“That’s okay, I’ll be fine.” I took a step outside his door, “Thank you for letting me see your paintings. I feel inspired now. I think I’ll doodle on my students’ papers while grading them tonight.”
He laughed, “Oh, it’s nothing really. But thank you, I’m glad you liked them. And thanks for the company, I enjoyed it. Come back anytime… I mean… to see more paintings. I’d be happy to show you them.”
I smiled shyly. He seemed nervous, which in turn, made me nervous, and I couldn’t tell if it was my flattery or his flirting with me that made my cheeks heat up. “I may do that,” I said before I moved down the hall. Then it hit me who I thought his work reminded me of and I spun around to catch him before he closed the door. “Oh, Drew?”
He stopped with his hand on the doorframe as he peeked over his arm at me. “Yes?”
“You know, your father was right, I don’t think you’re close to Picasso.” He studied me, with confusion and a question in his eyes. “Picasso was kind of out there. He had some okay work, but in my opinion, a lot of it looked kind of like weird, abstract art made into people. Your work reminds me of Monet.”
“Claude Monet? You’re kidding; he was one of the greatest French painters of the nineteenth century. I’ll never come close to being that gifted.” His brow arched in surprise, as if I’d lost my mind.
“He painted beautiful landscapes, waterfronts, and gardens from all around the world, using bright colors that filled every speck of the canvas. You paint as beautifully. No, you’re no Picasso. You’re a modern day Monet. You should give yourself a little more credit.”
Drew stared at me and I was glad he was speechless over my praise, rather than shocked because he hated Monet’s work. I wished him goodnight and left him with his mouth hanging open at his door.
Chapter 4
Jolting awake in my bed, the image of him came to me instantly. It had been months since I dreamt of Jesse. I could see him again, and play and laugh with him like we used to. We got along so well growing up and rarely did anyone see us apart. I was always grateful when he came to me in my sleep. It was a chance to recreate the happy times we had together before the accident, which was always my first waking thought of my brother. I was thankful I never dreamed about the accident. My shrink told me it was because I blocked out everything that happened, subconsciously denying my brain’s ability to relive any of those memories. It was fine by me; I didn’t need to remember what happened that day while I slept. Whenever I thought about my brother, those memories were always first to come.
The clock on the wall read five-fifteen in the morning. I sighed, knowing it was an hour earlier than I needed to wake up. Instead of trying to fall back asleep, I lay there and thought about my dream. It felt like a message from him, but I knew that was crazy. In my dream, Jesse stood beside me in our driveway at the front of our parents’ house with our fingers interwoven. I looked like myself and not the sixteen-year-old girl I was when he last saw me. Jesse appeared as always, my big brother, my protector.
He looked at me and then down the long driveway. I followed his eyes to our front door, where our parents stood in the doorway, their arms wrapped around one another, a welcoming smile on their lips. I looked at Jesse, confused by the loving persona they were portraying. My parents didn’t hug anymore. They could barely tolerate being in the same room with each other as it was.
“They’re waiting for you,” Jesse said.
I shrugged my shoulders. “Why? Why are they so happy all of a sudden? The last time I was here, Dad told me how much he hated me and it ended in disaster. Going back will start the drama all over again, and I’m not strong enough for the fight. That’s why I left in the first place.”
He took my other hand and squeezed them together tightly. “You know, you’ll have to go back.”
I shook my head, “I can’t, Jesse. I can’t go back. Besides, it’s not me they want to see, it’s you.”
He kissed me on the forehead and pressed both hands to the side of my face. “You know I can’t go back. It’s just you, Mom, and Dad now.”
He gave me a nudge toward the door and I took a few steps before he called my name.
“Lilly,” he smiled, his blue eyes still sparkling like I remembered. “You shut people out, and keep yourself too busy so you don’t have to think about what happened. If you don’t stop, it will ruin you.”
The truth cut deep and I closed my eyes to banish it. Tears spilled down my cheeks and I felt his warm thumbs gently wiping them away. “It almost has ruined me. It will never be the same without you here,” I cried.
