The Color of Us

by Jessica Park

I know enough not to call back right away, but later, after three glasses of wine, I redial, knowing full well that I’ll hit his voice mail, which, right now, I prefer so that he can’t stop me from talking.

  “You are not too anything to not come home. Not too crushed, not too damaged, not too sad or broken or ashamed or anything else you might be thinking, and you are not defined by who your mother is or how she treats you or speaks about you. Her faults reflect who she is, not who you are. You are more whole than most people. It’s probably better that your crazy mother ran and left you in the care of so many wonderful people because look at how much love you were given. Most people don’t get that kind of upbringing. It’s not traditional, and it’s not without pain, but it made you into the guy I have fallen so passionately and profoundly in love with. She would have ruined you if she’d stayed, so don’t let her ruin you because she left.”

  I take a breath, but it doesn’t keep me from starting to cry for the pain he’s going through.

  “You didn’t trick me with some kind of fake version of yourself.” What I say next is tough to get out, but it has to be said. “I can be happy with my new life; I can go on without you if I have to, but please don’t make me. Please stay with me.”

  After I hang up, I grab on to the bedding. Bwankies wiff wibbons what work.

  “Please stay with me,” I whisper as I drift off. “Please come home.”

  forty

  It’s two weeks later when I’m at Mary Ann’s farm, picking produce and fawning over her animals, that she gets a text.

  Danny has been spotted in town.

  “Why aren’t you taking off this second?” she nearly barks. “He’s back! Go, go!”

  “Because I’m angry and hurt, but I don’t get to feel any of my stupid feelings because he’s the one who deserves to feel angry and hurt and everything else. But why hasn’t he reached out to me? He obviously still needs space, and I have to respect that. I’m just worried.”

  “Shit.” She frowns. “You’re going to bruise that escarole if you keep slamming it into your basket.”

  “Sorry, sorry.” I continue walking through the garden rows. It’s been soothing for me to spend most of the day here and away from my house, where I’m only flooded with feelings.

  “And, ohmigod, not the radicchio too! Now, you’re pissing me off.” Mary Ann rushes ahead of me and stops me in my place. “Admit that you miss him. And let the other stuff go.”

  “I do miss him. But he also hurt me by running away and not trusting me.”

  “And you hurt my radicchio and escarole. I still forgive you.” Her smile is both obnoxious and wonderful. “Danny got annihilated, and he ran. Who wouldn’t? Your mom ran. It’s what people do when they’re injured and afraid. But he didn’t run from you. He took the break that he needed. And he came back, didn’t he? That says a lot.”

  She’s right. I just hope he also came back to me. The Boston lettuce that I lift into my basket faces far less abuse.

  “Just go home. Find each other again,” she continues.

  At last, I give in and nod. “Okay. You make too much sense, and I’m embarrassed for not being more understanding.”

  “You were simply afraid of losing him.”

  She’s right. I’ve grown more attached to him than I want to admit.

  “Mary Ann, it would just kill me.”

  “I know. He didn’t leave you. None of this is about you. It’s about him and his shitty mother. So, take care of him the way he’s taken care of you.” Her hair flies in the breeze as she nudges me not so gently. “So, go. He’s probably at your house right now.”

  “Okay, you’re right. Thank you for everything. For setting me straight. And for being such a special friend.”

  “Same to you, love.”

  Just as I shut the car door, a curious text from Nicole comes in, and so I take a drive to the crêperie, wondering what she could possibly want to see me about. Before I am halfway through the door, she is beckoning me to a table where she has a plate ready for me.

  “Sit, sit! I have the crepes for you. The many mushrooms, Gruyere, spinach, fresh tomatoes, and a bechamel. The one you have first time here, yes? Is good, so you eat up, non?”

  “Of course.” I have no idea what’s happening, but I’m not about to refuse one of her delicious meals.

  “Du vin, oui?”

  It only took that one time for me to learn that refusing wine here is a big mistake, so I nod. “Please.”

