Maple Creek

by Elizabeth Penn

  “Thank you,” they said together in unison.

  “So happy for you,” said Sarah, smiling from her seat.

  As I made my way back to my chair, eager to hear more about their engagement, I was suddenly hit with a wave of anxiety. In the corner of my eye, I spotted a man, standing in the window of the dining room, looking in. I did a double take. He was definitely there. We locked eyes, and with a wink, Hector slumped back away from the window and into the shadows.

  “Thanks for the dinner, it was fun. I’ve really got to get to bed, though. I’m tired. Goodnight, everyone. Congrats, John,” I said, my words all running together.

  “What about the portrait?” Sarah called after me.

  “I’ve got enough done. Thanks,” I yelled back in a shaky voice.

  I scooped up my sketchbook and pencil and sprinted up the stairs, taking two steps at a time, in the same way that you run out of a room when you are afraid of the dark.

  Once I was up in my room, I tossed my art supplies under the bed, closed the curtains tightly, making sure that there were no cracks that could be seen through. Then I locked the door, turned out the lights, jumped into bed, pulled the covers over my head, and cried myself to sleep.

  Chapter 32

  I barely slept or ate for the next two weeks. I did my work for Margaret, but I avoided the windows everywhere I went. Margaret assumed I had some sort of cold. She was always pointing out that I was pale, and that my nose was red from using tissues. I simply agreed with her, and would go back to my chores. It was a good cover because she wouldn’t send me out of the house for errands, and often encouraged me to drink tea and take naps, which kept me up in my room most of the time.

  I had finished the sketch layer for Sarah’s portrait, but it needed color. Bright, vibrant color. I wanted it to not only look like her, but also feel like her. When people saw it, I wanted them to love her.

  “Hey, Margaret?” I asked, peeking around the corner of the kitchen.

  She was whipping up a batch of cookies. “Yes?”

  “Do we have any bright paints or other art supplies in the storage room? I have a few supplies, but I would like to use something different, if possible.”

  “We should have something artsy down there,” she answered, plopping cookie dough onto a baking sheet, “Are you sure you are going to be okay, Emily? I can take you to the hospital if you need. You have been sick for a long time.”

  “I’ll be okay,” I sighed, “Hopefully, this will all be better in only a few more days.”

  “Okay, sweetie.”

  I went down into the basement through a small door under the stairs. It was where John and Margaret kept all the decorations and extra supplies for the B&B. I rummaged through boxes of holiday decorations, crates of tools, clear bins filled with extra pillows and blankets, and a couple boxes that were filled with unidentifiable pieces of broken objects.

  Then, I came to a box with office supplies in it, which was closer to what I had been looking for. Inside was printer paper, pens, boxes of staples, and highlighters. I shoved my hand down a little deeper into the box, just to be sure there wasn’t anything else, and my hand came in contact with a box about the size of a thick book. I pulled it up through the rest of the supplies, and a spark of creativity rushed through me when I saw what it was.

  It was a box of 100 crayons. Sarah, the woman who I wanted to show to the world, who was a bright light in my darkness, just so happened to be a kindergarten teacher. It was brilliant. I was going to paint her with crayons. The colors were bright, just like her, and the medium represented who she was and what she loved. I packed the box back up and put it away, happily taking my box of crayons upstairs.

  “Oh, Emily,” Margaret said, coming into the foyer and wiping her hands on her new daisy apron, “I almost forgot to tell you that some mail came for you yesterday. It’s sitting on the coffee table.”

  My heart began to feel a little lighter, “Mail?”

  I strode into the living room, and laid the box of crayons on the couch beside me. There, on the coffee table was a yellow envelope from the county courts in California. I picked it up, squeezing the prongs and carefully ripping it open. I pulled out the pack of papers and read the cover page.

  It was a letter officially announcing that the divorce had been finalized. Behind it was a copy of the divorce decree and all the paperwork we had signed. It was official: I was free.

  My tears fell onto the papers, causing wet circles to soak into the pages and the ink bled where they fell. I hugged them tightly to my body, rocking back and forth. I felt relieved, I felt hope, and yet, there was also a twinge of guilt. But it was easily melted away by my realization that I was free to see Sarah. I was no longer under Hector’s thumb. He was gone.

  I ran to Margaret and cried happily on her shoulder, “I’m divorced. It’s official.”

  “Thank God, Emily! I’m so happy for you. But I’m sorry, I know it must be hard at the same time. Are you okay? Is there anything I can get you?”

  “Thank you so much, Margaret. For everything. Really. You and John have saved my life. I’m going to be okay. But now I have to go upstairs and finish my artwork for the show. It’s in two days.”

  “Are you going to talk to Sarah?” she asked.

  “This portrait will say it all, I think,” I answered.

  I went back to the living room to get my crayons and paperwork, then I took them all upstairs to get my work done. I had a plan, and it needed to be ready by Valentine’s Day.

  Chapter 33

  The art show was at six, but Sarah had told me to bring the art to the library at four so that she could make sure everything was set up for the reception. Because I walked instead of getting a ride, I thought I might be a few minutes late, but I was light on my feet, and I got there just in time.