“But I will always be here,” he pointed to my heart. “Whenever you need me. No matter where you are, when you talk, I’m listening. I’m your big brother, right? That will never change.”
I nodded, understanding that even in death, I still had my brother with me wherever I went.
“They need you more than they know. And you need them more than you know.”
I woke up.
I felt a complete and utter loss. The tears slid down my cheek, onto my neck, and I wiped them away, realizing I wasn’t only crying in my dream, but while I slept. The whole dream felt real. I saw Jesse, felt his hands on mine, the pressure of his fingers on my face. It was too real and I couldn’t understand why I dreamed it at all. I almost laughed when I thought about what Jesse said: My parents needed me just as much as I needed them. That woke me up real quick, and signified that it was indeed a dream. The only time I heard from my parents these days was if Mom called me, and even then, it was only a few times a month. Better still, there was no way I was going home.
I could only guess my dream was because the anniversary of Jesse’s death was coming up. It was probably safe to guess my subconscious was already thinking about him, even though I wasn’t ready for that day to come. It was a bad time of the year for my parents and me, but mostly, my father. While I tried my best to remember all the good that came from Jesse, my father could only concentrate on the accident. He was drowning in a whiskey bottle of “what-if’”s and “I-told-you-so”s. I pulled the covers back and slipped on my pajama pants before making my way to the kitchen to heat a coffee pot full of hot water. Waiting for the water to cycle through, I walked onto my balcony that overlooked the pond and walking track. The sky was lightening up in pale pink and orange hues, but the sun had yet to peek over the horizon. I could see a few early risers jogging on the track and I wondered what the crap motivated people to wake this early for exercise. I didn’t get it. No matter how hard I tried to make an effort at the gym, going above and beyond to stay fit wasn’t high on my priority list.
To the right, I saw a person sitting on a park bench with a stand in front of him. What is he doing? I thought about it for a minute before I realized it had to be Drew. I was certain of it. I wondered if it would bother him too much if I watched him paint. Opting to take my chances, I ran to the bathroom and pulled my hair up in a messy bun on the top of my head. Then I fixed two cups before hurrying out the door.
“Good morning, Drew,” I said timidly beside him.
He glanced up at me, “Oh, hi. What are you doing out so early?”
“I had a weird dream and couldn’t go back to sleep. I thought it was you I saw from my balcony.” I extended the extra cup in my hand to him, “Here, I thought you might like a cup?”
He took the mug from my hand. “Oh, thanks. I don’t drink coffee, but since you went to all the trouble, I’ll drink it anyway,” he grinned.
“Well, do you like hot chocolate? Because I don’t do coffee either!”
“Aren’t you supposed to drink that in the winter when it’s cold?”
“Well, if that’s the case, shouldn’t coffee drinkers only drink coffee when it’s cold?”
Drew took a sip and laughed, “Point taken.”
“So what are you working on?” I asked, looking at the canvas on the easel between his legs. He placed his cup beside him on the bench and picked up a tray from his la
p that held dabs of various colors of paint.
“You came at the perfect time. Now you can see two sunrises this morning.”
“Sunrise? How are you going to get a sunrise out of those colors?” I couldn’t understand how brushing bright red and dark blue together could come close to matching the hues of the orange and gold sky. Of course, I knew it could be done. I’ve seen plenty of paintings, but it was still hard for me to comprehend, or anyone else, I imagine, unless you knew what you were doing… which I didn’t.
“You’d be surprised how easy it is. With a little practice, you could paint a sky like this. Have a seat, I’ll show you.”
