Soul Unique

by Gun Brooke

  “There.”

  “You’re good with sharp objects, obviously.” I admit I was curious.

  “Thanks to Nana, I can do basic things in the kitchen, but she never lets me cook alone. Not after the time when I lost track of time while I was waiting for the sauce to get ready. I started sketching on napkins and forgot about the food on the stove. The smoke set off the smoke detector, and the firemen came. They said I could’ve burned down the entire kitchen.”

  “Oh, my. So, would you say that was a fair assessment of your grandmother—not allowing you to be in charge alone in the kitchen?” I thought so, but wanted to hear what Hayden’s take was.

  “Yes. I get to assist, but you’re responsible.” Suddenly looking concerned, Hayden straightened. “Does that work for you?”

  “Yes, it does. This way we can cook together, but I know my kitchen won’t one day be just a fond memory.”

  “Why would it be—oh. Oh!” Smiling now, Hayden tilted her head. “You’re joking.”

  “Just teasing you a bit.” I watched the vegetables and judged it was time for the mushrooms. After adding some spices and stir-fry sauce, I pulled the wok aside to wait for the rice and the salmon to get ready. “Want to eat in the breakfast nook?”

  “If it’s all right to have other meals than just breakfast there, yes, sure.”

  “Of course it’s okay, why wouldn’t it—” I stopped talking as Hayden slapped a hand over her mouth, but not before I spotted her broad smile. “Ah, come on, you’re pulling my leg.”

  “I don’t. I haven’t touched your leg. I haven’t even been near it.” Hayden gazed at my legs, looking like she contemplated what pulling one of them might accomplish.

  “Just a silly saying that means you’re joking.”

  “Exactly. That’s what I said.”

  I filled two plates for us and carried them to the table. “Silly me.” Chuckling, I turned and pointed at the top drawer behind Hayden. “Knives and forks there. You’ll find glasses in the cabinet above. What do you want to drink?”

  “Mineral water.”

  So she really liked mineral water. Good to know. I made a mental note to stock up on some tomorrow, as I had only a few bottles left. When we sat down to eat, I noticed the perfect placement of the utensils and the glasses, before I looked up and my eyes met Hayden’s. She took my breath away. The soft light from the lamps cast highlights in her dark hair, and her long, thick lashes played with shadows in her eyes. My heart contracted painfully, and I gestured at the food while trying to sound casual.

  “Please,” I said, close to gasping for air, “dig in.”

  Hayden ate as if she hadn’t seen food since yesterday. Our dinner tasted fine, but it could’ve been from McDonald’s for all I cared. I couldn’t take my eyes off Hayden, and only when I was in danger of stabbing my fork through my hand instead of the salmon did I glance at my plate.

  When Hayden finished her meal, she looked at me with a worried frown marring her forehead. “We have to discuss the financial agreement.”

  “What?” I blinked and was brought back from my dazed frame of mind with a thud. “What financial agreement?”

  “I can’t live here for free. You’ll have extra expenses because I’m here. I need to know how much so I can transfer money to you online.”

  That was directness for you. I didn’t know whether to be slightly offended or admire her way of bringing things up head-on. “I hadn’t even thought that far.” The only thing important to me was to arrange for a safe and inspiring environment for Hayden. A very tiny, insistent voice in the back of my mind suggested that it wasn’t exactly painful to rest my eyes on this wondrous woman either.

  “I’m not a charity case.” Hayden’s eyes darkened further with each passing second.

  I agreed quickly. “Not in a million years.”

  “I have a trust fund set up by my paternal grandfather when I was born. It became mine to do with as I please when I turned twenty-one. I paid rent at the school.”

  “You—you what? You paid rent for the gym hall?” This was yet another strike against Leyla. “What, pray tell, was it used for before you rented it?”

  “Nothing. Some storage.” Looking uncomfortable, Hayden seemed to pick up on my anger. As it wasn’t directed at her, I reeled it in and focused on what she was saying.

