floating on air right now. Anyway, I’m a huge Red Sox fan, and that’s something I would have passed on to you, because the Red Sox are awesome. I’m originally from Boston, but I don’t have one of those funny accents. I love chicken wings and Dr. Pepper and Doritos, but only the original nacho cheese flavor.”

  “Your daddy likes the same things you used to like,” Harper joked, and I squeezed her tighter.

  “And your mommy is the most special woman on the planet, and you should be so proud that you knew her. I know I’m so much better off because of her. I know she probably never told you about me, but I’ll tell you the story of how we met and how I fell in love with her, because it’s a really good story.”

  I started talking, holding Harper against me, as I shared the story of the first time I’d laid eyes on her. I’d never actually told her that I’d been crushing on her for a year before I asked her out, because she intimidated the crap out of me, and I’d been so shocked when she’d said yes. But I told Tyler about how I’d watched her from afar for weeks, wondering what she was thinking as she drew in her sketchpad at lunch. I almost approached her several times, but I kept chickening out, and then I finally got up the nerve to talk to her and she almost rejected me. But then she’d let me in, and she’d never let me go.

  “How come you never told me that story?” she asked.

  I squeezed her tighter. “Because I was a proud sixteen year-old kid, and I was embarrassed that I’d been stalking you for so long. I didn’t need you to think I was crazy.”

  She laughed. “You weren’t stalking me, and I wouldn’t have thought you were crazy. I would have thought you were adorable.”

  “No, you would have thought I was nuts. You weren’t so forgiving back then.”

  She laughed again. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

  I kissed her neck. “It’s why I told you I loved you after two weeks. You didn’t know it, but I’d fallen in love with you long before.”

  She turned to look at me. “But you never talked to me. We did that history project together, and you didn’t say two words to me for the next year.”

  I laughed. “Yeah, I know. I told you, you were intimidating. You were smart and beautiful and sweet, and I got tongue-tied anytime I even thought about talking to you, so I just avoided you.”

  “What gave you the courage to finally ask me out?”

  “Oh, I really don’t want to tell you this,” I groaned, remembering that day all too well.

  “Well, now you’d better tell me,” she threatened.

  I sighed. “None of my friends knew how I felt, and they were assholes, so they bet me I wouldn’t go over and ask you out. They told me to do it, and then not pick you up for our date.”

  She gasped out loud. “I knew it. I knew they put you up to it.”

  “Yeah, they did, but what they didn’t know is that I had no intentions of ditching you. I was so thrilled that you said yes, that there was no way in hell I wasn’t taking you out and kissing you at the end of the date.”

  “That was a great kiss,” she mused.

  “Yeah, I know. Kissing has always been a gift of mine.”

  She smacked my shin with her hand. “Don’t be a jerk.”

  “Hey, you like my kisses, and now you can have them whenever you want.”

  She settled back against my chest again. “Yeah, that is pretty good. I think I’ll keep you around.”

  “You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”

  “I wouldn’t dare.”

  At that, Harper and I sat in each other’s arms and listened to the birds chirping nearby and the sounds of the city all around us, reminding us that we weren’t as isolated as we thought we were.

  Sometime later, she let out a big sigh and turned to me. “You ready to go?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

  “Ty, we’re going to head out, but we’ll be back,” she said then.

  “It was good talking to you, buddy. I’ll take good care of your mom, okay?” I turned to Harper. “It should feel weird that I’m talking to thin air, but it’s really not.”

  She took my hand as we started to walk out of the cemetery. “I like to think that he’s up in heaven listening. It makes the whole talking to someone who’s not here not so odd.”

  We climbed into her Shelby to drive back across the city.

  “So what do we do now?” she asked me expectantly, looking over as she expertly navigated the hills I was still getting used to after almost a year.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Ryan, we’re together. This is huge. What do we do?”

 
I grinned at her enthusiasm. “We live our lives, together, like we should have been doing for the past decade.”

  She grinned. “I like that idea.”