I sat down gently, so as not to spill his hot chocolate. Drew explained that before he started with colored paint, he had to first use a clear type of paint that allowed him to brush and blend all the other colors together more easily. He dabbed red across the top half of the page, here and there, in no particular order. Once he mixed white onto his brush and swept it across the surface, the red toned down into a glowing orange. I was mesmerized to see how his wrist flicked back and forth as he transformed a blank, white slate into a beautiful snapshot of a simple, magical moment in time. I could see his concentration by the creases of his brow whenever his eyes darted between the sky and the canvas. Drew continued painting the pond before swiftly highlighting the reflection of the risen sun over the surface of the water. Delicately, with a tiny brush, he drew in the trees and grass, leaving out the walking track and early morning risers. It was as if we were alone on the bank of a lake, watching the sun rise.
Drew turned towards me and a smile crept over his lips.
“You can breathe, you know.”
As soon as he said it, I released a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. My hands were locked around the mug in my lap, and I hadn’t moved since sitting back down. I shook my head and laughed. “Sorry, I think I was too scared to move. I didn’t want to mess you up.”
“It’s okay, nothing a little paint wouldn’t fix.”
“It’s beautiful, Drew,” I said, gazing at the painting. “What are you going to do with it? Is it for a client?”
“No, not yet. I just felt like painting a sunrise when I woke up.”
“I don’t understand why your parents disagree with your choice of career. Not everyone has the skills you have. That should stand for something.”
His smiled disappeared. “Actually, it’s my dad who thinks I’m a lazy bum. My mom was always very supportive of my artwork. She had me painting everything around the house before I got into college. She was convinced I needed the practice, like I couldn’t get in unless I first proved myself. It wasn’t Julliard; I wasn’t expected to ‘perform’ first.”
I giggled at the thought and pictured him painting all the household’s fruit and vegetables in a decorative bowl. “At least, you have someone in your corner.”
“Not anymore,” he frowned. She died two years ago from breast cancer, so she’s not around to tell my dad to shut his mouth about my career path.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that. I can only imagine how hard that must have been.” I didn’t know what else to say. There’s an instant monologue that seems to spew out of people when they know you’ve lost someone important, as they try to pretend to know how you feel. I heard it a thousand times after Jesse died.
“Thank you. It was hard, and still is. My mom and I were very close, and when she died, it only pushed my father and me that much further apart.” He sighed, picked up his brush and dipped the tip in black paint before signing his name on the bottom right corner. “Well, I better head back in and get ready for work.”
I looked at my watch to find it was already seven o’clock. “Crap, I had no idea that I’ve been out here this long. Let me help you carry something back.”
“Thanks. If you can grab the coffee mugs and the paint tray, I’ll get the rest.”
I was still in awe of all the paintings that hung on his wall and wanted to linger around his apartment longer. But I couldn’t stay, we both had work and I needed to get ready for it. I walked to the door and turned to tell him goodbye, but he was already behind me with a newspaper in his hand.
“Thanks for coming out, I really enjoyed your company.”
“You’re welcome. I’m glad I woke up early and had the chance to see you in action. I hope you’ll let me watch again sometime.”
His eyes lit up, “I would love that. Actually, I’m going tonight after work to look at some studio spaces I found in the paper this morning. Would you like to come with me? I could use a second opinion.”
“Oh, I’m not sure what kind of opinion I could give you, except for some decorating advice… that’s probably about it.”
“Well, I could use that too, and the general opinion of a friend.”
The opinion of a friend, I don’t know why those words stuck out in my mind. Of course, he was a friend. He’d been nothing but kind and helpful whenever he saw me. What else did I expect? Something more? No, I had Tyler for that, which was exactly why I was going out with him tonight. Crap. “I can’t tonight. I have plans.” I sulked. I really wanted to go, but I wanted my date tonight too, and I couldn’t have both.
“Well, I can wait until this weekend—Saturday—if you’re free?”
“Oh, don’t put it off and miss out on something because of me.”
“It’s not a big deal. I’m only looking really; but like I said, I could use your opinion. You are supposed to be my manager, right?” he joked.
“Well, in that case, I better come along. Meet me at my apartment at ten? Is that okay?”
“That will be perfect.”