  I entered the library, which was small and quiet, with only about 50 large bookshelves or so lined up around the middle of the floor. There were couches and reading tables, all brown and tattered, scattered here and there. And there was a young grumpy-looking librarian at the desk, typing some things into a computer. Her clothes were bright pink, but her energy was dark, and she obviously wasn’t pleased with whatever she was working on.

  “Hello, miss?” I asked, “I am looking for Sarah Norman? I’m supposed to drop off some art for the show.”

  “Ah, yes. Back room,” she pointed to a glass door to her left without looking up from the computer, “She is back there right now. That’s where the show will be tonight.”

  “Thank you.”

  I put my hand on the cold metal handle, took a breath, and opened the door. Sarah was there, hanging up a large metal-framed painting on the back wall. She was dressed in a friendly yellow sweater over some khakis with a pair of sneakers. Her hair was tied up in a loose bun, which had a few pencils sticking out of it.

  “Sarah?” I asked, hesitantly.

  “Oh, hi, Emily,” her voice wasn’t excited or energetic like it usually was. She sounded tired, “I’ll be with you in a moment.”

  She centered the painting, which was some kind of modern art drip painting in black and white, and then she turned around and came to stand in front of me with her arms crossed.

  “Sarah,” I started, holding my piece o paper to myself so she couldn’t see yet.

  “That has to be in a frame,” she sighed.

  “Ah, well, I will go do that. But first I need to talk to you.”

  “Okay, just make it quick. I have a lot to do before the reception,” she said, wiping a ear from er cheek.

  “Sarah,” I started again, “I know that I left abruptly and I probably hurt you. But I was trying to protect you. My ex-husband found me here and wanted to fill out divorce papers. I did. But he stayed in town until they went through and he was stalking me.

  “I was afraid to go to the police, and he threatened to kill me or anyone I was close to if he thought I might be romantically involved with anyone. The divorce is final, so I
can be with you now. I just couldn’t tell all this to you before. I wanted to protect you because I…I love…”

  “I love you, too,” interrupted Sarah, wrapping me in her arms, and holding me tightly with a sigh.

  “Wait, you aren’t mad? I thought you were mad at me.”

  “No,” she cried, “I just wanted to give you the space you wanted. I’ve been wanting you to come back every day. But I didn’t want to scare you off. I could tell something was wrong. And I used the time away to think, as well. I missed you so much. I’d rather show you off to the world and be judged for it, than go another day without you by my side. I’m okay with being public about our relationship if that’s what you want.”

  I hugged her tighter. I couldn’t seem to get close enough to her. I was overwhelmed with joy, and excitement, and love. The picture made a crinkling sound in my hand.

  “Oh, yeah,” I said stepping back and turning the picture around to show her, “Will you be my Valentine?”

  I had drawn her smiling in the glowing way she did when I first met her at the Halloween party. Her hair was down and the background was angel wings, shaped liked the ones on her tree. On her chest was a heart, drawn simply like her students might draw a heart, made with bright red crayon.

  Her hands covered her mouth, and her eyes were wide, “It’s so beautiful, Emily. Thank you.”

  She took if from my to admire it closer, and her face lit up in a smile.

  “I’m so glad you like it.”

  “And yes!” she exclaimed, “Yes, I will be your Valentine.” She reached down into her sweater and pulled out the locket.

  “I don’t know what to say. I didn’t know if you were going to want me back. I just…” I stuttered.

  “I’m so glad you finally got your divorce, and that you are okay. That’s so scary that he came here. Is he gone?” she asked, looking over my shoulder.

  “Yeah, I think so. I didn’t see him on my walk over here, and recently if I went out at all I would run into him.”

  “Well, good,” she smiled, “I have a frame I can put this in for the show. I have a lot to get done here right now, but maybe we can do something after. See you at the show at six?”

  “Absolutely,” I answered.

  I kissed her on her cheek, and I left the library with a skip in my step to go back to the B&B and get ready for the night.

  Chapter 34

  Margaret drove, and John and Kiuchi sat in the back seat. They had decided to come to the show before their Valentine’s dinner date. I sat in the front with Margaret, and spent most of the ride looking out the window for any sign of Hector. I didn’t see anything that indicated he was there, and I settled back into my seat.

  There were actually quite a few cars in the parking lot, and some people had even started parking on the street. I smoothed down my skirt as I stepped out of the car, wondering to myself if maybe I had overdone my outfit. I’d dressed in a red dress and leggings with my heels and my red jacket to celebrate the holiday. I was feeling festive knowing that Sarah would be waiting there for me.

  We all went into the back room of the library, and it had really been spruced up since I had seen it a few hours before. There were red streamers hanging from the ceiling, a snack and drink table by the door with cans of soda and bags of chips and cookies, and about 20 or so different paintings in all different styles hanging around the walls of the room.

  “Let’s go find your piece,” said Margaret, taking my arm and joining the line of people who were slowly making their way around the room.

  My drawing was on the back wall next to the modern piece I had seen Sarah hanging earlier, and a landscape painting of what looked like the local town hall building. A part of me felt like snatching my drawing down off the wall so no one else could see it.