  After she pours me a very large glass of a French red, she takes a seat across from me.

  “I am here a long time, yes? I love serving all the crepes, the many people here.” She thumps a hand on the table, nearly toppling my glass. “But is time.”

  It’s almost hard to listen to her because my taste buds are floating around in heaven. “Huh? What do you mean? It’s time for what?”

  “Is time to retire. I move.” While refilling her own wineglass, she looks away.

  “No, Nicole. You can’t mean that,” I protest. “We need you here. Everyone loves your food. And you!”

  “And I love town here and all the peoples, but I miss the France,” she states emphatically. “Dijon, Bourgogne, Côte d’Azur. I want to travel, eat the things, see all my friends again.”

  Part of my heart breaks, but I understand. “That does sound wonderful. God, we’ll miss you so much.”

  “But is okay, mon petit chou. You now have restaurant.”

  I choke on my wine. “I now what?”

  “I own building, and I now rent to you for brunch place. Diner of sorts. And I charge low rent, so is no problem.”

  At first, I don’t register what she’s suggesting. Then it hits me. “You think I should open a restaurant?”

  “Just for the brunch menu, okay?” Nicole clears my plate and walks away as she calls back, “But you stay open when you like. Does not have to be just morning time. Evening eggs Benedict? Afternoon omelet? All sound nice.”

  Those do sound nice. And I don’t think it’s just my full stomach and the glass of wine that are talking.

  My drive home is slow, and Shallots keeps his head in my lap for the whole ride. He knows something has been wrong before tonight even though I have tried to smother him with lots of positive chatter and a regular routine, but animals know all.

  The idea of seeing Danny at my house is both wonderful and also terrifying because I have no idea what he will say. Nor what I will say. But I do know that I have missed the hell out of him. And now, I have this brunch-restaurant bullshit rolling around in my head.

  My heart sinks when I pull up to an empty driveway. He’s not here. After I feed the hungry dog and pour him a fresh bowl of water, I see how the sunlight sprays into the kitchen in a way that makes me look up.

  The ceiling.

  He was here today.

  God, the glorious green tin tiles are in. And the light fixture I chose and that Danny installed is outrageous.. A gold bulb hanging inside an iron rectangular frame, both encased within a glass dome. It finishes off the kitchen in a way that only he could have seen. I scan the tiles over and over because they are beyond what I could have hoped for.

  Suddenly, one tile that is not like the others catches my eye, and I zoom in on it. A polar bear is etched into the tin. My heart swells.

  There’s also a very large item, heavy and wrapped in thick white paper, resting outside the kitchen. No delivery information, no return address, nothing. Likely something I ordered after too many glasses of wine. But there’s a note taped to it that makes my heart jump.

  SOMETHING TO FILL THAT EMPTY SPACE IN YOUR STAIRWAY.

  I’ve only barely torn back the paper when I know that this is from Danny. Right away, I see the fragments of glass that he shattered in the greenhouse, now grouted, and when I peel back more, I am looking at the most beautiful mosaic of glass pieces ever. He took the shards of glass from what he’d destroyed of his mother’s work and found beauty and worth despite his pain.


  It only takes me a minute to see that the colors in this piece are made up of the ones Danny showed me were mine. Ours. The ones that he stroked over my skin. I cannot wait for us to hang this piece together.

  His mother might be a complete disaster, but she also created such beauty—and not just with her art. She gave me and so many other people a gift with this boy.

  Later, I sit on the dock because I know this is where he’ll show up. It’s over two hours of waiting, but I’m right.

  “Did you know that the San Diego Zoo has other live cameras?”

  Hearing his voice shatters me with relief, and I slump over, trying to hold back tears, but I can’t look at him just yet.