Chapter 5
Toni’s Café was a small gem. I felt like I discovered it before the rest of Fairfield ever got the chance… that, or they didn’t know a good sandwich shop when they saw one. I found it one day on my way to the dry cleaners across the street and became addicted to it ever since. The food was great, the atmosphere not too busy, and it was, over all, a great place to hang out and talk. That was exactly why I wanted Tyler to meet me here. We could chat, but I could stay within the presence of others, since technically, I really didn’t know him.
I checked my watch. It was five minutes until six and I still didn’t see Tyler. This was a stupid idea. There was no way he was interested in me. Who was I kidding? Guys with his level of hotness didn’t accept dates from ordinary girls like me. I wanted to stare out of the café‘s window for him to come into view, but I wasn’t about to let my eagerness or anxiety show. Picking up the menu, I studied it, took a deep breath, and prepared myself for the inevitable. If he didn’t show up, I’d eat my dinner alone like I did every other time I came here.
It was five after six when I decided to order a sweet tea, while trying to narrow down my sandwich choice this time around. Warm fingers brushed over my bare shoulder and I jumped.
“Hi. Sorry I’m late,” he smiled, sitting down in front of me. “I couldn’t find a parking spot closeby, so I had to park around the corner. Did you already order?”
“No, only a drink.” Thank God he was here and I didn’t get stood up! It hurt no matter how much you told yourself that you weren’t really that interested anyway. Maybe Tyler really was interested me. There was only one way to know for sure… stick with it and see how things went. If I didn’t give it a chance, I’d never know.
“You look great, by the way. I don’t think I’ve seen you in anything besides workout clothes. You didn’t have to dress up just for me.”
“Well, I didn’t want to make a bad impression. Plus, I usually wear something like this to work, so it isn’t a big deal.” I picked out a simple, black sleeveless dress this morning. The cover-up sweater I wore throughout the day was shed and left behind in my car, in order to show off my long neck and slight cleavage. I wasn’t trying to give him a show, but just a little taste of something more.
“You shouldn’t be worried about trying to impress me. Asking me out before I could ask
you impressed me enough.”
“Oh,” I said, trying to reduce the heat radiating in my cheeks. “Anything in particular you wanted to do tonight? I really don’t know much about the area, so I was hoping you’d have some ideas.” He peeked at me over the menu; and judging by the way his brown eyes gleamed and roamed down my neck and chest, I had a feeling that taking a long stroll in a park wasn’t what he envisioned.
“Actually, I was thinking we could drive over to Imperial Point. Have you been there before?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“It’s a cove on the Imperial River. A lot of people go there to fish, have a picnic, walk their dogs, read a book, relax, whatever. It’s supposed to be mild and clear tonight, and it’s never that crowded in the evenings. I thought it would be a good place to relax and get to know one another. It’s kind of hard to do that watching a movie.”
Wow, there might actually be something to this guy besides arm curls and muscles. “That sounds really great, I’d like that.”
“How about we order our food to go and eat at the cove? I’ve got a blanket in my truck?”
“Really? You don’t mind?”
“No, not at all. Do you want to ride with me and I’ll bring you back whenever you’re ready to leave?”
“Okay,” I told him. I didn’t see any reason not to get in the car with him. My gut told me I’d be fine. As of right now, this was going to be way better than I thought it would be.
Imperial Point was one place I knew I’d be back to visit again. It was beautiful, peaceful, and few people seemed to stick around once the sun set behind the trees on the far side of the cove. We ate our sandwiches on his blanket at the edge of the water and talked about nothing important. Our words filled the air with meaningless chit-chat about the weather and the hot temperatures we had this summer.
“Want to take a walk?” Tyler asked after throwing our sandwich wrappers in the trashcan nearby.
“Sure.” He reached for my hand to help me up. I pulled the blanket up with me and shook out the grass before I folded it. Tyler put it back in his truck and I briefly wondered how many other women he’d done this very thing with. I swept the thought away. He was here with me right now and that was all that mattered.
Painted Memories Page 4
