The Romance Novel Cure

by Ceves, Nina

  “I’m so impressed, you’re really talented. I love the colors you choose.” He peered a little closer, looking at a website of an art gallery.

  “I love colors, if it’s not obvious.” She smiled, gesturing to her clothes. She was wearing a bright, coral colored dress and turquoise beads. He glanced quickly down her legs (bare, tan) and saw she was wearing little blue boot-like shoes with some sort of molded heels. Whatever they were, they were both hot and adorable. She probably thought he was being gross staring at her legs. He quickly lifted his eyes.

  “Colors,” he blurted, not knowing what he was going to say, feeling hot. “You could help me plan what tattoos to get next. I mean, I don’t have plans to get them done anytime soon.” Rent, groceries, gas, preschool, health insurance, he thought. “But, these seem unfinished to me.” He shrugged, holding his arms out.

  * * *

  Alma swallowed, glad the two of them were alone. Scott had made Laura and Ben go with him to a furniture outlet, saying he needed help with a project, a new client who wanted help with home design. She would have felt so self-conscious if they had been here, knowing they would have been listening, and that they would be pretending they were not. She leaned forward, looking at his arms. Tilting her head, she got lost in the images of the tree roots and branches.

  “May I?” She reached out, looking up at him.

  He moved closer, resting his arms on her desk.

  She turned his arm slightly, following the line of roots, branches and leaves, then did the same for his next arm. Her eyes wandered up to where his short sleeve broke the line.

  “Is there any more?” She asked, looking at him. She blinked. She hadn’t realized their faces would be so close.

  He opened his mouth slightly, started to speak, then cleared his throat. “Just a little, maybe that you can’t see, without…”

  She gently pushed his sleeve up higher, seeing how the leaves got smaller and smaller. She did the same on the other arm. “Gorgeous.”

  “They just stop. I feel like at some point, I need to get them completed.” His voice sounded lower and even rougher, but so sweet to her. She would have known his voice anywhere.

  She nodded, smiling gently. “It’s like a story that just hasn’t ended yet. And visually, it’s as though there’s this space here, and here.” She gently pushed his sleeves higher again, touching his shoulders. “Where the lines and images need to continue, to make it complete.”

  He seemed to shiver.

  “I’m sorry, I’m probably tickling you!” She pulled his sleeves down and took her hands off him, laughing self -consciously.

  “Nope.” He shook his head, looking down. After a moment, he spoke again. “Do you have any ideas, what would look right? My buddy Luis, he’s really talented. Always drawing, could draw anything, even when he was a little kid. He got training to be a tattoo artist, gave me a major discount when he started out. I didn’t even know exactly what I wanted, just told him about these trees I really liked, described them. He moved to Las Vegas a while ago, and well.” He shrugged, crossing his arms.

  She nodded, watching his eyes as he spoke. “It seems like a very personal decision, but that being said, I can’t help but come up with ideas already. I’d be happy to sketch some things out for you, and if they give you any inspiration for whenever you do get your tattoos completed, I’m happy to have helped.”

  He nodded, his eyes locked on hers. Then he grinned. “Heck, you already started painting on me, why not just draw directly on me?”

  “What?” Alma laughed, covering her mouth.

  “You’ve got all those pens and markers.” He held out his arm. “Just go for it.”

  “Seriously?” She couldn’t stop laughing.

  He held his right arm out, raising his eyebrows.

  Grinning, Alma opened her desk and peered inside. “Okay, at least these are washable.” She held a fine tipped black marker out, and hesitated. Daniel hooked his foot around the base of her chair, which had wheels, and pulled her close, so that she was right next to him. Pursing her lips so as not to laugh, she took his arm and angled it over her lap, looking down to hide the blush she knew was suddenly coloring her face. She pushed his sleeve all the way up, folding it so that it would stay anchored and out of the way. She could smell the fresh, warm, clean smell of his shirt and beneath that, a kind of salty deliciousness. Feeling him shiver slightly, she looked up into his eyes. His expression was intent, amusement and heat in his eyes. She blinked and uncapped her pen, smiling, hoping her hand would not shake.