  “All right. You want to pay your way, which is totally fine with me, but I can’t charge you rent as I have no mortgage on this house. It was paid in full long before I inherited it. You can pay a smaller portion of the electricity and gas if you like.”

  “Good.”

  “And I assume I don’t have to worry about keeping you in paint and canvases?” I winked at her, trying to lighten the mood. My jaws tightened and signaled I was heading for full-blown spasticity. I massaged them with my fingertips.

  “No.” Hayden tilted her head, regarding the actions of my fingers. “Are you in pain?”

  “Just a bit tight. Happens sometimes.” I waved my fingers dismissively. Jittery, all of a sudden, I stood and began clearing the table. After filling the dishwasher, I found Hayden had wiped all the surfaces and washed the wok. She’d been well brought up by her grandmother, I guessed. “I have some calls to make and papers to read,” I said, reluctant to leave her.

  “I’ll unpack my things.” Hayden started walking upstairs.

  I stood at the foot of the stairs until her lithe form was out of sight. Heading for my study, I closed the door behind me, as I had to call India and didn’t want Hayden to overhear accidentally.

  India picked up on the second ring. “Where did you run off to? You looked about to commit murder or something.”

  “You have to ask?” I sat down and kept massaging the left side of my jaw.

  “Oh, God. Leyla Rowe.”

  “The very same. She found out Hayden’s plans and cornered her. It was ugly.”

  “What plans?” India asked, sounding cautious.

  “She’s moved out of the school.”

  “She has? Oh, that’s brilliant! She really shouldn’t stay at that monstrosity of a building—wait. Wait. Greer, you didn’t? She’s staying with you, isn’t she?” India raised her voice. “Erica! Erica, I have Greer on the phone and you have to hear this.”

  Groaning, I knew I was done for. If India was a force of nature, Erica Kramer was a category-five hurricane. She was soft-spoken until someone got her ire up, which usually happened if anyone came on to her girlfriend or insulted any of her friends. Right now, I wasn’t sure how Erica would react to my news.

  “What’s up? Why are you yelling?” I heard Erica say in the background.

  “You’re on speakerphone, Greer. Honey, this girl I told you about, Hayden? She’s moved in with Greer.”

  “Really?” Erica sounded surprised but not upset. Good.

  “Let me clarify that,” I said, slumping into my leather desk chair. “She’s going to stay here, yes, but we’re not living together. I mean, like a couple. Just so you know.”

  “I’ve seen the way you look at her and listened to how you talk about her. It’s a whole new you,” India was insisting, and I could easily picture how she gestured to emphasize her words, completely mindless of the fact I couldn’t see her.

  “Regardless of how I look at any given time, the fact is, Hayden is staying here to be able to live in a decent place and work without having to fear being locked up by a crazed mother.”

  “Locked up?”

  Damn. I’d forgotten I never told India about that. It had seemed so private, but if she was to understand why Hayden was moving out of the school and living here with me, I had to tell her. My voice tight, I explained what had happened after the first time I met Hayden. The short, stunned silence from the other end told me what I wanted to know.

  “And she has nobody else, does she?” Erica asked.

  “She has a brother who seems great, but his circumstances don’t seem to allow for a painting sister who requires space to work and who�
�s wary of the dark when she’s on the ground level. Here, her room is on the second floor and the studio is on the rooftop.”

  “Oh, right. I rarely think of that part of your house. I mean, I’ve seen it as a greenhouse, really.” India sounded calmer. “I’m still worried though, Greer. Hayden is all taken care of, it seems, but what about you?”

  “What do you mean, what about me?” I frowned at the phone, an expression that was just as ineffective as her imagined gesturing.

  “You care for her. And by that I mean you care-care for her. This woman could break your heart, Greer.”

  “And here you’ve been trying to set me up with every single gay woman in Boston for the last fifteen years. There’s no pleasing you, is there, India?” I chuckled, but a lump in my throat nearly made me start coughing.