  Epilogue

  Harper

  For the next few months, I lived and breathed Ryan Carson, and the air was so sweet when I actually got a taste of it, but Ryan and I soon learned that we kept very different schedules. After spending our first weekend together, we finally emerged when I needed to physically go back to work. I’d planned to take time off over Labor Day weekend anyway, and it just so happened to coincide with our reunion, but come Tuesday, I had to go back to the shop. Plus I was still working on my photo series on love for my show in November that was rapidly approaching.

  Ryan was teaching, so he spent his days at the junior college working on lesson plans for his two classes, holding office hours and learning as much as he could about the material. He had classes from ten to eleven on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, and on Tuesdays and Thursdays, he didn’t go in until later in the day, so I always claimed him for my own in the mornings, because I was at the shop until late most nights.

  But he was always in my bed waiting for me when I got home, which I freaking loved. When his lease ended in September, he’d actually moved in with Brandon into a three bedroom apartment two floors below mine which was ridiculously convenient. I was a little shocked that either of them would want a roommate after living on their own for so many years, but it wasn’t like Ryan spent much time at his place. He practically lived at mine.

  Truthfully, I think we both wanted to move in together, but after his two failed relationships and my overall skittishness about relationships in general, we’d avoided the subject. But things were good, and we were happy, so talks of next steps could be avoided. We were honestly having a great time just getting to know each other again, and before long it felt like he’d always been a fixture in my life.

  Especially when he’d re-inserted himself into it so nicely, never once complaining about the time I spent on my art or at the shop. But I knew I owed him some time, and we were actually planning to take a mini-vacation the day after my photography show opened.

  The night before my show, Ryan sauntered into the shop with a bag from the deli across the street. Somehow he knew I hadn’t taken a break to eat, and as usual, he knew exactly what I was craving. I’d just finished piercing a girl’s nose and was cleaning up when he plopped himself down in my chair and pulled me onto his lap.

  “Hey,” I said, right before his lips lowered over mine and captured them for a few long seconds.

  Ryan had promised me that he wouldn’t get tired of kissing me, and he had yet to show any signs that that promise wasn’t true. He kissed me every chance he got, and I loved it.

  “Whoo-hoo, boss,” Paulie cheered from where he was finishing up a tattoo of a cluster of daisies on a girl’s ankle.

  “Those two need a room,” Krysta commented without looking up from where she was giving a guy spider bites. She’d done the first one, and his eyes were already watering. It rarely failed that facial piercings enlisted tears from most recipients.

  “Can I steal Harper away?” Ryan asked, finally letting me come up for air.

  “No,” I said quickly, having assessed the waiting room just a few minutes earlier. It was a Friday night, and we were slammed.

  “Yes,” Paulie and Krysta said in unison.

  “We’re fine,” Clark, one of my other artists, who usually didn’t say much, chimed in.

  “You guys, I can’t leave,” I insisted. There were six people waiting in the waiting room.

  “Harper, it’s ten o’clock. You’ve been here since opening. Go home with your man,” Krysta insisted. “We’ve seriously got this.”

  I sighed, and my resolve to stay and help faded even further when Ryan gave me puppy dog eyes.

  “Oh, come on,” I said, pushing off of his lap.

  “Boss, you’ve got your show tomorrow night. Go home and get some rest,” Paulie insisted.

  “Fine,” I grumbled, realizing how exhausted I really was.

  I’d been working too much, and I probably needed to hire another artist, but I didn’t want to shut myself out completely. I loved tattooing.

  “Thanks guys,” Ryan said, as he lifted himself from the chair and reached for my hand.

  I’d had him in that chair once before a few weeks after we started dating when he finally let me give him a tattoo on his shoulder. I’d modified my Tyler tattoo for him by taking out the rosary and making it more masculine with a tribal design around the dates. That way our tattoos were similar, but they were also unique. He kept hinting that he might want me to do another one for him, but I was hesitating. I liked him clean cut.

  “I have to finish cleaning up,” I insisted, and I felt a push from behind. I turned around to see Krysta grinning at me.

  “I’ll take care of it. I’m almost done here.”

  “You sure?”

  “Go!” she said again, and Ryan yanked my hand to pull me forward. “Good luck with your show!”

  “Thank you!” I called over my shoulder as Ryan drug me outside.