  “So, I just had this idea,” she said softly, placing the tip of the pen against his skin. “What if the leaves, see how they change? What if they could become birds, like this, and this?” She leaned closer to his skin, drawing swallows. “She how they make a pattern? I could make them become stars, up here, and then… then there’d be this kind of full circle. How it all starts, with seeds, below the roots? Seeds to stars, something about the shapes… Down here at your wrist… how it’s all connected.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “And how everything has stardust in it, we all do. I learned that in a science class.”

  Once she started to draw, she became lost and time seemed to stop. It’s what always happened. She blinked and straightened a little, looking down at what she had drawn. She loved it. She had had a vague idea when she started, but once she got the pen in her hand, inspiration took over. But, did he like it? Maybe he thought birds were somehow feminine, not the look he wanted? “Just an idea.” She began to feel shy that she was sitting in such close proximity to him.

  “Just an idea? Alma, it’s perfect. You’re… you’re amazing.”

  She looked up into his eyes and smiled. His gaze was frank, admiring, and somehow moved. “Thanks, I’m… I’m glad you like it. Do you want me to add some color? Just for future reference?”

  He nodded, not looking away from her. She kept one hand on his arm, and turned back to her desk, selecting a red marker. She turned back, her glance snagging on his leg, parallel to hers. She dragged her eyes back to his arm, but on the way, she couldn’t help but look at his chest. It was on the way, after all, she thought to herself. He looked strong, as though he worked using his body. His construction boots were worn and dusty, she could see. “Since we’ve already seen that I’m not to be trusted around the color red and your arm, thank you for giving me another chance.” She bit her lip, glancing up at him. His blue or gray eyes were so full of laughter and more, some mischief and heat. “I think it would look perfect to have some red here, and here, and here… to kind of continue that color from where it started, here.” His skin smelled so good. The further up his arm she touched, the softer his skin was. She had an image of her hand pushing all the way up his sleeve so that she could touch his chest. She rolled her eyes at herself inwardly. Oh, what next? Asking him to take off his shirt, encouraging him to let you draw all over him? She capped the marker, and sat back a little, looking back up at him, shrugging. “That’s it, I guess. Do you want anything else? I can take a picture of this with your phone, if you want to save it?” She looked up at him expectantly.

  * * *

  Daniel leaned forward. “Just one more thing. Would you possibly be interested in letting me take you out to dinner some night?” His heart was hammering in his chest, his mouth was dry, his eyes locked on hers. He was half crazed with wanting her sweet hands on him again. He would never look at pens and markers the same way, ever again.

  Alma seemed to draw herself up and she tensed, looking off to the side. Then she looked up into his face, her expression full of flustered pleasure and fear. “Okay,” she whispered.

  “Yeah?” For some reason, he found he was whispering, too.

  “Yeah.” She looked down, her cheeks reddening.

  His new favorite color, forever. Red.

  She uncapped the marker slowly, took his wrist and pulled his arm closer. His breath hitched in his throat. Glancing at him once, her eyes filled with laughter,
her mouth pursed, she looked down at the underside of his forearm as she wrote seven digits slowly and carefully in the red ink. Capping the pen, she released his wrist. He waited, but she looked down, allowing her hair to swing forward and hide her face. His hand felt like it was burning, he wanted to touch her thick, chin-length hair so much. He wanted to push it back, anchor it behind her ear, and see her flushed face, see that shy smile again. See if laughter and more hid in her eyes. When she didn’t look up, he pulled his arm back.

  “Alma.” He waited. He saw her take a quick breath and then she looked up at him. He had been feeling such an edgy kind of excitement, but when she looked up, something shifted. There was an uncertainty, a vulnerability in her expression. It made him want to make everything okay. To take care of her. It was a simultaneously new and familiar feeling, which was confusing. “I’ll call you, okay? If you still want to go out with me, great. No… no pressure. Just. Thanks. For everything today. I mean it.”

  He saw her swallow, saw her eye lashes flutter down, hiding her eyes. But then, oh, then. She looked up again and she smiled, really big this time. And all he could do was smile back. He was a mess after working all day, he hadn’t slept much in nearly a year, he worried about money every day, but right in that moment, with his arm full of drawings of trees and seeds and birds and stars and colors and numbers, his eyes full of Alma’s smile, all he could do was feel happy.

  Chapter Seven

  Leaving was completely awkward, but he tried to be cool and not fall on his face. Alma walked him to the door. She seemed to be having a hard time looking at him again, so he kept quiet and just thanked her again.