  “Like the ape cam? Today, the orangutans and simians were munching on heads of lettuce and playing around with—I kid you not—old calendars. Like printed calendars of I don’t know what, but they were having a blast. Staring at pictures and then using the pages to shield themselves from the sun. Holding them close like they were reading them, studying them. It was awesome.” His steps reach closer. “And they love lettuce. And some kind of shredded wood material. I tweeted the zoo about this, but now, I’ve forgotten what it is exactly because I cannot stop staring at your figure—the impeccable shape of you—and I’m so flustered. But it’s bundles of wood shavings that these guys love and roll around in for hours. We should be watching that shit together.”

  “We will.” When I finally bring myself to turn, I’m stunned. Danny is killing it in a fitted black suit, and I cannot hide my reaction. “Fuck, Danny.”

  “You brought one of my truths to life. I wanted to wear a suit, and I finally felt like this was an opportunity.”

  And he is wearing it to the nines. It’s tailored so perfectly to his body, and he’s showing off a sexy white shirt, the top few buttons undone. I don’t know what to say because everything that runs through my head is all about how much I’ve missed him, how much I’ve wanted to hold him, protect him, and give him everything he’s given me. Nothing about how he should have trusted me enough to talk to me, to open up to me, because that doesn’t matter now. He’s back, and I know that he’s not leaving.

  But I just smile and say, “So, you just left the top few buttons of your shirt undone so that I could about lose my mind? And you think I care about a live ape cam now? Although we’ll have to get back to that because I admit that I’m intrigued. But you are far more intriguing right now.”

  He raises a hand and waves a piece of fabric. “I didn’t know how to deal with this tie, so …” He walks slowly down the dock and reaches down to take my hand.

  I stand and quickly press my body against his, trying to bring us close enough so that we’re shielded from everything. Just for a heartbeat.

  Relief floods every part of my body when he lifts me up and crushes me against him.

  “You also made another truth happen. The most important one.”

  While I remember what he said, what he’s referencing, I need to hear him say it now, and I choke back sobs and lightly hit my hands against his chest until he is able to speak. “Tell me again.”

  “I told you that I’d never fall so deeply in love with you that I wouldn’t know where I stop and where you begin. That I wouldn’t want to be in a place where I couldn’t come back from that.”

  “Yes.” It’s all I can manage.

  “You made that happen.”

  “No. We made that happen.”

  He leans in to kiss me, but I cut him off when I am finally able to lift up and smile wryly. I’m going to ask him what he asked me. The questions that helped me heal.

  “What color do you see when you think about me?”

  It’s only seconds before he holds eye contact and answers, “Pearl ruby red.”

  My mouth grazes his neck. “And when we make love?”

  He groans but laughs lightly. “Sapphire blue. Because it’s both so calming and so hot. Just as you are. As we are.”

  Danny and his colors are back.

  I walk him to the end of the dock and continue replaying his words. “You’ve got family here, whether you know it or not.”

  “You’re using my words against me in the best way.” He tightly wraps an arm around my waist and looks out at the lake that means so much to both of us. “I do know that. I feel it now, understand it in a way that I didn’t before. My biological mother didn’t mean to, but she accidentally gave me a family most people could only dream of. I had to take some time away to understand how lucky I am.”

  “So, tell me you’re staying.” I again ask him to be as truthful as I’ve had to. “Tell me that this is your home.”

  “Of course I’m staying. Of course this is my home.”

  “Leaving Wake is now off the table for good?”

  “For good,” he agrees. “This is our forever home.”

  Suddenly, he lowers his touch until he’s gripping my hand. There’s no time to hesitate or laugh or even fall more in love as he yells, “Ready?”

  Together, we run and jump and call out, “One, two, three, coffee!”

  We sink together, and we break the surface together, and the palette that we will create together promises to be spectacular.

  I cannot wait.

  epilogue

  “You ready?” Danny asks.

  “Nope.” I shake my head. “Not at all.”

  “Tough because you open in less than a week.”

  As I wander around the space, I cannot believe that it’s almost done. “Who knew what would come from hosting that damn pumpkin festival a few months ago, right? How it would make this real?”