  There were some amazing artists displaying their work there. Some of the paintings looked so realistic they could have been photographs. And then, there was my piece, all colored with crayons. At least I knew that Sarah liked it. When we finished making our way around the room of abstract paintings and artistic portraits, we stopped to grab a few sodas at the snack table.

  “Hello, everyone. Can I have your attention?” came the voice of Sarah over a set of speakers. She was standing up in the front of the room by my drawing, holding a microphone. “I wanted to thank you all for coming to this year’s Valentine’s Art Show. I’d like to take a moment to put a spotlight on our debut artists, and to make a few announcements.”

  Sarah’s hair was put up with a sparkling black hair clip, and she was wearing a tight black cocktail dress with a big red sequenced heart-shaped pin on her left shoulder. On her legs she wore black tights and black boots that went up to her knees. She looked hot, and I felt better about my dress, as well.

  “Our first artist is Lin Zhu, and this is her painting, right here. She is a local color-blind artist. She uses her life in black and white as inspiration to paint the beauty of these contrasting colors for others to enjoy.”

  The whole room clapped, and Lin Zhu stepped forward to stand beside Sarah and give a bow, before returning to the crowd. She was a young Asian woman in her 30s, and she was dressed in a very artistic black and white cocktail dress with huge black hoop earrings that touched her shoulders under her waist-length hair.

  “I guess you should probably get closer to the front so you can go bow when she announces your art,” whispered John.

  I nodded, and took a step forward to start pushing my way through the crowd. But I was stopped by a hand on my shoulder. I turned to see who it was that was grabbing me so tightly, and I thought I might faint when I did. Hector had a hold of me, and his face was smug as he took off his sunglasses with his other hand.

  “You didn’t think I’d leave without a goodbye, did you?” he asked with a wink.

  “I’m calling the police,” whispered Margaret in my ear before sneaking away behind me.

  “The second debut artist we have tonight,” Sarah continued, “Is Nicholas Lowery. He is a traveling artist who paints beautiful landmarks from the different towns he visits. This is his painting of the Maple Creek Town Hall. We are so excited to have you here, Mr. Lowery.” The room applauded again, and I knew my turn was next.

  “Let me go, Hector,” I growled shoving his arm off of me.

  “What’s going on?” asked John, turning from his conversation with Kiuchi to look at me.

  “And our final guest is someone very close to my heart,” announced Sarah into the loud speakers.

  I stepped forwards again, pushing through the crowd to the front of the room. I could feel Hector close behind me.

  “Emily Heart drew this portrait of me as a Valentine’s gift. She is a special woman who has made my life a little brighter, and my holidays a little cheerier. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Happy Valentine’s Day, Emily.”

  This time, there was less applause and more hushed whispers as people conversed between themselves about what she had just said. I pushed by the last person in the front of the crowd, and stood beside Sarah, and took a bow. She reached down and took my hand, and I tried to snatch it away before Hector saw. I wanted to warn Sarah, but it was too late.

  “Wait, what?” I heard Hector’s booming voice, “You did leave me for someone else? And it’s a woman? You pathetic little cunt!”

  He raised a strong hand in the air, but before it could swing down on me, someone caught it from behind him. It was John. And within seconds, John’s fist smashed across the side of Hector’s jaw, and he fell to the floor with a thud.

  The door to the art show room swung open, and two police officers stepped in, “We are looking for a Hector Jacobson?”

  The room parted a path for the officers that led straight up to Hector, who was still struggling to get up from the floor. After taking a few statements from John, Margaret, and I, Hector was taken away in the police car. Then we went back in to the art show, like nothing had happened.

  Sarah threw her arms aroun
d me, “Oh, my goodness, that was terrifying,” she said.

  The scent of her vanilla perfume and her body pressed against mine sent a tingling shock through me.

  “I think it’s over,” I said, relief washing over me, “And are you okay? You know, now that we are public?”

  “Yeah, I will be. Some people in there are angry, but my boss, the principal, actually came over to talk to me. He said that his son is gay, and he thought it was brave of me to speak out after all this time. So, I guess I get to keep my job,” she shrugged.

  “I’m so glad,” I said with a sigh.

  “So,” she said, pulling away, “What do you say we get out of here and have a real Valentine’s Day?”

  “I’d like that,” I smiled.

  I took one last look back at the room. John and Kiuchi were happily conversing in the corner over cans of cola, and Margaret was talking with some artist about their painting of a kitten. Everything was finally okay. And I no longer wondered where I belonged, or where I was going to go. I was home, there in Maple Creek.

  Sarah and I left the art show, hand in hand, as we made our way back to her place for a Valentine’s evening full of pizza, video games, and most of all, love.

  The

  End

  About the Author

  Elizabeth Penn has spent her life travelling the world, and was inspired by the diversity of her friends and family to write books that could represent the diversity of love in all its forms. Elizabeth studied Creative Writing and English at SNHU, and she currently resides in Illinois with her husband and son.

  For more from her, go to:

  Pennromance.wordpress.com