  Once in his car, he entered her number in his phone. He took a photograph of his arm, marveling again at the drawing she had done. He saved the photograph and also made it Alma’s picture connected with her number. Driving to Elijah’s preschool, he wondered how people who were single parents actually dated. Pondering this, he walked into the preschool.

  “Everything okay?” Greta was at the front desk, hanging up the phone.

  “Well, actually, I have a question.” He stopped in front of her.

  “Is Elijah okay?” Worriedly, she stood up.

  “Yeah, he’s great.” Daniel smiled. “No, it’s just, I wondered if any of the teachers here or the helpers do any babysitting. Like, on a weekend evening. I don’t have a babysitter for Elijah.”

  “Yes, two of the assistants who are just part time also do baby sitting. They’re not licensed or anything, they aren’t affiliated with the preschool in any way when they do babysitting, you know? Elsa and Maggie, they’re both great with children. Do you want their numbers?” Greta looked really happy for some reason.

  “Thanks, yeah, that would be great.” He shifted from foot to foot. “Have both of them worked with Elijah before? You would trust them? Obviously, you would. I’m sorry.”

  Greta nodded, understanding in her eyes. “Yes, they’ve both helped out in the baby classroom. And, I understand. You’re a good dad.” She wrote down the names and numbers of the two assistants and handed the sheet of paper to him.

  More numbers, thought Daniel, as he thanked her.

  He looked into the window on the door of the classroom, and saw Elijah holding two rattles, one in each hand. He crawled slowly from the carpeted area to the section that had vinyl flooring, then back again. Daniel opened the door. Elijah looked up and beamed. Another thing Daniel would never, ever get used to: how Elijah’s face broke into the most joyful, happy smile when Daniel picked him up at the end of the day. Everything else faded as he crouched down to see his son. Elijah transitioned into sitting, still carefully holding the two rattles.

  He held them up to Daniel. “Da.”

  “You got rattles, buddy? Yeah!” Daniel grinned.

  “He has invented a new game,” said Maria, setting down a baby whose diaper she had just changed. “He holds the rattles and crawls on the carpet. He hears a quiet sound. He crawls on the harder floor there and he hears: tac, tac, tac! A louder sound. Again and again.” She nodded proudly.

  Daniel was amazed, gazing at Elijah. His little guy was learning so much, every day, figuring out all kinds of things about the world. Elijah dropped one of the rattles. Then he passed the one that he was still holding from one hand to another and back again. “Ah. Da!” He beamed at Daniel.

  “Wow, look at you, Mr. Man. Rattle going back and forth like that? Cool, Elijah, way cool.”

  He placed his hands on Elijah’s small but sturdy torso and gently lifted him under his arms, pulling him close. He kissed his son’s cheek and felt that feeling he so often got since becoming a dad. It centered in his chest, but took over everything. It was the feeling that he wanted to protect Elijah from everything, always. Keep him safe. Make everything okay. As he stood up to grab the diaper bag, holding Elijah against his chest, he was distracted by a realization. Just a little while ago, he had felt an almost similar sensation. When Alma hadn’t seemed to be able to look back up at him, after she wrote her number down. When she had let her hair obscure her face, and he had wanted to tuck her hair behind her ears. He had wanted to lean forward, look in her eyes, check with her. He had wanted to make everything okay. He had felt protective of her. Protectiveness. He usually only felt that for Elijah. While he thanked Maria, and helped Elijah wave bye to her and the two other babies there, he felt distracted by that sudden insight, not knowing what to make of it.

  * * *

  Scott, Ben, and Laura entered Graphite. Laura and Scott looked at Alma. She tried to keep a very casual expression on her face.

  “Hi, guys,” she said. “How did everything go?”

  “I learned I have absolutely no skills upon which to draw when it comes to interior design,” said Ben, rubbing his face. “Anyone want some tea? I’m going to make a whole pot.”

  “Yes, please,” said Laura. “You want some, too, right Scott? Right Alma?” She turned toward then and nodded, frowning.

  “Uh, yes? Please. We all want some of your delicious and soothing green tea,” said Scott slowly, shaking his head at Laura and raising his eyebrows.

  After Laura made sure Ben was all the way in the break room kitchen area, the door closed behind him, she turned back to Scott and Alma. “If he makes a big pot of tea it will take him longer, so we can grill Alma mercilessly.”