  After Danny came back home, he stayed with me for a week until he was ready to see everyone again. It was obvious that everyone would surround him, embrace him, and help him settle back in. And they did. Paul hugged him so hard that Danny eventually had to physically extricate himself, and Mary Ann, Slow, and Matteo each kept him in vise grips and words of love until Danny was visibly blushing and begging them to back off.

  What wasn’t obvious was that Nicole would announce her retirement to the group and that she was done with her beloved crêperie. I’d only told Danny about her offer—well, insistence—that I take over her place.

  I will never forget her toast as I served dessert.

  “Is my time to step down. To travel back to my France. But I pass on restaurant to our Callie. Is a perfect place for her to host more and more of the brunches. She likes, so okay?”

  Before I could say anything, my mom almost jumped out of her chair. “Oh, I love this for you, Callie!”

  And within minutes, she had everyone at the table cheering on this plan. When she pulled me aside later, she only half-apologized for her eagerness, but she also asked how I felt about what I’d taken on.

  “It’s crazy. I’m crazy—that’s what I think.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. You’ve spent a lot of your own money on the house—and I’ve been all for that once I knew what you were really up to—but maybe you can make back some of that investment. I know beyond a doubt that your dad would have been all for your new adventure. He’d be so damn proud of you, Callie.”

  She also showed me a text from Erica.

  Tell Callie again that I’m sorry I couldn’t be there this weekend. Maybe for her opening?

  After my initial hesitation, I realized that it made sense. More than that, it would bring me joy. While I loved serving brunches at my house, it really was a ton of work to get done in a small space, and I could serve only so many people. Opening my own place? In theory, I could feed the whole town.

  So, I took the proverbial plunge.

  But only because Alex agreed to stick by my side. He’s also delighted by the vacuum-seal machine we have on site.

  The renovations I asked for have taken time but time that’s been worth it. My diner is full of textured and patterned tiles and has a rich wood floor, eclectic lighting, and welcoming blues on the walls. Opening this place is going to be so terrifying and so wonderf
ul, but I’m ready. While I’ve had many cooking failures, I’ve also had enough successes that make me believe that I’m ready to do this. I’m still tackling that difficult ricotta cake with the flowers encased in gelatin, but I’m getting closer to my goal. The actual cheesecake base is a wonder, and now, it’s just a matter of keeping the flowers from lurching off the side of the dome, but I’m determined to get there. Failures here and there are okay.

  Danny takes my hand. “Come with me. I want to show you something.”

  “There’s so much more to do,” I protest as I hunch over a long list. “The order for new dishes hasn’t gone through, and I still haven’t heard back from the vendor who’s supposed to provide eco-friendly takeout containers.”

  Despite my reasons to stay inside and stress, he manages to drag me away and take me outside. “Just look.”

  The cold air is shocking and shakes me from my business fog, and I spin and reach up my hands with delight. “Oh my God. It’s snowing.”

  He laughs. “It has been for hours. There’s a full-on storm tonight.”

  When I was a kid, we waited with unbridled anticipation in the late fall or early winter for snow to come. It was expected and nothing unique then, but it’s been years since I’ve felt snowflakes fall over me, and I forgot how invigorating it is to have frosty bits dance over my skin and cover the landscape in pure white iciness. I rip off my sweatshirt and push up the sleeves of my shirt so that I can take in this snow and chill fully.

  “Callie, you’re going to freeze!” Danny chases after me and tries to throw his coat over my shoulders.

  The weather only makes me feel more alive, and I brush away his coat, especially when I see the snow people that he has sculpted.

  “You remembered!” I say joyfully.

  “I did. Because of you.” He shoves a bag my way. “But you’re going to have to help with the fascinators.”

  So, we decorate snow people with scarves, ties, buttons and carrot noses and outlandish boas and, most importantly, tiny hats.

  Braving the cold as we run around in the snow feels both so foreign yet so familiar, and we stay outside in this winter night until the temperature threatens to freeze more than branches.