  As soon as the door to the shop closed behind me, he yanked me forward, and I fell against his chest. He looked down at me and smiled before he lowered his lips to mine, kissing me gently.

  “I’ve missed you,” he said tenderly when he pulled back, and I looked up at him and smiled as my whole body started to relax.

  I’d been working around the clock to finish everything for my show, so we hadn’t seen each other a lot over the past week. But I was done, and apparently the shop was covered, so maybe I could spent a night just being with Ryan and enjoying the fact that he was mine.

  “I missed you too. Sorry things have been so crazy lately. I promise I’ll be more available from now on.”

  He smiled and brushed a stray lock of hair off my cheek. Then he kissed the space where his fingers had grazed.

  “I’m proud of you,” he said softly. “And you’re so talented. If that means you have to pull yourself away from me from time to time, I get it, and I support it.”

  “I love you,” I said then, so grateful for his understanding that I was practically gushing.

  He raised an eyebrow. “Do you love me enough to show me your pieces before tomorrow night?”

  My mouth dropped open, and I smacked his chest. “Not that much.”

  His mouth dropped open to mimic mine in mock offense. I’d been keeping the photographs for my show a secret, not sure how Ryan would react, and I sort of wanted the element of surprise.

  “Besides, everything’s already at the gallery, so I can’t show you.”

  He gave me a cocky grin. “I know for a fact that you have your whole show scanned into your computer. You could show me – if you really loved me.”

  I sighed. “You might not like it.”

  He let his arms drop to my waist and pulled me closer. “Then don’t you think I should see it in private instead of with the masses tomorrow night.”

  My eyes went wide. “I never thought of that! Oh shit! What if you hate it?”

  He rolled his eyes. “I won’t hate it. I’ve never hated anything you’ve ever done.”

  I took a deep breath. “You might hate this.”

  He shook his head. “I won’t. Will you show me?”

  I let my breath out and realized it was shaky.

  “Okay, fine, but can I eat first? I’m starving.”

  “Anything for you, babe,” he said, kissing me once before handing me the bag from the deli.

  Then he took my hand and we walked into our building together. He didn’t even bother stopping on his floor since we both knew he’d spend the night at my place. He even used the key I’d given him to let us in, and I wondered how much longer we’d keep up the charade that we didn’t live together.

  I grabbed my laptop from the coffee table, shoved in the jump drive that had the pictures for my show saved on it, took a deep breath and b
rought up the pictures that I knew Ryan wouldn’t have an emotional connection to. They were the first part of the show that focused on love from the outside looking in. It was of couples in various stages of love and what the world saw when they looked at them. I’d taken pictures of couples and what they were doing when they thought no one was looking. It had turned out to be a really sweet series.

  Then I’d decided to go one step further and put myself out on a limb. That was what I was most nervous for Ryan to see. It was about the journey love took. It was much more raw and personal, and I wasn’t sure if Ryan would love it like I hoped or be mad at me for showcasing something so personal.

  As he scrolled through the pictures, I picked up the sub he’d gotten me and started eating.

  “Babe, these are great,” he said, pausing every so often to admire my work.

  When he finished the first set and moved onto the second, my heart rate stared to increase. And I found myself second-guessing why I’d ever thought this was a good idea. And when he came to the last few shots before the finale, my stomach was churning so bad I had to set my sandwich down.

  He clicked forward, and it was almost as if it was in slow motion. I watched his finger depress the mouse button, watched the screen change and the black and white photo appear, and then I moved my eyes from the computer screen to his face. He looked confused at first, and then recognition started to dawn on his face.

  The first shot was of him at our high school graduation. He was wearing his cap and gown along with aviator sunglasses and blowing me a kiss as I hid behind my camera. The next picture was a crude self-portrait of us that we’d taken just weeks before we’d broken up. We were grinning and holding up brochures for Yale. And then there was one of me that I’d taken when I was seven months pregnant and had stood in front of the mirror. The pictures then followed the story of when Tyler was born, the three years of his life, and even the last few weeks, including one of his headstone. I watched Ryan’s face the whole time as he clicked slowly through the pictures, his face expressionless.