  “Grilling commences immediately. Alma, tell us everything.” Scott pulled two chairs over to Alma’s desk.

  “I drew all over his arm and he asked me out on a date and I said yes.” Alma clamped her hand over her mouth.

  “Wait, what? What?” Scott sat bolt upright.

  “Seriously? Seriously?” Laura whispered, leaning forward, her eyes full of delight.

  “Wait, what?” Scott blinked rapidly. “Tell it from the beginning. From the beginning!”

  “He didn’t know what kind of graphic design session he wanted. I think he has some sort of manual labor job, I don’t know, I didn’t ask. But he didn’t need anything like a website designed, or business cards.”

  Laura and Scott nodded breathlessly.

  “So,” Alma continued. “I showed him a slide show of some of my recent work, so he could get an idea of what I do. And somehow we talked about colors and how I had got paint on him, at the mural painting day, yes, it was the same guy.”

  Laura and Scott clutched one another.

  “The scratchy voiced tiger guy?” Scott said faintly, closing his eyes.

  “It was a lion, right Alma? The happy lion voiced guy?” Laura nodded.

  “A friendly lion, he sounds like a friendly lion,” said Alma, trying not to laugh.

  “Go on, go on,” said Scott.

  “Okay, so I said, wait, back up. He said he wanted to get his tattoos completed one day.”

  “Wait, what? Tattoos?” Scott looked very interested.

  “Full sleeves, both arms.” Alma felt her cheeks flushing.

  “Really?” Laura bit her lip, then grinned at Alma.


  “So, yes, anyway,” said Alma quickly. “He said he didn’t have plans to finish them any time soon but wondered if I had any ideas how they could be finished. I said I could make a sketch for him.”

  Scott and Laura nodded, looking as though they hadn’t exhaled in a while.

  “Then he said… he said… I should draw it right on his arm. And he held his arm out. So I did! And then he asked me for my number, well, I mean, he asked me out for dinner, for a date, and I took the pen and wrote my number on his arm, where there was a little room for it.”

  Laura’s and Scott’s mouths fell open slowly.

  Scott closed his eyes. “Tell me that story again. From the beginning. Start it again. Once upon a time there was a lion… A lion with hot tattoos and a blue collar job…”

  Alma laughed and covered her face. “Maybe he’ll call me, I don’t know. I couldn’t believe it.”

  “Was he really flirting with you, the whole time?” Laura asked.

  “No,” answered Alma, slowly. “Not really. But in his eyes, I don’t know. It kind of seemed like he was.”

  Scott nodded, sighing. Laura grinned.

  Ben came out of the break room with cups on a tray, and handed everyone a cup of tea. “What am I missing? You all have this air of suppressed mirth. Glee, even.”

  “Just over stimulated from the shopping expedition. Thanks for the tea, Ben, this will ground me,” said Scott. “I know I need an energy balancing session. And I feel really off not having our yoga time all together.” He walked with Ben over to Ben’s desk and began asking him about a project.

  Every lunch break, the designers at Graphite ate together and did yoga in a small conference room that had been made over to be a meditation and yoga practice place. Scott believed it helped them all bond and manage stress.

  Laura patted Alma’s back and went to her desk.

  Alma turned to her computer and tried to focus on getting some work done. As she read what she had written, though, she couldn’t help but remember something. When she had said good-bye to Daniel, at the door, she hadn’t needed to look up very much. He was much taller than she, nearly everyone was, but just compared to Ben, who was quite tall, she didn’t have to crane her neck back to meet Daniel’s eyes. She noticed that she liked that. She liked that very much. It somehow made him seem… closer. More in focus. She blinked and tried to concentrate on her project. One other thing, though. Whenever she met Ben’s eyes, she saw so much affection and respect. She had always loved that, how kind his eyes always were. Since she had developed the crush, it had been hard to meet his eyes, but whenever she did, there it was, that steady friendship, right in his eyes. It had been hard to meet Daniel’s eyes. She had felt shy. But whenever she had, she had seen such a spark there. A spark of regard, curiosity, appreciation, awareness, interest. She didn’t know what to call it, but it was there, a spark. Heat. Attraction. She liked seeing that spark. She liked it a lot.