  “You’ve taken that in stride because you weren’t really into any of them, not really. This woman, with all her challenges, not to mention the weird family…I’m just worried you’re heading for a world of pain. I’m not saying she’s not wonderful and great, because she is. She’s probably the most honest person you could ever have in your life, as I think she’s totally without pretense.”

  “She’s very honest. We just negotiated our financial agreement—she insisted. I wouldn’t allow her to pay rent, but she’ll help with the utility bills. I honestly didn’t even stop to think about whether she may or may not have any money. I just figured she’d have something, as she drives her grandmother’s car and orders her paints and supplies.”

  “She drives? Wow. That’s surprising. Well, I guess we all have our prejudices.” India sounded impressed. “Goes to show you what I know.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with her intellect,” I said. “She mainly has problems with certain social interactions. That, and the first fourteen years of her life, when she lived with her parents. I’m starting to realize her grandmother might just have saved her life by getting custody before the Rowes destroyed her soul. The things she lets slip sometimes…” I didn’t share any of them as they were deeply personal to Hayden, thus special to me too.

  “God. What some people do to their kids.” Erica sighed. “So, what’s your game plan, Greer?”

  “First, rescue the rest of Hayden’s paintings from the school before her mother finds it in her heart to slash them or hold them hostage. Second, prepare Hayden for the showing in Chicago. I think we need to visit her grandmother and explain what’s going on. That should be reassuring for Hayden as well.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll help you arrange for our favorite art movers tomorrow. The guy who runs that team has a soft spot for me. Ow. Stop pinching, Erica. He knows I’m a lesbian and very taken. Don’t be silly.” India giggled, but sounded serious as she continued. “Just let us know if you need help with other things, Greer. I mean, outside of work. Perhaps you don’t see it the way I do, but after watching you put your profession before everything else for so long, this is so new…and I can’t help but worry. So, what I mean to say is I’m glad you called.”

  “Please, don’t tell me you’re crying, India?” I begged her. “Erica, is she?”

  “Not really. Or not yet, I should say. Misty-eyed at the most.” Erica’s gentle smile was easy to detect in her tone. “You know India. She’s all heart.”

  “A tigress with a very huge heart,” I said. “But thank you, both of you. It’s good to know where my true friends are.”

  “And we’ll be Hayden’s friends too, whether she wants us to be or not, in the process.” India sounded determined, and I hoped Hayden would respond well to this proclamation once she found out.

  “Thanks. I’m going to work on some of the contracts I ran out on when Hayden called. See you at work tomorrow, India. The two of you might come by in a few days just for coffee or something? It’ll be a good start for Hayden to get to know the people in my life.”

  “Sure thing, boss.” India paused. “Be careful, though.”

  “I will.”

  We hung up, and I wondered if it was too late to promise such a thing. Taking Hayden in, with all my good intentions, wasn’t going to be easy. My heart was hanging in the balance and perhaps India was right. I was in danger of getting hurt. Then I thought of Hayden, clutching her brushes as her mother drenched her in insults and emotional blackmail. No matter what potential hurt I might be risking, getting Hayden away from that toxic environment and helping her do what she lived for was worth it.

  Having booted up the computer, I pulled up the contracts and started going through them. I often used work as a Band-Aid when something was wrong in my life, but this time it was hard to focus. It took me almost two hours to correct the issues at hand.

  Walking upstairs, I listened for any sounds from Hayden’s room, but it was so quiet, I was afraid she wasn’t there. Calling myself a fool, I tiptoed to her door, which was half open. Peering inside, I saw she had her bedside lamp on. She’d fallen asleep on top of her bedspread, dressed in a tank top and pajama shorts. The room was air-conditioned, and, worried she’d be cold, I fetched a fleece blanket from my room and gently spread it over her. Watching her for a few moments, I took in the way her hair spread across the pillow. I spotted something protruding from under it, and, of course, Hayden had three paintbrushes tucked away where she could reach them. At least she wasn’t clutching them now. This had to mean she felt safe under my roof, I prayed.

  Heading to my en-suite bathroom with a much-longed-for shower in mind, I thought an early night in bed would be a good idea, considering tomorrow would be challenging in all sorts of ways. As the hot water sprayed me, I closed my eyes and recalled India and Erica’s reassurances. My life had changed drastically in the last two weeks. Those two weeks felt more like two months. How was it even possible? Did this really happen or had I stumbled in some damn rabbit hole on my way to the art school that day?

  I dried myself off and dressed similarly to Hayden. I thought of the light kiss we’d shared and the way Hayden had allowed me to hold her. Too much. Too soon. I needed to pull back and let her find her bearings and keep painting. Anything else from my end would be selfish. As much as my body craved the closeness we’d experienced, I should put her first and not distract her with something confusing like a budding relationship on top of everything else.

  My heart clenched painfully, but I told myself it would get easier with time once I found the tools to be around Hayden without wanting her like this. A glance in the mirror nearly unhinged me. My eyes were dark and glazed over with tears. And I never cry. Ever.

  Blinking against the burning sensation, I made myself think of what pleasure it would bring me to witness Hayden grow and succeed with her painting. Then and only then, I might revisit these emotions.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Hayden’s room was empty the next morning. I called downstairs, thinking she might be up early having breakfast, but the house was silent. Of course. How silly of me. I tied the belt of my robe and walked up to the roof. The sun was just up, painting the sky purple and pink. The studio door was half ajar, and inside, Hayden stood, already busy painting. Still only dressed in her nightwear, her skin glowed in the morning light.

  She glanced at me for a moment but didn’t greet me until I stepped through the door. “Good morning, Greer.” She used a wide brush, laying down colors reminiscent of the sky outside.

  “Good morning. Sleep well your first night here?” Despite my best intentions on keeping us on a professional level, the sight of her stole my breath away.

  “Yes. The bed is comfortable and I felt safe.”

  Well, that summed it up. “I’m glad on both accounts. What if I make us some breakfast and bring it up here?”

  “Yes.” She turned her head over her shoulder. “Thank you.”

  “Eggs, bacon—or?”

  “Eggs, bacon, fried tomatoes, and orange juice. No coffee.”

  I did ask. “Coming up. How do you want your eggs?”

  “Scrambled.”

  “Got it.
Tomorrow you cook breakfast for me and I watch.”

  Hayden stopped what she was doing. “All right. That’s fair.”

  I hummed on my way to the kitchen, pulling out what I needed for our meal. I wasn’t a splendid cook by any means, but my scrambled eggs were famous with India and Erica. The thought of my friends and the conversation we’d had yesterday made me somber. I went through the motions of cooking, but my mind wrestled with the same questions I’d thought of as I tossed and turned last night. Was I being fair to Hayden by withdrawing after initiating physical closeness? How the hell was I going to handle this?

  I tossed two light blankets over my shoulder and carried the large tray upstairs, crossed the still-cool deck, and shouldered through the door to the studio. Placing the tray on the table in the corner, I closed the door as I started shivering in my thin robe. A glance at Hayden proved she was probably too far into her work to feel the cool wind.

  “Mmm. Smells good.” She walked over and sat down on one of the stools.

  I gave her one of the blankets. “I don’t know about you, but I’m cold.”

  “Thank you.” Hayden felt her thigh. “Looks like I’m cold too. I didn’t notice before.”

  “I guessed as much.” With the door closed, the sun warmed the studio fairly quickly, and I picked up a piece of bacon with my fingertips. Chewing it, I cast a glance at the new painting. “You’re painting the view from here?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s stunning. I’m sure your work will be too.” I watched Hayden eat with what I’d noticed was her usual good appetite. “I seem to make breakfast to your liking.”

  “Especially the eggs. As good as Nana’s.”

  “High praise. Thank you.” I had to smile at the contented, blissful expression on Hayden’s face as she scooped up the last bite on her plate. She sipped her orange juice and eyed my coffee mug. “Do you regret not having coffee?” I asked. “You can have a sip of mine if you like. I take it with a bit of milk.”

  “It’s not polite.”

  “To have milk?” I blinked.